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discoveredinaljTitle: The Two Efficient and Organized Agents of CI5 during the Holidays
Author: lbc
Note: This is Part II of the story originally posted on December 16, 2019 (link to this part of the story can be found here: https://discoveredinalj.livejournal.com/385805.html
Bodie kept thinking about his words to Doyle. December 22 and 23 had been slow days at CI5. He had been able to finish pressie shopping and wrapping and was eagerly awaiting Jenny’s plane which was due in within the next few hours. It was at that moment that other words became the focus of Bodie’s whole life:
WORST SNOW STORM OF THE DECADE HEADING TOWARDS THE REALM
Not only were these words plastered on the front page of the newspaper that someone had left discarded in the restroom, but it was now being discussed in exacting detail on the telly and wireless.
Bodie’s contempt for the forecasting capabilities of various weather services was legendary. He believed none and was sceptical of all others, but this was an important three days, and he wanted to spend as much time as possible with Jenny so he decided to drop by Doyle’s flat on his way to the airport and deliver his package – that would be one more step on his plan for the holiday that he could cross off.
Since most of the plans that he had posted on the CI5 board involved Jenny, he would be well on his way to accomplishing them once he had picked her up. He just hoped that Doyle was being as efficient and organized as he was so that the two of them could make Anson pay for the three rounds of the best at the pub of their choice.
Once he was at Jenny’s flat, it wouldn’t matter if the snow became an avalanche, and he knew that Doyle’s date just had to be picked up at the hospital so how could anything go wrong?
Arriving at Doyle’s door, Bodie could smell delicious odors so his expectations for Doyle’s part in their holiday plans were coming along nicely. After pounding again on the door, it was finally flung open and a less than happy Ray Doyle stood before him. He was wearing his usual skin tight jeans, that emerald shirt that Bodie liked so much, and a small apron which only hinted at the treasures beneath.
Bodie stood there staring for a moment, then his face broke out in a smirk as he said, “You know, Doyle, you’re going to make someone a great wife. That’s a really cute apron you got on there.”
If Bodie had noticed earlier the blazing light in the beautiful green eyes that were throwing venomous looks at him, he would never had uttered those words, but now it was too late and he was going to be exposed to the full force of the Doyle temper. “I’VE BEEN BUSY AND ALL FOR NOTHIN’, you dumb crud. Charlotte gave me this last Christmas, and I thought she’d appreciate it if I wore it, and then you come by and rub it in.”
Bodie took a step back as if he felt like he had been hit with a battering ram. What was going on? What had gone wrong with their perfect plans?
“What are you talking about Doyle? I’m here to give you your pressie, just like we planned, and I HOPE, you have mine so I can get out of here ‘cause I noticed a few flakes coming down and I still got to get to the airport.”
Suddenly, Doyle’s face took on a new look, one almost as if he were appreciating a joke that only he knew. “Come in you, nitwit; have I got news for you and your great big plans for the holidays.”
Now Bodie was really nervous, but being the suave, debonair, and assured man that he was, he knew that he could handle anything. “Doyle, me boy, what is it so Uncle Bodie can fix it?”
Once again the Doyle temper took off, “Oh, can you fix a foot of snow in the next few hours? Can you fix my stove almost burning some of the food that I have so carefully prepared? Can you fix that Charlotte’s dumped me for some turkey she met at the hospital and is off on some rendez-vous to her parents?”
While this rant was going on Doyle removed with a great deal of vehemence the apron from his slender waist and stood their looking as if he were ready to take on all comers, including the soon-to-be-dead man named WAP Bodie.
Bodie’s confusion reached paramount heights as he tried to understand what Doyle was telling him, but soon the words – dumped me – came to the forefront. Bodie was a brave man, but it was with hesitancy that he whispered, “You mean Charlotte’s not coming over or doing anything on our plan board?”
“Yes, that’s exactly what I mean my organizing genius. All the plans you put on there for me are now up the whazoo because I won’t be cuddling with Charlotte or any other of the lascivious things that I was planning. Now just what do you think of that?”
“Oh, oh, well, don’t worry, I’ll think of something. I’m sure Murph will be very understanding when he gets here in two days time.”
Doyle’s curls were practically standing on end as he said with very little hope in his voice, “You think we can bribe him?”
“My high principled friend would never succumb to a bribe, but I do know some dirt about him so maybe we can extort some positive attitudes out of him.”
Doyle looked highly sceptical at this remark, and was prepared to question it when suddenly Bodie’s face turned sheet white as one of the statements that Doyle had made recently came to mind. “WHAT DO YOU MEAN a foot of snow in the next few hours. There were just a few flakes when I drove over here.”
“Haven’t you been listening to the news?”
“Been too busy, completing all my plans for this holiday. I even went to the pub as well as stopping by and picking up some liquid refreshment to entertain Jenny with.”
Doyle put his hands on his slim hips and said through gritted teeth, “You better check with the airport, if those snow reports are right.”
“Doyle, me lad, I will now leave you and go out and get in my car, head to the airport where Jenny will be anxiously awaiting for my presence and then spend the next three days cuddled up and enjoying Jenny’s delicious cooking. My sincere condolences for the trouble with your oven, but be sure you accomplish as many of your plans as possible and I’ll take care of the rest.”
Practically throwing Doyle’s present at him, Bodie turned and headed out the door, not even seeming to note Doyle’s loud shout, “Don’t you want your pressie?”
Less than three minutes later, the snow covered body of WAP Bodie dragged itself up to Doyle’s door and banged even louder than before. Doyle quietly opened the door but the smirk on his face demonstrated his knowledge of Bodie’s message before Bodie even burst forth with,
“My car’s buried in snow! How could it have come down so fast?”
“Maybe if you had had the brains to watch the forecast this wouldn’t have happened.”
“Well, where’s your car, I can take it and get Jenny?”
Doyle looked slightly confused as he said, “Well, I parked it by the kerb last night so I assume it’s . . . - NOOOOOOO!”
Doyle quickly ran down the steps. Soon followed by Bodie, who found the Doyle glacier sitting a few places from the Bodie avalanche. The two cars were completely buried under very heavy and dense snow. There would be no quick dig out for either car.
Bodie wiped a smirk off his face and said to Doyle, “I’m going to use your phone to call the airport and leave a message for Jenny that I might be a few minutes late. Get your boots and coat on, Doyle; we’re going to pretend to be miners and do some digging.”
Quickly turning and running up the stairs to use the phone, Bodie rang through to the airport, but by the time Doyle re-climbed the stairs to his flat, the optimism that Bodie had shown so recently was no longer apparent. As Doyle entered the room, Bodie turned and said in a glazed over tone, “Jenny’s flight has been rerouted to somewhere in Germany and won’t be released for return until after the 26th.”
Doyle reached in his pocket and brought out a handkerchief, wiping his eyes ceremoniously, “You poor thing. Well, at least, we don’t have to dig out either car. You can hoof it home on the tube and wait for the spring thaw.”
Seeing disaster staring him in the face, Bodie immediately pulled himself together. “Like hell, am I going to hoof it to the tube station. I’m staying put here; I’ll make do with your sofa, and some of that stuff that you’ve been burning all afternoon. I’m not picky.”
“That’s what I’ve said about you and your choice in birds for years, but what makes you think I’m going to invite you to stay?”
“You got food, and I got your pressie (promptly grabbing it back from where it had landed), so let’s make the best of this.”
“But, what are you going to tell Murph on Boxing Day?”
“Don’t you worry about that - - if all else fails, I’ll sign him up for another hitch with the SAS so he won’t be available to judge our plans.”
“I won’t say you’re a genius, Bodie, but I do like that idea. Why don’t you sign yourself up as well? You’ll need to get out of town fast, if we have to pay off this ignorant bet of yours.”
“Doyle, I’m hurt; I was only defending you.”
“Pull the other one, Bodie. Now, since it looks like I’m going to be stuck with you until tomorrow, let’s eat something – after all I’ve got it fixed, and I know you’ll eat anything burnt or not.”
“All right, but I think there was an insult of my gourmet eating tastes somewhere in there.”
An hour later the two men pulled back from Doyle’s small kitchen table. Doyle had, of course, eaten in moderation; Bodie had not. His waist line had visibly increased just while they were eating. Doyle looked at his partner and smiled, “Well, at least with you around, I don’t have to worry about there being food left over. I’m going to have enough stuff after tomorrow’s extravaganza.”
“Oh, what are we having?”
“Whatta ya mean, WE?”
“Well, it’s going to take several hours to dig me car out, and I figured I would need some sustenance after that. Besides I might be persuaded to work on your car while I’m out there putting my shovel to the snow. By the way, where is your shovel?”
“Where’s mine? Don’t you have one? I usually use my neighbor’s upstairs since we have a deal where I clean off her car at the same time, but she’s away this holiday.”
“O great, maybe Murph will have one when he comes on Boxing Day, but I do have to say that’s very poor planning and organizing, Doyle, me lad.”
“You’ll have several hours to yourself while I prepare food tomorrow so you can hoof it to a store and get us a shovel. That way you’ll earn your food instead of mooching it like you were planning to do with Jenny..”
In the faintly reminiscent sound of a baby whining, Bodie immediately shot back, “But the stores will be closed, and I’ll get cold.”
“Call around now and see who’s open and where we can get a shovel.”
“I know; I’ll call Murph and tell him to be sure and bring a shovel with him when he comes and we’ll cut him in on the food and the drinks on the 26th.”
“I thought you said that he was incorruptible?”
“But, he is open to blackmail and extortion.”
“That’s the second time that you’ve hinted about you knowing something about Murph; what is it?”
“If I tell you, then you might use it against my dear friend and it would be less effective as one of my tools of friendship.”
“Some friend, we all know another so-called friend that you shafted by getting him involved in a bet. It’s a wonder you have any friends at all.”
Doyle,, do you sit up at night, thinking up these wounding insults to hurl at me?”
“Nah, don’t have to; with you the insults come easily.”
“If I didn’t depend on you for my bed and board tonight and part time tomorrow, I’d be very offended at that.”
“You just remember that, and now how about some of that libation that you purchased to lure Jenny into your clutches?”
“But, what if we drink it all up, what will I give Jenny?”
“You got two options, Bodie. One is to hoard the booze for what may be your swan song with Jenny or make me happy since I’m the one who fed you, will give you a bed for the evening, and then food for tomorrow. So what’s it going to be?”
The phrase: since I’m the one who fed you, and the one who will bed you, quickly floated through Bodie’s mind and then went off into nether space. What a delightful thought. Bodie pulled himself together, however, and said, “All right, we’ll open up one bottle just to toast the coming events, but I have to save me drinking for after I shovel out the great glacier of the western world tomorrow. You are going to come out and help me, aren’t you?”
“Well, maybe after I get the turkey on and some other stuff done. I’ll tell you what; I’ll give you a nice bowl of museli and then send you off to dig us out.”
“You’ll give me a complete fry up or there will only be one car dug out tomorrow.”
“You are cruel, Bodie. I don’t know why I put up with you.”
“Whatta ya mean, you put up with me? I’ve shown you the way to survive on the streets, and given you the benefit of all my hard-earned knowledge for almost eight years, YOU SHOULD BE COUNTIN’ YOURSELF LUCKY TO KNOW ME.”
“I can’t take anymore of this so hand over the booze or you don’t get your puddin’ this evening.”
“You didn’t say anything about puddin’; it’s a good thing I saved a teeny little spot right here (indicating a spot near his belly button) for such an eventuality.
Doyle crossed his eyes as he stared at the vast abyss that was the Bodie eating machine, then said, “I’ll go get glasses and the puddin’; you get the drinks ready.”
Bodie dragged out one of the bottles that he had purchased and then waited to see what Doyle was serving his gourmet taste. Within a minute or two Doyle brought in two glasses and a small Swiss roll about the size of one of those American hot dog buns.
“Where’d you get that? I’ll have to get my magnifying glass to even see it.”
“Well, if you don’t want it, I’ll just take it back; the kids next door will be happy to have it. I looked long and hard to find even this one, so you better be glad to have it, you ungrateful sod.”
By this time Bodie was practically drooling; he made a quick agent-like move which put him up close and personal with the Swiss roll and promptly devastated it with three swift bites.
The evening quickly went down hill from there as the level of liquor in the bottle diminished proportionally. Several Christmas songs were “sung” and very “funny” stories were told so that when Doyle finally suggested they go to bed, Bodie’s stupor was just one stage above a coma.
Doyle disappeared and returned with some blankets and bed-fixings for the settee and let Bodie have at it. The ex-merc would have said that he would have vegetated right there with very little help for the next decade except that he heard some moans and strange sounds coming from Doyle’s bedroom a few hours later. The fact that he recognized those moans and muffled words sent shivers up his back, sobered him immediately, and sent him racing into Doyle’s bedroom.
Doyle was tossing and turning on the badly disheveled sheets, practically pawing at his chest. Bodie closed his eyes for a moment, this was the nightmare that Doyle had suffered from when he had been shot in the chest by the Chinese girl. Why was he dreaming about the shooting almost two years later?
Bodie quickly went to the bed and climbed in, taking the slender figure into his arms, much as he had done for so many nights during Doyle’s recovery two years ago. Bodie knew how vulnerable Doyle was at this moment so he gently spoke his name so he would wake to a voice he knew.
“Doyle, Doyle, it’s okay; it’s okay. Wake up.”
Suddenly green eyes groggily looked at him as Doyle returned to wakefulness. “Bodie? Why are you dressed; is there a fire alarm or something?”
Bodie smiled affectionately at the man whose scrawny body had enticed him almost from the moment they met, “No, you dumb crud. Don’t you remember; we’re snowed in, and you exiled me to the sofa and I didn’t want to embarrass Santa in case he made an appearance at this place to hand out some coal.”
Sleepily Doyle replied, “Oh yeah, but I felt something hit my chest and pain and then you were there; thanks, I guess I was having that nightmare again.”
“I’ll guess you were. Now, about you cuddle up all warm under your duvet (I guess we can count that as fitting one of our plans) and get some sleep?”
“Will you rub my scar like you used to, it kind of hurts?”
Doyle had stayed with Bodie in his two bedroom flat during Doyle’s recovery from the shooting and many nights, Doyle’s pain from the healing scar, had kept him awake. Only Bodie’s gentle massage of the long, ugly scar had seemed to help diminish the pain.
During all those months Doyle refused to go out with any bird because he said he didn’t feel well enough, but Bodie knew that Doyle was reluctant to expose his chest which had been shaved and bore that long scar that was taking its time healing. Only after Doyle’s usual chest hair came back in around the scar, did he feel less embarrassed about taking off his shirt. For a man who usually wore his shirts with several buttons undone, this modesty demonstrated how truly disturbed Doyle was by the injury.
Bodie pulled Doyle’s sweaty body closer to him and began to slowly massage the still readily apparent scar. Gradually Doyle seemed to relax. Burying himself closer into Bodie’s body, Doyle whispered, How come you have clothes on and I don’t?”
“I told you; I’m very modest where Santa is concerned. He might not give me my pressies if I showed him my birthday suit.”
“Well, I like you in your birthday suit; let’s pretend it’s May and you’re going to celebrate. Bodie figured he could stall until Doyle was asleep, but suddenly, Doyle grabbed Bodie’s hand and moved it down to cover his groin area. “Please, Bodie, please, help me.”
“All right, Angelfish, let me take care of it.”
Bodie began to gently rub Doyle’s manhood and then managed to swallow most of the delicious semen that burst forth from Doyle’s organ. Both men lay back exhausted and drained for several minutes until Bodie got up and got some towels to clean them up.
Feeling the warmth from the towel, Doyle smiled and said, “Sorry about that; couldn’t control myself. You didn’t have to do that, Bodie.” Green eyes stared at his bed partner for a few minutes then Doyle noticed that Bodie was just finishing cleaning himself up as well. “Why you cleanin’ up?”
“It seems I should have listened to you and taken off my clothes, ‘cause I had a little accident.”
“Yeah?” Doyle seemed pleased by the effects of potency of his orgasm on Bodie. “You mean I did that to you?”
“Sure enough, sugar pie, see what you can do when you’re drunk, AND having a nightmare. Just think what you’d be like if you were sober.”
Doyle opened one eye to look at Bodie, observing his now undressed state. “We got a lot to do tomorrow. Get back in bed and maybe we can see what we can do as an encore tomorrow.”
Bodie stood there stupefied and stunned. Did Doyle really mean that? Would he even remember what he said? Whatever, Bodie was absolutely sure he was going to have a very pleasant dream wrapped up next to the human heating pad and pressure cooker, Ray Doyle.
Unfortunately, the next morning, Doyle was already out of bed early, dealing with the turkey and fixins’ that awaited preparation. Bodie figured it was ridiculous to shower before he went out to deal with the snow so he went to the kitchen, hesitantly peeking his head around the door. “Happy Christmas, what’s your handyman/janitor’s name?”
“Nordlinger, why?”
“Thought he might be able to loan me a shovel.”
“You can try, but good luck; he’s a bit crotchety sometimes.”
“See you in a little while.”
It took Doyle over an hour to get the turkey in the oven and the other needed preparations. If he had been truthful, Doyle would have had to admit the distraction of his thoughts while he worked. Bodie had not even mentioned their activities last night so it looked like the ex-merc was once again avoiding any confrontation about their feelings for each other. Doyle sighed as he realized that he had probably made a fool of himself to Bodie. Bodie had probably only used his mouth as sort of an apology for getting him into the bet and it really meant nothing at all. Checking to make sure everything was cooking as he wanted it, Doyle decided to hunt down Nordlinger to see if he had another shovel.
Ten minutes later, Doyle exited the building with shovel in hand. He had expected to see a great deal of snow covering the cars out front, but Bodie had already uncovered his own car and now seemed to be working on Doyle’s. In addition, he had several helpers in the form of the boys who lived next door. They were enthusiastic and moving along at a terrific pace. Bodie, seeing Doyle, walked over smiling like a Chessie cat. “Well, you can see I used my superior planning brain and got the local urchins in on the act. For a bit of money and a promise, they’ve done most of the work. I also had them do a few other cars as well.”
“You are truly a planning genius, but where’d you get the shovel?”
“I talked to Otto and he opened up your lady friend’s flat and got the shovel for me, good thinking wasn’t it?”
“What’d you have to promise him?”
“Whatta ya mean?”
“Otto doesn’t do anything for nothing”
“Well, I sort of mentioned the turkey and fixins you were planning for today, and I sort of promised him a care basket of some of the goodies.”
Doyle stared at his friend who liked to boast of his hard exterior but deep down was pretty soft. Doyle was about to remark on the food donation, when a snowball hit both Doyle and Bodie dead on target with full body hits.
Turning around they spotted some of the “helpers” preparing to fire again. “Hey, you’ll be sorry you did that.” Thus ensued a major snowball fight that left everyone drenched and cold from a fight that certainly rivaled Waterloo in dimensions.
The two older men finally got inside from the snowball melee but they were absolutely soaked so Doyle told Bodie that he should take off his clothes and take a shower. Mother Hen Bodie immediately reacted with, “Nah, I’m fine, you go and get warm and take your shower; I can wait.”
“Bodie, I am not an invalid; it’s been two years.” Doyle stared at Bodie’s abashed face and then relented, “I’ll tell you what; I’m going to go check on the food since you seem to have promised several care baskets and then I’ll be in to join you. How’s that?”
Bodie only nodded and went off to the loo. Doyle was not to know that the reason Bodie hadn’t spoken was because he had swallowed his Adam’s apple in anticipation of a naked Doyle joining him in the shower.
Five minutes later, both men were in the very hot shower, trying to thaw the chill from their bodies. Fortunately, seeing Doyle naked helped Bodie not only thaw but actually percolate heat which created
an atmosphere of steam in the confined area.
Doyle had his head throw nback as he savoured the delicious warmth of the water drizzling down his body. He didn’t dare look at Bodie’s naked body or there would be a repeat of his reaction in bed earlier. For eight years, Doyle had known Bodie but had never expected to see the two men in the shower together. They had, of course, showered at CI5 after exercising, but even when Doyle was so badly hurt and needed help showering, Bodie had left some clothes on. Now they were both here – naked.
Bodie insisted on soaping Doyle all over so Doyle returned the favour. It was a moment that was perfection when Doyle suddenly remembered, he had food in the oven and hungry hordes (led by Bodie) who would not take kindly to the oven recreating Pompeii all over again. Grabbing a towel, Doyle quickly rinsed off and then wrapped his robe around him and headed for the kitchen where a suspicious smell was emanating.
Five minutes later, Bodie appeared in the kitchen, dressed in an extra set of clothes he kept at Doyle’s for emergencies. “How bad is it?”
“It’s okay; I got out here just in time. Why don’t you set up the baskets so we can get them ready for Nordlinger and the kids. How many kids did you promise some food, did you say?”
“It was five but three of them are eating together so it will be four baskets all together. We got that much don’t we?”
“Well, we do if you don’t take more than six helpings this afternoon.”
“I’ll try to control myself.”
The menu of turkey, potatoes, brussel sprouts, yorkshire pudding, and rolls proved to be highly popular with one and all, including the ex-merc, who had eaten some totally unmentionable items during past Christmases. All afternoon, Bodie had been uncommonly quiet and shy. Doyle read this shyness as admission that Bodie was sorry that he had ever been intimate with Doyle and that Bodie was trying to tell Doyle that they should stay away from each other.
Ray Doyle had always prided himself on his familiarity with Bodie’s desires and thoughts, but this time he was totally wrong. He had totally misread his partner. William Bodie very badly wanted to be with his partner, but Bodie’s past was constantly oozing into his present. His past wasn’t a pleasant one, and his commitment to anyone or anything had been minimal at best - - very limited until HE HAD MET RAY DOYLE. Now Bodie was afraid that he had strained this precious relationship with Doyle in a moment of raw need. Doyle had said very little about what Bodie had done, but neither had he been in ecstasy either.
When Doyle had been so badly injured, it had seemed natural for Bodie to take Doyle into his flat and look after him, but it had proven to be some of the hardest months of Bodie’s life. He had almost lost Doyle physically, and now he had come very close to losing Doyle emotionally because he couldn’t control himself.
Each time he had rubbed Doyle’s angry, red scar two years ago, it had been pure agony. He had so badly wanted to tell Doyle what his feelings were, but as Doyle recovered, it became readily apparent that the ex-copper did not want that type of relationship with his partner and so they had returned to the status quo and NOW they were snowed in or almost that way since, after many hours of hard work, Bodie was very close to having his car free from the mess that had trapped him here at Doyle’s. He had eaten a wonderful meal; he was now going to get out of Doyle’s flat before he made a fatal mistake which would send all his hopes crashing down.
“Well, that was a delicious meal, Doyle. Let’s get things cleared up and then I can go liberate my car and head on home.”
“Aren’t you going to stay to hear the Queen?”
“I’m sure she can get along without me. I haven’t been home in two days and I only had that one change of clothing so I really need to head on out.”
“Oh, I understand, but I thought you might want to sample your Christmas puddin’ before you leave. Besides that, don’t you have to be here to see Murph when he shows up to check that all of our plans have been accomplished?”
“I’ve tried to call him several times to let him know that there have been a “few problems”, but he hasn’t answered, I guess he’s with . . .”
Green eyes stared at Bodie as Doyle waited for Bodie to complete the sentence, but when he didn’t, Doyle knew something was going on. “Tell me about Murph’s newest fling. How long has he known her? He’s sure been closed-mouth about her. How come you know so much about them?”
Bodie polished his fingernails on his shirt and then said he a superior sounding voice, “Just my superior planning powers and my splendid organizational ability.”
Doyle grinned and added, “And your propensity to eavesdrop whenever you get the chance.”
“Naughty, naughty, Doyle. No wonder, Santa, only gave you a piece of coal.”
Suddenly both men got an amazed look on their faces and then both burst forth with, “WE FORGOT OUR PRESSIES!”
Quickly both men ran to get their presents and handed them to each other. Doyle stood, waiting for Bodie to open his package. His method of “opening” his package would have done justice to the Mongol hordes ravaging Asia, but the look on Bodie’s face was all that Doyle hoped for. “It’s a certificate for my Norton; now I can get it fixed up the way I’ve wanted. Doyle, you shouldn’t have - - that’s a fair bit of money you spent. Thank you so much, but I can’t believe the cheapskate of the Western World broke down and spent so much. You must have an ulterior motive.”
“I was hoping you could get that bike fixed so I wouldn’t have to be ashamed to go out with you and have total strangers gawking at us.”
“I’ll let you know a little secret, Doyle. THEY WEREN’T GAWKING at my bike, it was at your face.”
Doyle quickly stuck out his tongue, then began to open his pressie. He stared at the tickets inside with his mouth dropped open. “I don’t believe it; who did you have to blackmail to get these? They’ve been sold out for months.”
“Well, when do you think I got them? I stood outside in the rain, waiting for them to go on sale. I had to make up a pretty convincing story to fool Cowley into letting me come in late that day.”
“Was that the day you said that you almost got run over by a taxi, got splashed, had to run home, and then when you got home, your landlady was having the screaming meemies and you had to take her to the A&E?”
“Well, of course, it was. You don’t think I have those kinds of days all the time, do you? I got into line just in time to get the tickets and then rushed back to CI5, but since I was already wet that really added verisimilitude to my story.”
“I wish you wouldn’t throw around those big words. If Anson had heard that, he would have reported you to Cowley for naughty language. Well, I guess your ingenuity and generosity makes you worthy of your Christmas puddin’. Sit down and I’ll get it.”
There were a few anxious moments but soon Doyle re-entered the lounge, carrying a plate. On the festively decorated plate was the largest Swiss Roll that Bodie had ever seen. It must have been over two foot in length and could barely fit on the serving platter. Bodie’s eyes bulged out, his tongue hung out of his mouth, drool dripped all over and Bodie’s face was the picture of hunger and preparation to devour the innocent victim that was covered in chocolate.
“Wow, that’s the biggest roll I’ve ever seen. Where’d you get it?”
“Well, when I got you that small one for the 24th, I asked Mario if he could make a larger one for today, and this is what he came up with.”
“Have you got any money left, Doyle? We might have to take out a loan to pay for this bet if Murphy doesn’t come through.”
“I’ve got a bit set aside, but I am not footing this bill all by myself. You better prepare your lily-white hands to wash dishes if we can’t cover the whole thing. Besides, I thought you said that you had leverage against Murph and could fix whatever happened?”
“Well, that might be up the spout, if I can’t get a hold of his majesty before tomorrow. If he arrives, planning to do his duty and refuses to sink his moral principles then I guess we’re going to have to bite the bullet and pay up.”
“Whatta ya mean, WE?”
“You wouldn’t abandon me in my hour of need would you? Maybe I better get home and see if I can find some stuff to pawn first thing on the 27th before the confrontation with that arsehole Anson.”
“You are not leaving here. You are staying and eating your puddin’, then we’re listening to the Queen, and then we’re going to sample some more of your bottles so that we are feeling no pain, and then we’ll get up tomorrow and bravely face the judgement of Murphy. Do you hear me?”
“Yes, Mum, but you better not throw me to the wolves or I’ll pawn you instead. Of course, I doubt if I’ll get much money for that scrawny body.”
“You call me scrawny one more time, and I will personally put out a personal advertisement, delineating some of your less than pleasing characteristics.”
“Whatta ya mean by that? Everybody knows that I’m Tall, Dark, . . . “
“Handsome and modest. Yeah, I noticed that on the poster you mounted. Murphy was the only one who understood what it meant so that tells me that those adjectives are pretty well
unknown as descriptions of you - - at least, according to your fellow agents and some of your former birds.”
“I can’t help it if they’re jealous.”
“Oh brother, what an ego. Now you go wash your hands, pour us out some more liquor and I’ll cut you a big piece of the ambrosia roll and we’ll listen to Her Majesty.”
By the end of the day, the roll had almost disappeared, the bottles were severely diminished, the two gentlemen were feeling very little pain, and speaking with less clarity than usual. Bodie had started to make up his bed on the sofa when Doyle intervened, insisting that Bodie share his bed in a spirit of good Christmas cheer.
Although Bodie was less than sober, his organizing and planning faculties were still sufficient that he did not turn down this gift of a lifetime. “Of course, I will, Doyle, but did you change your sheets after last night’s little mishap?”
Suddenly, the beautiful green eyes dimmed, and Doyle looked incredibly sad and dismayed. Whispering, Doyle replied, “Of course, I did, but I wouldn’t want you to be contaminated by that little “mishap” so I’ll sleep on the sofa and you can have the bed ALL TO YOURSELF.” With those words, Doyle turned away with the intention of finding some bed clothes for himself. Bodie immediately grabbed Doyle’s slender wrist and pulled the body he adored to him.
Leaning over so he could whisper in Doyle’s ear, Bodie said, “Remember that time when we were at the garage, and I goosed you in front of Jack, the garage man?”
“How could I forget that? It was all I could do not to react. I should have turned around and slugged you, but Jack would have told Cowley and then you would have been out on your ear.”
“Well, I would have been out on my something, but that was not my point.”
“Well, what was then?”
“I have wanted to caress and cuddle that bum ever since then. You are a satyr in jeans, and I want you to be my permanent Christmas pressie. No more Jennys or Charlottes or any one else – just you and me, whatta ya say to that?”
“Whatta ya think Cowley will say?”
“We will tell the Cow we want to room together to cut down on expenses and his Scots-soul will fall right in line with our plans.
“You’re crazy, Bodie. We can’t afford to be out of jobs when we face that huge pub bill in two days time.”
“Never fear, Doyle. The Bodie thinking and planning machine will get us out of this so let’s go to bed, plan our activities for tomorrow, and then show up bright and bushy-tailed on the 27th ready to meet all comers.”
Bodie made love to Doyle as gently as possible since he didn’t want to scare his partner. This night had been in the planning for almost eight years, and Bodie wanted it to be totally successful so that Doyle would keep coming back for more.
Early the next morning, Bodie lay on his side, his head propped up, feeling very pleased with himself. He was a bit sticky, but he was feeling totally satiated. Now they just had to get through tomorrow without having to declare bankruptcy and everything would be all right.
Bodie could have sworn he had just blinked his eyes for a second while staring at the sleeping Doyle when he suddenly heard noise coming from the kitchen. Noticing that Doyle was no longer in bed and it was well beyond dawn, Bodie promptly put two and two together and decided Doyle was hard at work in preparation for Murphy’s ominous visit.
Nevertheless, the two men were determined to continue to extend their new found relationship as well as complete the destruction of the bottles of liquor as well as making sure that there were no leftovers. Bodie had made that his own personal task, and he was succeeding at his goal with admirable expertise.
The only sign of Murphy during the whole day was a call from dispatch that they were expected into CI5 at noon the next day when the shift change would take place and Anson and his minions would be released to their activities which meant Anson would be waiting to find out about the bet.
The surprising information was that Cowley was not yet back from the north since the snow there seemed to be even heavier than in the south. Therefore, Murphy would be taking over command at precisely noon and he expected all the agents notified to be on call.
Bodie could hear Doyle say to the dispatcher that he would let Bodie know about the schedule since the
dispatcher had been unable to reach Bodie. The two men grinned at each other, contemplating the remaining few hours of their freedom before facing the music when their temporary commander took a look at their plans and decided their fate. They began to count out their total funds; their financial future did not look good, but Bodie grabbed Doyle, carried him into the bedroom, and made the best of their situation until the next morning.
When Bodie and Doyle arrived at the restroom, they found most of the oncoming and outgoing shifts huddled around the restroom in anticipation of the all-seeing wisdom of Colin Murphy, who would once again show his omniscience and decide who would provide them with liquid refreshment in just a few hours.
Anson sat in one of the few “comfortable” chairs, stretched out in anticipation of a night of revelry and hopefully a little debauchery if he could find some bird to take him up on it. After all, he was only now starting his holiday. Seeing his two “victims”, Anson burst forth with, “Aha, there are the lambs to the slaughter now. Can hardly wait to hear Murphy’s golden words of wisdom can you? Just remember, we’ll meet at the Silver Duck (a very expensive pub by reputation) to settle your losing bet at 6.00 ‘cause some of us working sods want to get home and relax.”
Bodie crossed his eyes and stuck out his tongue at the ignoramus, but hypertensive Doyle decided to visit the loo before the upcoming “festivities”. Time passed and finally there was noise coming down the corridor from Cowley’s office. The noise grew in intensity and sounds like cheering rose in crescendo until the figure of Colin Murphy appeared in the doorway. Immediately all of the agents stood (or tried to) and gave their temporary leader a salute and began making mock bows to observe his royal presence.
Murphy took all these accolades as his due and acknowledged most of them. Finally, approaching the board where the bedraggled list was posted, Murphy turned and said, “Thank you, thank you. Even now I have been working on your behalf, setting up schedules, and making arrangements for the coming days until he-who-we-must-be-scared-of returns. Therefore, let’s get on with the judging so that the winning pub can be notified. Said ravenous horde, however, will not show up until 6.00 to partake in compliance with the rules of this here challenge. Now let’s have silence so I can mark how many plans were accomplished.
For the next minute or so, the tension rose in the room until it was so dense that it seemed there was little oxygen being exchanged for carbon dioxide because breathing seemed to have been forgot. Finally, after making his calculations, Murphy turned to make his announcement.
“Using my rapier sharp arithmetical calculator known as my brain, I have determined that Bodie and Doyle have completed a total of 92% of their plans. According to the rules then Agent Anson is obligated to pay up three rounds of the best at the pub, Duck’s Waddle at 6.00 this evening – I HAVE SPOKEN.”
Furor immediately broke out as those who bet the wrong way, started counting their money and the victors started planning their selections. Chaos was rampant with back slapping, handshaking, and general congratulatory messages exchanged around the room. Anson’s swooned body was scarcely noticed until one of the larger agents tripped over it. Anson was quickly brought around and informed that his behaviour was not up to the standards of CI5 chivalry (whatever that was) so he would now have to stand one round at said pub that evening for any agent who wished to participate.
Although Murphy was Anson’s partner, he immediately abandoned Anson to his fate as he headed out of the restroom, shaking hands with dozens of agents, waiting to touch the royal benevolence.
After returning to Cowley’s office to take on the job of Alpha 2 until Cowley’s return, Murphy slyly purloined some of Cowley’s finest and waited. Within minutes the two figures he was expecting, appeared at the open doorway.
“Come in, 4.5 and 3.7.”
Bodie grinned and asked in his best Irish accent, “Will ya be joinin’ us in our hour of triumph over the Ansons of this world?”
“Nay, I have too much to do to get the office in shape. It looks like those nitwits who had the holiday shift did virtually nothing. The Cow will hit the stall if he finds out.”
“We’ll be sure to send you some ‘refreshment’ so you can take it home with you – for you and your uh house guest.”
Murphy looked faintly stunned and deeply suspicious as he asked in an apprehensive tone of voice, “You know about my house guest?”
Bodie’s blue eyes twinkled, “Well, I know but Doyle doesn’t.”
Bodie and Murphy turned to look at the “innocent” and grinned. Silence permeated the air of the room as if none of the three men could decide if the office was truly bugged or not.
Doyle looked faintly belligerent as he demanded, “What is it that I don’t know? What’s the matter with your house guest? She got warts or something? If you love her, you should overlook her faults.”
Bodie looked at his partner and lover with a great deal of affection and said, “Well, if Murphy has to overlook Sandy’s fault then I guess I have to do the same with you.”
Although Murphy perked up at these words, he merely looked shrewdly at both Bodie and Doyle and nodded. “I thought you had met Sandy at last year’s Christmas festivities here at headquarters, sorry.”
“I have 20/20 vision Murph as well as 20/20 memory, and I remember vividly you were parading around that tall, good looking blond that you called Sanford . . . “ Doyle stopped as if a light bulb went off in his head - - SANDY. That’s what you called him – well, well, so you’re one of us.”
“From the Chessie cat grins on your two faces, I’d say that the shoe was on the other foot. It’s about time, I thought I was going to have to sit you two down and explain the birds and bees to you. Well, you head on home at the regular time, wouldn’t want you to miss sticking it to Anson, but remember I’ll expect you first thing tomorrow morning.”
Green and blue eyes sparkled as licentious thoughts came to mind. “Thanks, Murph.”
As Doyle headed out the door, however, he turned and said to Murphy, “I do have one question, oh exalted leader,” Murphy studied him carefully and then nodded. “If you and Anson are partners, how come he had to work these last three days and you didn’t?”
Murphy looked faintly saintly but mostly gloating as he grinned and said, “Well, I’ll tell you, Doyle me boyo, perhaps it is my fantastic personality that persuaded Cowley to give me three days rest or perhaps it was my knowledge about that snowed-in conference that Cowley is attending in the north.”
Both men nodded, totally intrigued by Murphy’s words.
“Well, the home that the ‘conference’ is being held in happens to belong to Miss Elizabeth Walsh and guess who’s playing hostess to her ONE AND ONLY guest?
Both men’s jaws dropped open and their eyes bugged out as Doyle recovered first and said, “Naughty, naughty, Mr. Cowley.”
Bodie grinned and said, “I’ll bet he got a lump of coal for that one. I don’t know if I can keep a straight face when I see him next.”
“Yoo will if you want to ask him about our changing our flat arrangements,” Doyle quickly reminded him.
Quickly Bodie adjusted his thinking as evidenced by his next statement, “I hope that conference gets snowed in through the New Year.”
As the two men got into their car to head home to various planned and unplanned activities before showing up at the bacchanalia scheduled for that evening at Anson’s expense, Bodie grinned and said to Doyle, “Now can I plan a holiday or what?” Bodie began to hum a tune (rather badly) that Doyle could not recognize.
“What is that song that your are murdering with your caterwauling?”
“It’s a little ditty, written by Sammy Cahn and Jules Styne in 1945; it’s called LET IT SNOW, LET IT SNOW, LET IT SNOW.
“I know you have a monster ego, but you can’t tell me that you got so much pull that you can plan for even that?”
“Who knows, who knows, by tomorrow morning you might be well-pleased with the plans I’ve made.”
“Well, I’ll let you know after our little soiree ce soir - - that is if you got any gas left in you and don’t have to be poured out of a bottle.”
“Oh, ye of little faith, those three rounds paid for by Anson certainly won’t stop us from buying a few more, especially since I promised Murph we’d ‘thank’ him properly.”
“By any chance in your well-laid plans for the upcoming extravaganza, did you plan for the amount it’s going to cost us when we have to be picked up, driven to, and poured out of a taxi?”
“Ooooops. Maybe I better stop by a pawn shop before we go to the party; what have you got that we can pawn?”
“Meeee! I wonder why I put up with THE MASTER ORGANIZER AND PLANNER?”
With a very sweet smile on his face, Bodie sighed and said in a velvety voice, “Well, that is something I do have planned, and I didn’t even have to write this down on a board and post it.”
The End
Author: lbc
Note: This is Part II of the story originally posted on December 16, 2019 (link to this part of the story can be found here: https://discoveredinalj.livejournal.com/385805.html
Bodie kept thinking about his words to Doyle. December 22 and 23 had been slow days at CI5. He had been able to finish pressie shopping and wrapping and was eagerly awaiting Jenny’s plane which was due in within the next few hours. It was at that moment that other words became the focus of Bodie’s whole life:
WORST SNOW STORM OF THE DECADE HEADING TOWARDS THE REALM
Not only were these words plastered on the front page of the newspaper that someone had left discarded in the restroom, but it was now being discussed in exacting detail on the telly and wireless.
Bodie’s contempt for the forecasting capabilities of various weather services was legendary. He believed none and was sceptical of all others, but this was an important three days, and he wanted to spend as much time as possible with Jenny so he decided to drop by Doyle’s flat on his way to the airport and deliver his package – that would be one more step on his plan for the holiday that he could cross off.
Since most of the plans that he had posted on the CI5 board involved Jenny, he would be well on his way to accomplishing them once he had picked her up. He just hoped that Doyle was being as efficient and organized as he was so that the two of them could make Anson pay for the three rounds of the best at the pub of their choice.
Once he was at Jenny’s flat, it wouldn’t matter if the snow became an avalanche, and he knew that Doyle’s date just had to be picked up at the hospital so how could anything go wrong?
Arriving at Doyle’s door, Bodie could smell delicious odors so his expectations for Doyle’s part in their holiday plans were coming along nicely. After pounding again on the door, it was finally flung open and a less than happy Ray Doyle stood before him. He was wearing his usual skin tight jeans, that emerald shirt that Bodie liked so much, and a small apron which only hinted at the treasures beneath.
Bodie stood there staring for a moment, then his face broke out in a smirk as he said, “You know, Doyle, you’re going to make someone a great wife. That’s a really cute apron you got on there.”
If Bodie had noticed earlier the blazing light in the beautiful green eyes that were throwing venomous looks at him, he would never had uttered those words, but now it was too late and he was going to be exposed to the full force of the Doyle temper. “I’VE BEEN BUSY AND ALL FOR NOTHIN’, you dumb crud. Charlotte gave me this last Christmas, and I thought she’d appreciate it if I wore it, and then you come by and rub it in.”
Bodie took a step back as if he felt like he had been hit with a battering ram. What was going on? What had gone wrong with their perfect plans?
“What are you talking about Doyle? I’m here to give you your pressie, just like we planned, and I HOPE, you have mine so I can get out of here ‘cause I noticed a few flakes coming down and I still got to get to the airport.”
Suddenly, Doyle’s face took on a new look, one almost as if he were appreciating a joke that only he knew. “Come in you, nitwit; have I got news for you and your great big plans for the holidays.”
Now Bodie was really nervous, but being the suave, debonair, and assured man that he was, he knew that he could handle anything. “Doyle, me boy, what is it so Uncle Bodie can fix it?”
Once again the Doyle temper took off, “Oh, can you fix a foot of snow in the next few hours? Can you fix my stove almost burning some of the food that I have so carefully prepared? Can you fix that Charlotte’s dumped me for some turkey she met at the hospital and is off on some rendez-vous to her parents?”
While this rant was going on Doyle removed with a great deal of vehemence the apron from his slender waist and stood their looking as if he were ready to take on all comers, including the soon-to-be-dead man named WAP Bodie.
Bodie’s confusion reached paramount heights as he tried to understand what Doyle was telling him, but soon the words – dumped me – came to the forefront. Bodie was a brave man, but it was with hesitancy that he whispered, “You mean Charlotte’s not coming over or doing anything on our plan board?”
“Yes, that’s exactly what I mean my organizing genius. All the plans you put on there for me are now up the whazoo because I won’t be cuddling with Charlotte or any other of the lascivious things that I was planning. Now just what do you think of that?”
“Oh, oh, well, don’t worry, I’ll think of something. I’m sure Murph will be very understanding when he gets here in two days time.”
Doyle’s curls were practically standing on end as he said with very little hope in his voice, “You think we can bribe him?”
“My high principled friend would never succumb to a bribe, but I do know some dirt about him so maybe we can extort some positive attitudes out of him.”
Doyle looked highly sceptical at this remark, and was prepared to question it when suddenly Bodie’s face turned sheet white as one of the statements that Doyle had made recently came to mind. “WHAT DO YOU MEAN a foot of snow in the next few hours. There were just a few flakes when I drove over here.”
“Haven’t you been listening to the news?”
“Been too busy, completing all my plans for this holiday. I even went to the pub as well as stopping by and picking up some liquid refreshment to entertain Jenny with.”
Doyle put his hands on his slim hips and said through gritted teeth, “You better check with the airport, if those snow reports are right.”
“Doyle, me lad, I will now leave you and go out and get in my car, head to the airport where Jenny will be anxiously awaiting for my presence and then spend the next three days cuddled up and enjoying Jenny’s delicious cooking. My sincere condolences for the trouble with your oven, but be sure you accomplish as many of your plans as possible and I’ll take care of the rest.”
Practically throwing Doyle’s present at him, Bodie turned and headed out the door, not even seeming to note Doyle’s loud shout, “Don’t you want your pressie?”
Less than three minutes later, the snow covered body of WAP Bodie dragged itself up to Doyle’s door and banged even louder than before. Doyle quietly opened the door but the smirk on his face demonstrated his knowledge of Bodie’s message before Bodie even burst forth with,
“My car’s buried in snow! How could it have come down so fast?”
“Maybe if you had had the brains to watch the forecast this wouldn’t have happened.”
“Well, where’s your car, I can take it and get Jenny?”
Doyle looked slightly confused as he said, “Well, I parked it by the kerb last night so I assume it’s . . . - NOOOOOOO!”
Doyle quickly ran down the steps. Soon followed by Bodie, who found the Doyle glacier sitting a few places from the Bodie avalanche. The two cars were completely buried under very heavy and dense snow. There would be no quick dig out for either car.
Bodie wiped a smirk off his face and said to Doyle, “I’m going to use your phone to call the airport and leave a message for Jenny that I might be a few minutes late. Get your boots and coat on, Doyle; we’re going to pretend to be miners and do some digging.”
Quickly turning and running up the stairs to use the phone, Bodie rang through to the airport, but by the time Doyle re-climbed the stairs to his flat, the optimism that Bodie had shown so recently was no longer apparent. As Doyle entered the room, Bodie turned and said in a glazed over tone, “Jenny’s flight has been rerouted to somewhere in Germany and won’t be released for return until after the 26th.”
Doyle reached in his pocket and brought out a handkerchief, wiping his eyes ceremoniously, “You poor thing. Well, at least, we don’t have to dig out either car. You can hoof it home on the tube and wait for the spring thaw.”
Seeing disaster staring him in the face, Bodie immediately pulled himself together. “Like hell, am I going to hoof it to the tube station. I’m staying put here; I’ll make do with your sofa, and some of that stuff that you’ve been burning all afternoon. I’m not picky.”
“That’s what I’ve said about you and your choice in birds for years, but what makes you think I’m going to invite you to stay?”
“You got food, and I got your pressie (promptly grabbing it back from where it had landed), so let’s make the best of this.”
“But, what are you going to tell Murph on Boxing Day?”
“Don’t you worry about that - - if all else fails, I’ll sign him up for another hitch with the SAS so he won’t be available to judge our plans.”
“I won’t say you’re a genius, Bodie, but I do like that idea. Why don’t you sign yourself up as well? You’ll need to get out of town fast, if we have to pay off this ignorant bet of yours.”
“Doyle, I’m hurt; I was only defending you.”
“Pull the other one, Bodie. Now, since it looks like I’m going to be stuck with you until tomorrow, let’s eat something – after all I’ve got it fixed, and I know you’ll eat anything burnt or not.”
“All right, but I think there was an insult of my gourmet eating tastes somewhere in there.”
An hour later the two men pulled back from Doyle’s small kitchen table. Doyle had, of course, eaten in moderation; Bodie had not. His waist line had visibly increased just while they were eating. Doyle looked at his partner and smiled, “Well, at least with you around, I don’t have to worry about there being food left over. I’m going to have enough stuff after tomorrow’s extravaganza.”
“Oh, what are we having?”
“Whatta ya mean, WE?”
“Well, it’s going to take several hours to dig me car out, and I figured I would need some sustenance after that. Besides I might be persuaded to work on your car while I’m out there putting my shovel to the snow. By the way, where is your shovel?”
“Where’s mine? Don’t you have one? I usually use my neighbor’s upstairs since we have a deal where I clean off her car at the same time, but she’s away this holiday.”
“O great, maybe Murph will have one when he comes on Boxing Day, but I do have to say that’s very poor planning and organizing, Doyle, me lad.”
“You’ll have several hours to yourself while I prepare food tomorrow so you can hoof it to a store and get us a shovel. That way you’ll earn your food instead of mooching it like you were planning to do with Jenny..”
In the faintly reminiscent sound of a baby whining, Bodie immediately shot back, “But the stores will be closed, and I’ll get cold.”
“Call around now and see who’s open and where we can get a shovel.”
“I know; I’ll call Murph and tell him to be sure and bring a shovel with him when he comes and we’ll cut him in on the food and the drinks on the 26th.”
“I thought you said that he was incorruptible?”
“But, he is open to blackmail and extortion.”
“That’s the second time that you’ve hinted about you knowing something about Murph; what is it?”
“If I tell you, then you might use it against my dear friend and it would be less effective as one of my tools of friendship.”
“Some friend, we all know another so-called friend that you shafted by getting him involved in a bet. It’s a wonder you have any friends at all.”
Doyle,, do you sit up at night, thinking up these wounding insults to hurl at me?”
“Nah, don’t have to; with you the insults come easily.”
“If I didn’t depend on you for my bed and board tonight and part time tomorrow, I’d be very offended at that.”
“You just remember that, and now how about some of that libation that you purchased to lure Jenny into your clutches?”
“But, what if we drink it all up, what will I give Jenny?”
“You got two options, Bodie. One is to hoard the booze for what may be your swan song with Jenny or make me happy since I’m the one who fed you, will give you a bed for the evening, and then food for tomorrow. So what’s it going to be?”
The phrase: since I’m the one who fed you, and the one who will bed you, quickly floated through Bodie’s mind and then went off into nether space. What a delightful thought. Bodie pulled himself together, however, and said, “All right, we’ll open up one bottle just to toast the coming events, but I have to save me drinking for after I shovel out the great glacier of the western world tomorrow. You are going to come out and help me, aren’t you?”
“Well, maybe after I get the turkey on and some other stuff done. I’ll tell you what; I’ll give you a nice bowl of museli and then send you off to dig us out.”
“You’ll give me a complete fry up or there will only be one car dug out tomorrow.”
“You are cruel, Bodie. I don’t know why I put up with you.”
“Whatta ya mean, you put up with me? I’ve shown you the way to survive on the streets, and given you the benefit of all my hard-earned knowledge for almost eight years, YOU SHOULD BE COUNTIN’ YOURSELF LUCKY TO KNOW ME.”
“I can’t take anymore of this so hand over the booze or you don’t get your puddin’ this evening.”
“You didn’t say anything about puddin’; it’s a good thing I saved a teeny little spot right here (indicating a spot near his belly button) for such an eventuality.
Doyle crossed his eyes as he stared at the vast abyss that was the Bodie eating machine, then said, “I’ll go get glasses and the puddin’; you get the drinks ready.”
Bodie dragged out one of the bottles that he had purchased and then waited to see what Doyle was serving his gourmet taste. Within a minute or two Doyle brought in two glasses and a small Swiss roll about the size of one of those American hot dog buns.
“Where’d you get that? I’ll have to get my magnifying glass to even see it.”
“Well, if you don’t want it, I’ll just take it back; the kids next door will be happy to have it. I looked long and hard to find even this one, so you better be glad to have it, you ungrateful sod.”
By this time Bodie was practically drooling; he made a quick agent-like move which put him up close and personal with the Swiss roll and promptly devastated it with three swift bites.
The evening quickly went down hill from there as the level of liquor in the bottle diminished proportionally. Several Christmas songs were “sung” and very “funny” stories were told so that when Doyle finally suggested they go to bed, Bodie’s stupor was just one stage above a coma.
Doyle disappeared and returned with some blankets and bed-fixings for the settee and let Bodie have at it. The ex-merc would have said that he would have vegetated right there with very little help for the next decade except that he heard some moans and strange sounds coming from Doyle’s bedroom a few hours later. The fact that he recognized those moans and muffled words sent shivers up his back, sobered him immediately, and sent him racing into Doyle’s bedroom.
Doyle was tossing and turning on the badly disheveled sheets, practically pawing at his chest. Bodie closed his eyes for a moment, this was the nightmare that Doyle had suffered from when he had been shot in the chest by the Chinese girl. Why was he dreaming about the shooting almost two years later?
Bodie quickly went to the bed and climbed in, taking the slender figure into his arms, much as he had done for so many nights during Doyle’s recovery two years ago. Bodie knew how vulnerable Doyle was at this moment so he gently spoke his name so he would wake to a voice he knew.
“Doyle, Doyle, it’s okay; it’s okay. Wake up.”
Suddenly green eyes groggily looked at him as Doyle returned to wakefulness. “Bodie? Why are you dressed; is there a fire alarm or something?”
Bodie smiled affectionately at the man whose scrawny body had enticed him almost from the moment they met, “No, you dumb crud. Don’t you remember; we’re snowed in, and you exiled me to the sofa and I didn’t want to embarrass Santa in case he made an appearance at this place to hand out some coal.”
Sleepily Doyle replied, “Oh yeah, but I felt something hit my chest and pain and then you were there; thanks, I guess I was having that nightmare again.”
“I’ll guess you were. Now, about you cuddle up all warm under your duvet (I guess we can count that as fitting one of our plans) and get some sleep?”
“Will you rub my scar like you used to, it kind of hurts?”
Doyle had stayed with Bodie in his two bedroom flat during Doyle’s recovery from the shooting and many nights, Doyle’s pain from the healing scar, had kept him awake. Only Bodie’s gentle massage of the long, ugly scar had seemed to help diminish the pain.
During all those months Doyle refused to go out with any bird because he said he didn’t feel well enough, but Bodie knew that Doyle was reluctant to expose his chest which had been shaved and bore that long scar that was taking its time healing. Only after Doyle’s usual chest hair came back in around the scar, did he feel less embarrassed about taking off his shirt. For a man who usually wore his shirts with several buttons undone, this modesty demonstrated how truly disturbed Doyle was by the injury.
Bodie pulled Doyle’s sweaty body closer to him and began to slowly massage the still readily apparent scar. Gradually Doyle seemed to relax. Burying himself closer into Bodie’s body, Doyle whispered, How come you have clothes on and I don’t?”
“I told you; I’m very modest where Santa is concerned. He might not give me my pressies if I showed him my birthday suit.”
“Well, I like you in your birthday suit; let’s pretend it’s May and you’re going to celebrate. Bodie figured he could stall until Doyle was asleep, but suddenly, Doyle grabbed Bodie’s hand and moved it down to cover his groin area. “Please, Bodie, please, help me.”
“All right, Angelfish, let me take care of it.”
Bodie began to gently rub Doyle’s manhood and then managed to swallow most of the delicious semen that burst forth from Doyle’s organ. Both men lay back exhausted and drained for several minutes until Bodie got up and got some towels to clean them up.
Feeling the warmth from the towel, Doyle smiled and said, “Sorry about that; couldn’t control myself. You didn’t have to do that, Bodie.” Green eyes stared at his bed partner for a few minutes then Doyle noticed that Bodie was just finishing cleaning himself up as well. “Why you cleanin’ up?”
“It seems I should have listened to you and taken off my clothes, ‘cause I had a little accident.”
“Yeah?” Doyle seemed pleased by the effects of potency of his orgasm on Bodie. “You mean I did that to you?”
“Sure enough, sugar pie, see what you can do when you’re drunk, AND having a nightmare. Just think what you’d be like if you were sober.”
Doyle opened one eye to look at Bodie, observing his now undressed state. “We got a lot to do tomorrow. Get back in bed and maybe we can see what we can do as an encore tomorrow.”
Bodie stood there stupefied and stunned. Did Doyle really mean that? Would he even remember what he said? Whatever, Bodie was absolutely sure he was going to have a very pleasant dream wrapped up next to the human heating pad and pressure cooker, Ray Doyle.
Unfortunately, the next morning, Doyle was already out of bed early, dealing with the turkey and fixins’ that awaited preparation. Bodie figured it was ridiculous to shower before he went out to deal with the snow so he went to the kitchen, hesitantly peeking his head around the door. “Happy Christmas, what’s your handyman/janitor’s name?”
“Nordlinger, why?”
“Thought he might be able to loan me a shovel.”
“You can try, but good luck; he’s a bit crotchety sometimes.”
“See you in a little while.”
It took Doyle over an hour to get the turkey in the oven and the other needed preparations. If he had been truthful, Doyle would have had to admit the distraction of his thoughts while he worked. Bodie had not even mentioned their activities last night so it looked like the ex-merc was once again avoiding any confrontation about their feelings for each other. Doyle sighed as he realized that he had probably made a fool of himself to Bodie. Bodie had probably only used his mouth as sort of an apology for getting him into the bet and it really meant nothing at all. Checking to make sure everything was cooking as he wanted it, Doyle decided to hunt down Nordlinger to see if he had another shovel.
Ten minutes later, Doyle exited the building with shovel in hand. He had expected to see a great deal of snow covering the cars out front, but Bodie had already uncovered his own car and now seemed to be working on Doyle’s. In addition, he had several helpers in the form of the boys who lived next door. They were enthusiastic and moving along at a terrific pace. Bodie, seeing Doyle, walked over smiling like a Chessie cat. “Well, you can see I used my superior planning brain and got the local urchins in on the act. For a bit of money and a promise, they’ve done most of the work. I also had them do a few other cars as well.”
“You are truly a planning genius, but where’d you get the shovel?”
“I talked to Otto and he opened up your lady friend’s flat and got the shovel for me, good thinking wasn’t it?”
“What’d you have to promise him?”
“Whatta ya mean?”
“Otto doesn’t do anything for nothing”
“Well, I sort of mentioned the turkey and fixins you were planning for today, and I sort of promised him a care basket of some of the goodies.”
Doyle stared at his friend who liked to boast of his hard exterior but deep down was pretty soft. Doyle was about to remark on the food donation, when a snowball hit both Doyle and Bodie dead on target with full body hits.
Turning around they spotted some of the “helpers” preparing to fire again. “Hey, you’ll be sorry you did that.” Thus ensued a major snowball fight that left everyone drenched and cold from a fight that certainly rivaled Waterloo in dimensions.
The two older men finally got inside from the snowball melee but they were absolutely soaked so Doyle told Bodie that he should take off his clothes and take a shower. Mother Hen Bodie immediately reacted with, “Nah, I’m fine, you go and get warm and take your shower; I can wait.”
“Bodie, I am not an invalid; it’s been two years.” Doyle stared at Bodie’s abashed face and then relented, “I’ll tell you what; I’m going to go check on the food since you seem to have promised several care baskets and then I’ll be in to join you. How’s that?”
Bodie only nodded and went off to the loo. Doyle was not to know that the reason Bodie hadn’t spoken was because he had swallowed his Adam’s apple in anticipation of a naked Doyle joining him in the shower.
Five minutes later, both men were in the very hot shower, trying to thaw the chill from their bodies. Fortunately, seeing Doyle naked helped Bodie not only thaw but actually percolate heat which created
an atmosphere of steam in the confined area.
Doyle had his head throw nback as he savoured the delicious warmth of the water drizzling down his body. He didn’t dare look at Bodie’s naked body or there would be a repeat of his reaction in bed earlier. For eight years, Doyle had known Bodie but had never expected to see the two men in the shower together. They had, of course, showered at CI5 after exercising, but even when Doyle was so badly hurt and needed help showering, Bodie had left some clothes on. Now they were both here – naked.
Bodie insisted on soaping Doyle all over so Doyle returned the favour. It was a moment that was perfection when Doyle suddenly remembered, he had food in the oven and hungry hordes (led by Bodie) who would not take kindly to the oven recreating Pompeii all over again. Grabbing a towel, Doyle quickly rinsed off and then wrapped his robe around him and headed for the kitchen where a suspicious smell was emanating.
Five minutes later, Bodie appeared in the kitchen, dressed in an extra set of clothes he kept at Doyle’s for emergencies. “How bad is it?”
“It’s okay; I got out here just in time. Why don’t you set up the baskets so we can get them ready for Nordlinger and the kids. How many kids did you promise some food, did you say?”
“It was five but three of them are eating together so it will be four baskets all together. We got that much don’t we?”
“Well, we do if you don’t take more than six helpings this afternoon.”
“I’ll try to control myself.”
The menu of turkey, potatoes, brussel sprouts, yorkshire pudding, and rolls proved to be highly popular with one and all, including the ex-merc, who had eaten some totally unmentionable items during past Christmases. All afternoon, Bodie had been uncommonly quiet and shy. Doyle read this shyness as admission that Bodie was sorry that he had ever been intimate with Doyle and that Bodie was trying to tell Doyle that they should stay away from each other.
Ray Doyle had always prided himself on his familiarity with Bodie’s desires and thoughts, but this time he was totally wrong. He had totally misread his partner. William Bodie very badly wanted to be with his partner, but Bodie’s past was constantly oozing into his present. His past wasn’t a pleasant one, and his commitment to anyone or anything had been minimal at best - - very limited until HE HAD MET RAY DOYLE. Now Bodie was afraid that he had strained this precious relationship with Doyle in a moment of raw need. Doyle had said very little about what Bodie had done, but neither had he been in ecstasy either.
When Doyle had been so badly injured, it had seemed natural for Bodie to take Doyle into his flat and look after him, but it had proven to be some of the hardest months of Bodie’s life. He had almost lost Doyle physically, and now he had come very close to losing Doyle emotionally because he couldn’t control himself.
Each time he had rubbed Doyle’s angry, red scar two years ago, it had been pure agony. He had so badly wanted to tell Doyle what his feelings were, but as Doyle recovered, it became readily apparent that the ex-copper did not want that type of relationship with his partner and so they had returned to the status quo and NOW they were snowed in or almost that way since, after many hours of hard work, Bodie was very close to having his car free from the mess that had trapped him here at Doyle’s. He had eaten a wonderful meal; he was now going to get out of Doyle’s flat before he made a fatal mistake which would send all his hopes crashing down.
“Well, that was a delicious meal, Doyle. Let’s get things cleared up and then I can go liberate my car and head on home.”
“Aren’t you going to stay to hear the Queen?”
“I’m sure she can get along without me. I haven’t been home in two days and I only had that one change of clothing so I really need to head on out.”
“Oh, I understand, but I thought you might want to sample your Christmas puddin’ before you leave. Besides that, don’t you have to be here to see Murph when he shows up to check that all of our plans have been accomplished?”
“I’ve tried to call him several times to let him know that there have been a “few problems”, but he hasn’t answered, I guess he’s with . . .”
Green eyes stared at Bodie as Doyle waited for Bodie to complete the sentence, but when he didn’t, Doyle knew something was going on. “Tell me about Murph’s newest fling. How long has he known her? He’s sure been closed-mouth about her. How come you know so much about them?”
Bodie polished his fingernails on his shirt and then said he a superior sounding voice, “Just my superior planning powers and my splendid organizational ability.”
Doyle grinned and added, “And your propensity to eavesdrop whenever you get the chance.”
“Naughty, naughty, Doyle. No wonder, Santa, only gave you a piece of coal.”
Suddenly both men got an amazed look on their faces and then both burst forth with, “WE FORGOT OUR PRESSIES!”
Quickly both men ran to get their presents and handed them to each other. Doyle stood, waiting for Bodie to open his package. His method of “opening” his package would have done justice to the Mongol hordes ravaging Asia, but the look on Bodie’s face was all that Doyle hoped for. “It’s a certificate for my Norton; now I can get it fixed up the way I’ve wanted. Doyle, you shouldn’t have - - that’s a fair bit of money you spent. Thank you so much, but I can’t believe the cheapskate of the Western World broke down and spent so much. You must have an ulterior motive.”
“I was hoping you could get that bike fixed so I wouldn’t have to be ashamed to go out with you and have total strangers gawking at us.”
“I’ll let you know a little secret, Doyle. THEY WEREN’T GAWKING at my bike, it was at your face.”
Doyle quickly stuck out his tongue, then began to open his pressie. He stared at the tickets inside with his mouth dropped open. “I don’t believe it; who did you have to blackmail to get these? They’ve been sold out for months.”
“Well, when do you think I got them? I stood outside in the rain, waiting for them to go on sale. I had to make up a pretty convincing story to fool Cowley into letting me come in late that day.”
“Was that the day you said that you almost got run over by a taxi, got splashed, had to run home, and then when you got home, your landlady was having the screaming meemies and you had to take her to the A&E?”
“Well, of course, it was. You don’t think I have those kinds of days all the time, do you? I got into line just in time to get the tickets and then rushed back to CI5, but since I was already wet that really added verisimilitude to my story.”
“I wish you wouldn’t throw around those big words. If Anson had heard that, he would have reported you to Cowley for naughty language. Well, I guess your ingenuity and generosity makes you worthy of your Christmas puddin’. Sit down and I’ll get it.”
There were a few anxious moments but soon Doyle re-entered the lounge, carrying a plate. On the festively decorated plate was the largest Swiss Roll that Bodie had ever seen. It must have been over two foot in length and could barely fit on the serving platter. Bodie’s eyes bulged out, his tongue hung out of his mouth, drool dripped all over and Bodie’s face was the picture of hunger and preparation to devour the innocent victim that was covered in chocolate.
“Wow, that’s the biggest roll I’ve ever seen. Where’d you get it?”
“Well, when I got you that small one for the 24th, I asked Mario if he could make a larger one for today, and this is what he came up with.”
“Have you got any money left, Doyle? We might have to take out a loan to pay for this bet if Murphy doesn’t come through.”
“I’ve got a bit set aside, but I am not footing this bill all by myself. You better prepare your lily-white hands to wash dishes if we can’t cover the whole thing. Besides, I thought you said that you had leverage against Murph and could fix whatever happened?”
“Well, that might be up the spout, if I can’t get a hold of his majesty before tomorrow. If he arrives, planning to do his duty and refuses to sink his moral principles then I guess we’re going to have to bite the bullet and pay up.”
“Whatta ya mean, WE?”
“You wouldn’t abandon me in my hour of need would you? Maybe I better get home and see if I can find some stuff to pawn first thing on the 27th before the confrontation with that arsehole Anson.”
“You are not leaving here. You are staying and eating your puddin’, then we’re listening to the Queen, and then we’re going to sample some more of your bottles so that we are feeling no pain, and then we’ll get up tomorrow and bravely face the judgement of Murphy. Do you hear me?”
“Yes, Mum, but you better not throw me to the wolves or I’ll pawn you instead. Of course, I doubt if I’ll get much money for that scrawny body.”
“You call me scrawny one more time, and I will personally put out a personal advertisement, delineating some of your less than pleasing characteristics.”
“Whatta ya mean by that? Everybody knows that I’m Tall, Dark, . . . “
“Handsome and modest. Yeah, I noticed that on the poster you mounted. Murphy was the only one who understood what it meant so that tells me that those adjectives are pretty well
unknown as descriptions of you - - at least, according to your fellow agents and some of your former birds.”
“I can’t help it if they’re jealous.”
“Oh brother, what an ego. Now you go wash your hands, pour us out some more liquor and I’ll cut you a big piece of the ambrosia roll and we’ll listen to Her Majesty.”
By the end of the day, the roll had almost disappeared, the bottles were severely diminished, the two gentlemen were feeling very little pain, and speaking with less clarity than usual. Bodie had started to make up his bed on the sofa when Doyle intervened, insisting that Bodie share his bed in a spirit of good Christmas cheer.
Although Bodie was less than sober, his organizing and planning faculties were still sufficient that he did not turn down this gift of a lifetime. “Of course, I will, Doyle, but did you change your sheets after last night’s little mishap?”
Suddenly, the beautiful green eyes dimmed, and Doyle looked incredibly sad and dismayed. Whispering, Doyle replied, “Of course, I did, but I wouldn’t want you to be contaminated by that little “mishap” so I’ll sleep on the sofa and you can have the bed ALL TO YOURSELF.” With those words, Doyle turned away with the intention of finding some bed clothes for himself. Bodie immediately grabbed Doyle’s slender wrist and pulled the body he adored to him.
Leaning over so he could whisper in Doyle’s ear, Bodie said, “Remember that time when we were at the garage, and I goosed you in front of Jack, the garage man?”
“How could I forget that? It was all I could do not to react. I should have turned around and slugged you, but Jack would have told Cowley and then you would have been out on your ear.”
“Well, I would have been out on my something, but that was not my point.”
“Well, what was then?”
“I have wanted to caress and cuddle that bum ever since then. You are a satyr in jeans, and I want you to be my permanent Christmas pressie. No more Jennys or Charlottes or any one else – just you and me, whatta ya say to that?”
“Whatta ya think Cowley will say?”
“We will tell the Cow we want to room together to cut down on expenses and his Scots-soul will fall right in line with our plans.
“You’re crazy, Bodie. We can’t afford to be out of jobs when we face that huge pub bill in two days time.”
“Never fear, Doyle. The Bodie thinking and planning machine will get us out of this so let’s go to bed, plan our activities for tomorrow, and then show up bright and bushy-tailed on the 27th ready to meet all comers.”
Bodie made love to Doyle as gently as possible since he didn’t want to scare his partner. This night had been in the planning for almost eight years, and Bodie wanted it to be totally successful so that Doyle would keep coming back for more.
Early the next morning, Bodie lay on his side, his head propped up, feeling very pleased with himself. He was a bit sticky, but he was feeling totally satiated. Now they just had to get through tomorrow without having to declare bankruptcy and everything would be all right.
Bodie could have sworn he had just blinked his eyes for a second while staring at the sleeping Doyle when he suddenly heard noise coming from the kitchen. Noticing that Doyle was no longer in bed and it was well beyond dawn, Bodie promptly put two and two together and decided Doyle was hard at work in preparation for Murphy’s ominous visit.
Nevertheless, the two men were determined to continue to extend their new found relationship as well as complete the destruction of the bottles of liquor as well as making sure that there were no leftovers. Bodie had made that his own personal task, and he was succeeding at his goal with admirable expertise.
The only sign of Murphy during the whole day was a call from dispatch that they were expected into CI5 at noon the next day when the shift change would take place and Anson and his minions would be released to their activities which meant Anson would be waiting to find out about the bet.
The surprising information was that Cowley was not yet back from the north since the snow there seemed to be even heavier than in the south. Therefore, Murphy would be taking over command at precisely noon and he expected all the agents notified to be on call.
Bodie could hear Doyle say to the dispatcher that he would let Bodie know about the schedule since the
dispatcher had been unable to reach Bodie. The two men grinned at each other, contemplating the remaining few hours of their freedom before facing the music when their temporary commander took a look at their plans and decided their fate. They began to count out their total funds; their financial future did not look good, but Bodie grabbed Doyle, carried him into the bedroom, and made the best of their situation until the next morning.
When Bodie and Doyle arrived at the restroom, they found most of the oncoming and outgoing shifts huddled around the restroom in anticipation of the all-seeing wisdom of Colin Murphy, who would once again show his omniscience and decide who would provide them with liquid refreshment in just a few hours.
Anson sat in one of the few “comfortable” chairs, stretched out in anticipation of a night of revelry and hopefully a little debauchery if he could find some bird to take him up on it. After all, he was only now starting his holiday. Seeing his two “victims”, Anson burst forth with, “Aha, there are the lambs to the slaughter now. Can hardly wait to hear Murphy’s golden words of wisdom can you? Just remember, we’ll meet at the Silver Duck (a very expensive pub by reputation) to settle your losing bet at 6.00 ‘cause some of us working sods want to get home and relax.”
Bodie crossed his eyes and stuck out his tongue at the ignoramus, but hypertensive Doyle decided to visit the loo before the upcoming “festivities”. Time passed and finally there was noise coming down the corridor from Cowley’s office. The noise grew in intensity and sounds like cheering rose in crescendo until the figure of Colin Murphy appeared in the doorway. Immediately all of the agents stood (or tried to) and gave their temporary leader a salute and began making mock bows to observe his royal presence.
Murphy took all these accolades as his due and acknowledged most of them. Finally, approaching the board where the bedraggled list was posted, Murphy turned and said, “Thank you, thank you. Even now I have been working on your behalf, setting up schedules, and making arrangements for the coming days until he-who-we-must-be-scared-of returns. Therefore, let’s get on with the judging so that the winning pub can be notified. Said ravenous horde, however, will not show up until 6.00 to partake in compliance with the rules of this here challenge. Now let’s have silence so I can mark how many plans were accomplished.
For the next minute or so, the tension rose in the room until it was so dense that it seemed there was little oxygen being exchanged for carbon dioxide because breathing seemed to have been forgot. Finally, after making his calculations, Murphy turned to make his announcement.
“Using my rapier sharp arithmetical calculator known as my brain, I have determined that Bodie and Doyle have completed a total of 92% of their plans. According to the rules then Agent Anson is obligated to pay up three rounds of the best at the pub, Duck’s Waddle at 6.00 this evening – I HAVE SPOKEN.”
Furor immediately broke out as those who bet the wrong way, started counting their money and the victors started planning their selections. Chaos was rampant with back slapping, handshaking, and general congratulatory messages exchanged around the room. Anson’s swooned body was scarcely noticed until one of the larger agents tripped over it. Anson was quickly brought around and informed that his behaviour was not up to the standards of CI5 chivalry (whatever that was) so he would now have to stand one round at said pub that evening for any agent who wished to participate.
Although Murphy was Anson’s partner, he immediately abandoned Anson to his fate as he headed out of the restroom, shaking hands with dozens of agents, waiting to touch the royal benevolence.
After returning to Cowley’s office to take on the job of Alpha 2 until Cowley’s return, Murphy slyly purloined some of Cowley’s finest and waited. Within minutes the two figures he was expecting, appeared at the open doorway.
“Come in, 4.5 and 3.7.”
Bodie grinned and asked in his best Irish accent, “Will ya be joinin’ us in our hour of triumph over the Ansons of this world?”
“Nay, I have too much to do to get the office in shape. It looks like those nitwits who had the holiday shift did virtually nothing. The Cow will hit the stall if he finds out.”
“We’ll be sure to send you some ‘refreshment’ so you can take it home with you – for you and your uh house guest.”
Murphy looked faintly stunned and deeply suspicious as he asked in an apprehensive tone of voice, “You know about my house guest?”
Bodie’s blue eyes twinkled, “Well, I know but Doyle doesn’t.”
Bodie and Murphy turned to look at the “innocent” and grinned. Silence permeated the air of the room as if none of the three men could decide if the office was truly bugged or not.
Doyle looked faintly belligerent as he demanded, “What is it that I don’t know? What’s the matter with your house guest? She got warts or something? If you love her, you should overlook her faults.”
Bodie looked at his partner and lover with a great deal of affection and said, “Well, if Murphy has to overlook Sandy’s fault then I guess I have to do the same with you.”
Although Murphy perked up at these words, he merely looked shrewdly at both Bodie and Doyle and nodded. “I thought you had met Sandy at last year’s Christmas festivities here at headquarters, sorry.”
“I have 20/20 vision Murph as well as 20/20 memory, and I remember vividly you were parading around that tall, good looking blond that you called Sanford . . . “ Doyle stopped as if a light bulb went off in his head - - SANDY. That’s what you called him – well, well, so you’re one of us.”
“From the Chessie cat grins on your two faces, I’d say that the shoe was on the other foot. It’s about time, I thought I was going to have to sit you two down and explain the birds and bees to you. Well, you head on home at the regular time, wouldn’t want you to miss sticking it to Anson, but remember I’ll expect you first thing tomorrow morning.”
Green and blue eyes sparkled as licentious thoughts came to mind. “Thanks, Murph.”
As Doyle headed out the door, however, he turned and said to Murphy, “I do have one question, oh exalted leader,” Murphy studied him carefully and then nodded. “If you and Anson are partners, how come he had to work these last three days and you didn’t?”
Murphy looked faintly saintly but mostly gloating as he grinned and said, “Well, I’ll tell you, Doyle me boyo, perhaps it is my fantastic personality that persuaded Cowley to give me three days rest or perhaps it was my knowledge about that snowed-in conference that Cowley is attending in the north.”
Both men nodded, totally intrigued by Murphy’s words.
“Well, the home that the ‘conference’ is being held in happens to belong to Miss Elizabeth Walsh and guess who’s playing hostess to her ONE AND ONLY guest?
Both men’s jaws dropped open and their eyes bugged out as Doyle recovered first and said, “Naughty, naughty, Mr. Cowley.”
Bodie grinned and said, “I’ll bet he got a lump of coal for that one. I don’t know if I can keep a straight face when I see him next.”
“Yoo will if you want to ask him about our changing our flat arrangements,” Doyle quickly reminded him.
Quickly Bodie adjusted his thinking as evidenced by his next statement, “I hope that conference gets snowed in through the New Year.”
As the two men got into their car to head home to various planned and unplanned activities before showing up at the bacchanalia scheduled for that evening at Anson’s expense, Bodie grinned and said to Doyle, “Now can I plan a holiday or what?” Bodie began to hum a tune (rather badly) that Doyle could not recognize.
“What is that song that your are murdering with your caterwauling?”
“It’s a little ditty, written by Sammy Cahn and Jules Styne in 1945; it’s called LET IT SNOW, LET IT SNOW, LET IT SNOW.
“I know you have a monster ego, but you can’t tell me that you got so much pull that you can plan for even that?”
“Who knows, who knows, by tomorrow morning you might be well-pleased with the plans I’ve made.”
“Well, I’ll let you know after our little soiree ce soir - - that is if you got any gas left in you and don’t have to be poured out of a bottle.”
“Oh, ye of little faith, those three rounds paid for by Anson certainly won’t stop us from buying a few more, especially since I promised Murph we’d ‘thank’ him properly.”
“By any chance in your well-laid plans for the upcoming extravaganza, did you plan for the amount it’s going to cost us when we have to be picked up, driven to, and poured out of a taxi?”
“Ooooops. Maybe I better stop by a pawn shop before we go to the party; what have you got that we can pawn?”
“Meeee! I wonder why I put up with THE MASTER ORGANIZER AND PLANNER?”
With a very sweet smile on his face, Bodie sighed and said in a velvety voice, “Well, that is something I do have planned, and I didn’t even have to write this down on a board and post it.”
The End
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no subject
Date: 2019-12-30 04:09 pm (UTC)Would you send me a copy for Proslib, please. It gets tricky copying long stories from LJ.
Happy New Year!
Thank you, Frances
Date: 2019-12-30 05:20 pm (UTC)lbc
RE: Thank you, Frances
Date: 2019-12-31 04:43 am (UTC)https://discoveredinalj.livejournal.com/385805.html
to make it easy for those coming to it new, and perhaps add this link to Part One
Re: Thank you, Frances
Date: 2019-12-31 03:13 pm (UTC)lbc
RE: Thank you, Frances
Date: 2020-01-06 03:38 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2019-12-31 09:29 am (UTC)Thank you
Date: 2019-12-31 03:13 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2020-01-03 07:18 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2020-01-08 12:46 am (UTC)Thanks
Date: 2020-01-09 03:46 am (UTC)