discoveredinalj | Seven Deadly Sins

Well. I had hoped to have this finished by midnight my time (EST). It's now quarter to three. Which makes it 11:45 PST. I think I made it just under the wire. :-)

Very loosely based on the theme of Sloth, I bring you my Seven Deadly Sins story. I hope you like it.

Past Imperfect, Present Tense

By Ancasta

ancastar@comcast.net

* * * * * * *

"Ray?"

Balanced on his forearm, Bodie looks at the man lying beside him, still and near.

"Ray, mate?"

His partner doesn't stir.

"Oh, no. It won't do for you to fall asleep on me. Not now. A bloke could take a thing like that personally, couldn't he? So come on. Wake up, Doyle. Wake up."

Doyle murmurs something wordless, twists, then freezes, his breath catching. Releasing a soft, shuddering sigh, he moves more cautiously, and tilts his head to meet Bodie's gaze.

Bodie smiles with encouragement. "That's better."

Doyle doesn't return the smile. "'m tired, Bodie."

"I know. I know you are, old son. That's why I told you to rest. Remember?"

Doyle nods, his eyes heavy-lidded but clear.

Bodie continues. "So for once in your life, do as you're told. Just lie there for me, Ray. Okay? Try not to move. Only stay awake, alright? Just for a little while more. Won't be long now. I'm sure of it."

Only Bodie isn't really sure of anything. No one knows where they are.

Doyle swallows carefully and clears his throat. "'kay. Do me best. Talk to me for a bit then."

"What shall I say?"

"Anythin'. Doesn't matter."

"Don't be daft. 'Course it does. What shall I tell you, Ray? What do you want to hear?"

"My choice, is it?"

"Yeah. This time it is."

Doyle doesn't answer at first. He blinks, once, twice, his eyes on Bodie's face. "Tell me the truth."

"'Bout what exactly?" Though Bodie thinks he knows.

"Tell me why. Why after all this time? Why last night?"

"Do you regret it?"

"No." Doyle scowls and shakes his head. "No, 'course not."

"Then what's it matter?"

"It doesn't. It's only that…just…'m…"

"Ray. Ray! Wait. Just…open those lovely eyes for me. Come on now."

Doyle's lashes flutter as he struggles to obey.

"That's right. That's the way. Good lad. Stay awake."

"'m awake."

"I know. Can see you looking at me, can't I? Did I ever tell you how much I like that, like to feel your eyes on me?"

"Pull the other one."

"I swear it. Always like looking your way and catching you looking back."

"Arrogant prat."

Bodie shakes his head. "Not at all. Aren't you listening to me? Told you the looking goes both ways. You may've been having a butchers a time or two. But I've been doing the same."

"Yeah?"

"'Course. Had no choice you being what you are."

"What's that then?"

Bodie chuckles. "Are you fishing, Raymond, looking for compliments? Shall I tell you your arse is round and lush as a summer peach or how the notch of your upper lip has always made me want to trace the shape with my tongue?"

"Christ." Doyle laughs as if it hurts him. Bodie expects it must.

"Don't believe me? It's true. Every word. I've fancied you for ages, sunshine. Ages and ages. Been so long, I don't remember when I didn't. Far as I'm concerned, I deserve some sort of bloody medal for controlling my baser instincts as long as I did."

"Why did you? Control 'em, I mean."

"Wasn't sure, was I? Couldn't be certain you wouldn't knock me into next week if I tried it on."

"You saw me lookin'."

"Yeah. But what if that was only curiosity? What if it was more, only you didn't want to know. Lots of ways it could've all gone wrong." Bodie shrugs. "Liked what we had well enough. Didn't know if anything more was worth the aggro."

Doyle doesn't say anything, but Bodie sees a question in his partner's eyes. He decides to answer it.

"It was though, Ray. Every fumbling, beautiful second of it was worth…falling asleep with you snoring in my ear, and waking up with your hair in my mouth."

Doyle smiles at that, faintly. His eyes shine. "I don't snore."

Bodie smiles back. "You keep telling yourself that."

They say nothing for a bit. Gradually their smiles fade.

"Bodie?"

"What?"

"'m glad we did it."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Wanted it. Didn't know how to ask for it."

Bodie smirks. "All you had to do was say please."

Doyle chuffs. His lashes droop.

"Ray?"

Doyle starts. He forces his eyes wide. "Yeah…yeah. 'm here."

Bodie knows it's foolish. But, with as many times as they've cheated death, he sometimes thinks of Doyle and him as immortal. It's easier that way. Helps him control the fear. Lets him do his job. It's a lie. But a useful one. They can be wounded. They can suffer. But they don't die. They never die.

Don't die, Ray. Please don't die.

Bodie doesn't say those words. He doesn't beg. He doesn't think it would do any good. And he doesn't want the burden to be on Doyle.

So he puts it on himself instead.

"You asked for the truth, Ray. You still want to hear it?"

Doyle frowns and looks confused, as if he doesn't remember asking for any such thing. The light in his eyes is dimmer than before. More than anything, Bodie fears the moment it gets snuffed out completely.

"Sure, sunshine." Doyle whispers. "Tell me."

Bodie nods and stretches against the cuff holding him to the wall. His fingers graze the back of Doyle's hand. Doyle turns his wrist and Bodie grabs hold. Doyle is similarly restrained. This is the only touch they have.

It will have to be enough.

Doyle's palm is chilled and damp against Bodie's own. At first, his partner doesn't return Bodie's grip. Then, Doyle's fingers close. Satisfied, Bodie lies down beside him. They rest side by side on a cold cellar floor, miles from anywhere, holding hands. Like the lovers they now are. Bodie can't help but think the setting is appropriate for them somehow, fitting for what he wants to say.

He wets his lips before he speaks. "I want to tell you something, Ray. Something I've never said to anyone. Not a bird, no one. I may not need to say anything. You may have already guessed it. But I reckon you deserve to hear the words. At least once."

Bodie feels his throat thicken and his eyes prickle, and he wonders if he'll be able to finish, to get out all he wants to say.

He can hear Doyle breathing, shallow and hushed beside him, not interrupting, just waiting. And it occurs to Bodie that perhaps he should hurry. That their time together is not infinite.

"You make me happy, Ray." Bodie says in a rush, staring at the rough wooden beams overhead and not at the man beside him. "More than anything ever has or ever will. I want you to know that. You and me…the last few years, it's been the best. I wouldn't change a thing."

Doyle's voice is soft. "'cept maybe this afternoon, mate. Seems that could do with a spot of change."

Bodie smiles at that, then chuckles, something hard and tight breaking free inside him. He realizes Doyle is laughing too, a bumpy, pained sound that is a shadow of the other man's usual raucous snickers. This makes Bodie laugh harder, tears beginning to leak from the corners of his eyes. His chest heaves and his gut aches, and a part of him wonders if he might not be edging towards hysteria. He is having trouble catching his breath when he hears something.

"What's…what's that?" He turns to look at Doyle, who looks back at him, his eyes wet like Bodie's. "Did you hear it?"

Together, they listen. Something is happening outside. Bodie hears voices, though he can't make out individual words.

He lets go of Doyle's hand and sits up. "You s'pose that's the cavalry?"

"One way to find out."

Bodie yells, giving it everything he has. "Oi! You there! We're down here, down here in the cellar!"

They hear a door opening and footsteps overhead. The voices grow louder and Bodie identifies one, gruff with concern and unmistakably Scottish.

"Bodie! Is that you, lad?"

"Doyle and me both, sir. We're chained up down here, courtesy of Benton. Ray needs medical attention sooner rather than later."

"Murphy, get the medics in here." They hear Cowley bark. Moments later, many feet pound down the stairs towards them.

Bodie looks at his partner, lying pale and bleeding beside him, but smiling. And looking bloody wonderful. Bodie smiles back.

"We made it, sunshine. You and me, made it out of this fucking hole in the ground. Hard part's over. You going to hang in there till we have you comfy and secure in hospital?"

Doyle nods, his smile lingering. "Piece of cake."

Others surround them, agents and assorted helpers, freeing both men from their fetters and whisking Doyle away on a stretcher before Bodie can even inquire as to his partner's condition. He feels confident though, watching from afar. Help got there in time. Doyle and he would have other nights, other days.

"Well, 3.7, what do you have to say for yourself?" Cowley is waiting for him at the top of the cellar stairs, impatient and annoyed now that he knows his agents will survive.

Unfazed, Bodies beams at the crusty old Scot. Cowley glowers, distrustful of such joy.

"I'm immortal, sir. Doyle and me both."

"I see. Is that what you're taking away from this little escapade, your supposed invulnerability?"

But Bodie is no longer invulnerable, if in fact he ever was. He knows that now, knows his life has changed. Everything is different, the possibilities endless.

A future continuous.

Bodie wouldn't have it any other way.

The End

* * * * * * *

Title: Past Imperfect, Present Tense
Author: Ancasta
Slash or Gen: Slash
Archive at ProsLib/Circuit/Hatstand: Yes, I'd love it.
Notes: A loose interpretation of the sin of sloth. Because of various factors, this story is being posted without beta. Any errors are clearly my own. Thanks for reading!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

shazp4.livejournal.com

Loved it - very well done as usual. Was worried for a bit you were going to kill them, but they came out ok in the end - whew!
Keep up the good work - your already high standards are getting even higher!!

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Seven Deadly Sins - Sloth

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