![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
loyseofverlaine.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
discoveredinaljSnowfall on Epiphany
"Uncle Ray, can we build a snowman after school?"
Doyle looked down at the eager little face tilted up expectantly to him. Epiphany flashed him a bright grin and added, "Bodie will want to."
Glancing upward, Doyle watched the fat wet flakes swirling down through the bare branches above. Though the road had already been stirred to greyish slush by passing traffic, the gardens were clotted-cream white, bushes drooping under thick dollops of snow. Doyle couldn't repress a rueful smile. Bodie was probably out back at that very moment, sussing out the best defensive position for a snowball fight.
"Please?" Epiphany said, tugging at his hand.
"We'll see, pet," Doyle said. "Might be all melted by tea-time."
"No it won't," she said. "It'll snow and snow and be this deep!" She held her free hand up over her head.
"Best hope not, or we'll be snowed in for a week. We'd have to harness Bodie to the sleigh to get up to the shops."
Epiphany gave a little crow of delight and pulled free of his hold, skipping off along the pavement ahead of him, hands above her head to snatch at random snowflakes. Doyle watched her indulgently, fighting down the urge to call after her to be careful.
Without slowing or even appearing to look down, she dodged a puddle in the pavement, making sure not splash her legs. And that, Doyle thought, was the Bodie coming out in her. Epiphany loved her school uniform: the grey pleated skirt, the little hunter green blazer, the matching green and grey striped tie. Bodie had shown her how to hang everything properly, and bought her a miniature clothes brush. As soon as she came home from school each afternoon, everything went neatly into the wardrobe. Once she was dressed in play clothes, Epiphany was happy to romp in the mud, but her school uniform was still special enough that she hovered anxiously on wash days until everything was safely dry. For Doyle, to whom clean jeans and a shirt with all the buttons attached were good enough, the attraction was both endearing and alarming.
At the corner ahead, a tall elegant woman in a long dark coat and white hijab waited with another little girl in the same green and grey school uniform. Epiphany ran up to them, and the two girls were instantly chattering.
"Mr. Doyle." The woman greeted him with a grave smile. "Happy new year."
"And happy new year to you, Mrs. Nasserulla. Did you and Ilhan have a good holiday?"
"Excellent, thank you. This is Ilhan's first snowfall." She glanced fondly at her daughter. The two girls were now playing a game that seemed to involve counting, clapping and catching snowflakes out of the air, giggling with delight.
"Yeah, Pip's already demanding a snowman."
Mrs. Nasserulla's smile broadened. "An excellent idea. I will take Ilhan to the park after school. There may be some space for a small one."
"Do you have gloves?" Doyle said. "Only asking, 'cause her hands will get cold and wet fast, and she'll be so excited she won't notice at first."
"The voice of experience?" Mrs. Nasserulla said drily.
"Memories of misspent youth." Doyle wriggled his fingers, recalling childhood days of sledding and bright red aching hands, and scant sympathy from his parents.
"Thank you. I will purchase us gloves this afternoon." Her gaze returned to the girls. "Ilhan, Epiphany, it is time to go. Take my hands, please."
The two girls reluctantly abandoned their game and marshaled beside Mrs. Nasserulla.
"Have a good day, Pip. Mind your teachers, and don't—"
"Leave school with anybody but you or Bodie or Ilhan's mum. I know." Epiphany was already tugging forward impatiently.
Doyle and Mrs. Nasserulla exchanged amused glances. "I do not recall ever being so eager to get to classes," she said quietly.
"Better than having to drag them in," Doyle replied, and she nodded once before turning to leave.
Epiphany twisted to look over her shoulder. "Remember the snowman, Uncle Ray!" she caroled, and then the three of them were on their way.
Doyle watched until they were safely across the road and entering the gate leading to the schoolyard. He'd acted as bodyguard to spies, government ministers, and foreign dignitaries, but none of them had kept him so alert, so fiercely determined to keep them safe.
Look at you, he thought wryly. Once the terror of CI5, now . . . step-grandad? Not that the exact language mattered. Epiphany was Bodie's and his, and he'd shield her with his life should it come to that.
As he turned to leave, the sudden feeling of being watched prickled the back of his neck. He used the pretext of adjusting his scarf and coat collar to turn his head, but saw no one. Still, he couldn't persuade himself that the sense of unease was just a fancy. Too many years of danger and experience told him that someone was there.
Out of the corner of his eye, he glimpsed a figure on the far side of the road, and his instinct said, Bodie? so strongly he was opening his mouth to call out before his mind caught up. But when he whirled around, all he saw was a lanky boy loping away along the road, an oversize pea coat billowing around him.
A shiver went up Doyle's spine that had nothing to do with the snow. The urge to cross the road and follow Epiphany into the school was so strong he actually rocked back and forth for a moment before pulling himself up short.
***
By afternoon, the snow had changed to a steady drizzle, and all the drifts melted away to sad grey slop shoveled into corners.
"Let's take the car, and pick Eel up," Bodie said, coming in with the post. "We can give Mrs. N and the little N a lift too, save them from a wait in the rain."
Doyle rolled his eyes. "You just want to see if Mrs. Nasserulla will come across with more of those coconut sweets."
"Those macaroons could win the British Bake-off," Bodie said reverently.
"Really have to start monitoring your TV intake a bit more," Doyle said as he went to get his coat and boots.
The sleet and remaining slush snarled traffic enough that by the time they reached the school, it appeared most people had left. A last few cars were just pulling out of the car park at the side of the building, and several older pupils, swathed in macs and scarves, made their way along the road, instrument cases swinging from their backs.
"Let's hope they've had the sense to wait inside." Bodie pulled the Fiesta into a space near the gates. The wind had picked up, and Doyle felt a sting of sleet against his cheek as he got out of the car. He rubbed his hands together, hoping Mrs. Nasserulla had remembered to buy gloves.
"Hear that?" Bodie said, suddenly coming to an abrupt halt.
Doyle didn't even pause to ask what, just broke into a run. The shiver from the morning was back, and with it a terrible sickening feeling that he'd failed, let down Epiphany and Bodie in a way he could never redress.
They hurtled through the school gates, Bodie only a step behind, and now Doyle could clearly hear the sound of loud voices.
Mrs. Nasserulla stood at bay in a corner behind several scraggly bushes, Epiphany and Ilhan crowded behind her. She held a mobile out in front of her like a shield between herself and the man facing her.
Tall, lanky, oversize pea coat dragging around him — Doyle swore viciously.
"I am live-streaming you to Facebook right now!" Mrs. Nasserulla's voice was slightly shaky but clear and loud. "Everyone will see you. Everyone will recognize you. Go away and leave us alone!"
"I'm not doing nothing! I just want to see her a minute." The man gestured at Epiphany.
To Doyle's horror, Epiphany bristled up like a small hedgehog and took a half-step forward. "You made Ilhan cry! Go away."
"Come on, I just want—"
That was when Bodie hit him, a vicious strike to the back of the neck that tumbled him into a heap in the mud, half under one of the bushes. Doyle had a split second to be impressed — for a man Bodie's age, that had been an remarkable punch — and then he found himself crowding between Bodie and the fallen man, gripping his arms with all his strength.
"Bodie! Bodie, stop! He's down." He shook Bodie slightly, pulling him partly around. "Bodie? You'll scare the kids."
It wasn't likely anything else would have cooled the murderous rage Doyle saw on Bodie's face. He felt it himself; a part of him wanted as badly as Bodie did to turn and put the boots to the bastard until there was nothing left but a mass of smashed meat. But there were two little girls a couple of feet away, and whatever he felt, they had to come first.
Bodie pulled in a deep shuddering breath, and then another. He rested his hands on Doyle's shoulders for a moment, and then straightened up.
"Okay, sunshine," he said very softly. "Let's clear up the damage."
Mrs. Nasserulla was still holding her mobile in front of her, her hand now trembling visibly. Ilhan burrowed against her side, weeping so quietly it was nearly inaudible. Epiphany was a step away on the other side, little fists clenched, the expression on her face a mirror of Bodie's fury.
Two of a kind, Doyle thought. God help us.
"Eel?" Bodie lowered himself to a crouch. "It's all right now. You can stand down."
"Bodie?" Her voice quavered.
"It's all right," he repeated.
With an inarticulate sound, she flung herself into his arms. Bodie lifted her up, heedless of wet shoes, rocking her soothingly.
"Uncle Ray?"
"Right here, pet." Doyle moved closer and took her hand, his eyes never leaving the man still sprawled on the ground.
"Mrs. N, you and Ilhan okay?"
Mrs. Nasserulla nodded. "He did not touch us. Just shouted. He wanted Epiphany."
"Thank you." Doyle's throat closed, and he had to swallow hard. "Thank you so much," he repeated. "Two ex-CI5 men, and what saves our girl is a civilian woman with an iPhone."
"I was bluffing," she said, her voice now trembling as much as her hand. "I forgot to charge it this morning." A tear ran down her cheek, and then another.
Doyle put an awkward arm around her shoulder, and for a moment they huddled in a circle in the icy rain, the need for reassuring touch overriding everything else.
A groan from below had them all moving back sharply. The man on the ground pushed himself up on his elbows, moaning and flinching.
"What the fuck happened?" he rasped, and tilted his head with obvious effort to look up.
Thin and hard and very young, his hair shaved almost to the scalp, he could have been Bodie as a boy. If Bodie had never had a soft thought or a generous impulse. If Bodie had crude prison tattoos and had at least once been beaten badly enough to permanently alter the shape of his nose.
Doyle's breath caught, and then he swore. "This is my fault," he said bitterly.
"Ray?" Bodie didn't look around, attention focused on the look-alike at his feet.
"I saw him this morning. I felt someone was watching me. I thought — for just one second I thought I saw you. Couldn't have been, I knew, so I didn't pay enough attention to what I did see."
Epiphany looked at the man on the ground, and then back at the man holding her. "Bodie?" she said dubiously, and repeated the back-and-forth look. One finger went up to touch her own crooked eyebrow.
"That's right, little'un, you've got the Bodie mark." He coughed and winced again, then looked up with an attempt at a smile. "I'm your Uncle Billy. Your mum's brother."
"You know him?" Mrs. Nasserulla's tone held a steely outrage.
"We knew he existed," Bodie said wearily. "Never set eyes on him before. Didn't know where he was, didn't care."
Doyle dug his mobile from his jacket pocket. "Time for the police, I think."
"Doyle, wait," Bodie said.
"We can't wait. Not unless you're planning to take him away and twep him in the back garden."
"Not that I wouldn't like to," Bodie snapped, "but what I meant was, call Murph first. We're going to need some help."
Doyle nodded and moved back to Bodie's side, close enough to touch shoulders. He felt Epiphany's chilly hand against his neck, and rubbed his cheek slightly against it.
Slowly, he scrolled through the contact list, and hit the button for Murphy. For better or worse, CI5 was coming back into their lives.
Author: Verlaine
Slash or Gen: Slash
Archive at ProsLib/Circuit: Not yet, thank you.
Note: This is part of the Feast of Epiphany Series
"Uncle Ray, can we build a snowman after school?"
Doyle looked down at the eager little face tilted up expectantly to him. Epiphany flashed him a bright grin and added, "Bodie will want to."
Glancing upward, Doyle watched the fat wet flakes swirling down through the bare branches above. Though the road had already been stirred to greyish slush by passing traffic, the gardens were clotted-cream white, bushes drooping under thick dollops of snow. Doyle couldn't repress a rueful smile. Bodie was probably out back at that very moment, sussing out the best defensive position for a snowball fight.
"Please?" Epiphany said, tugging at his hand.
"We'll see, pet," Doyle said. "Might be all melted by tea-time."
"No it won't," she said. "It'll snow and snow and be this deep!" She held her free hand up over her head.
"Best hope not, or we'll be snowed in for a week. We'd have to harness Bodie to the sleigh to get up to the shops."
Epiphany gave a little crow of delight and pulled free of his hold, skipping off along the pavement ahead of him, hands above her head to snatch at random snowflakes. Doyle watched her indulgently, fighting down the urge to call after her to be careful.
Without slowing or even appearing to look down, she dodged a puddle in the pavement, making sure not splash her legs. And that, Doyle thought, was the Bodie coming out in her. Epiphany loved her school uniform: the grey pleated skirt, the little hunter green blazer, the matching green and grey striped tie. Bodie had shown her how to hang everything properly, and bought her a miniature clothes brush. As soon as she came home from school each afternoon, everything went neatly into the wardrobe. Once she was dressed in play clothes, Epiphany was happy to romp in the mud, but her school uniform was still special enough that she hovered anxiously on wash days until everything was safely dry. For Doyle, to whom clean jeans and a shirt with all the buttons attached were good enough, the attraction was both endearing and alarming.
At the corner ahead, a tall elegant woman in a long dark coat and white hijab waited with another little girl in the same green and grey school uniform. Epiphany ran up to them, and the two girls were instantly chattering.
"Mr. Doyle." The woman greeted him with a grave smile. "Happy new year."
"And happy new year to you, Mrs. Nasserulla. Did you and Ilhan have a good holiday?"
"Excellent, thank you. This is Ilhan's first snowfall." She glanced fondly at her daughter. The two girls were now playing a game that seemed to involve counting, clapping and catching snowflakes out of the air, giggling with delight.
"Yeah, Pip's already demanding a snowman."
Mrs. Nasserulla's smile broadened. "An excellent idea. I will take Ilhan to the park after school. There may be some space for a small one."
"Do you have gloves?" Doyle said. "Only asking, 'cause her hands will get cold and wet fast, and she'll be so excited she won't notice at first."
"The voice of experience?" Mrs. Nasserulla said drily.
"Memories of misspent youth." Doyle wriggled his fingers, recalling childhood days of sledding and bright red aching hands, and scant sympathy from his parents.
"Thank you. I will purchase us gloves this afternoon." Her gaze returned to the girls. "Ilhan, Epiphany, it is time to go. Take my hands, please."
The two girls reluctantly abandoned their game and marshaled beside Mrs. Nasserulla.
"Have a good day, Pip. Mind your teachers, and don't—"
"Leave school with anybody but you or Bodie or Ilhan's mum. I know." Epiphany was already tugging forward impatiently.
Doyle and Mrs. Nasserulla exchanged amused glances. "I do not recall ever being so eager to get to classes," she said quietly.
"Better than having to drag them in," Doyle replied, and she nodded once before turning to leave.
Epiphany twisted to look over her shoulder. "Remember the snowman, Uncle Ray!" she caroled, and then the three of them were on their way.
Doyle watched until they were safely across the road and entering the gate leading to the schoolyard. He'd acted as bodyguard to spies, government ministers, and foreign dignitaries, but none of them had kept him so alert, so fiercely determined to keep them safe.
Look at you, he thought wryly. Once the terror of CI5, now . . . step-grandad? Not that the exact language mattered. Epiphany was Bodie's and his, and he'd shield her with his life should it come to that.
As he turned to leave, the sudden feeling of being watched prickled the back of his neck. He used the pretext of adjusting his scarf and coat collar to turn his head, but saw no one. Still, he couldn't persuade himself that the sense of unease was just a fancy. Too many years of danger and experience told him that someone was there.
Out of the corner of his eye, he glimpsed a figure on the far side of the road, and his instinct said, Bodie? so strongly he was opening his mouth to call out before his mind caught up. But when he whirled around, all he saw was a lanky boy loping away along the road, an oversize pea coat billowing around him.
A shiver went up Doyle's spine that had nothing to do with the snow. The urge to cross the road and follow Epiphany into the school was so strong he actually rocked back and forth for a moment before pulling himself up short.
***
By afternoon, the snow had changed to a steady drizzle, and all the drifts melted away to sad grey slop shoveled into corners.
"Let's take the car, and pick Eel up," Bodie said, coming in with the post. "We can give Mrs. N and the little N a lift too, save them from a wait in the rain."
Doyle rolled his eyes. "You just want to see if Mrs. Nasserulla will come across with more of those coconut sweets."
"Those macaroons could win the British Bake-off," Bodie said reverently.
"Really have to start monitoring your TV intake a bit more," Doyle said as he went to get his coat and boots.
The sleet and remaining slush snarled traffic enough that by the time they reached the school, it appeared most people had left. A last few cars were just pulling out of the car park at the side of the building, and several older pupils, swathed in macs and scarves, made their way along the road, instrument cases swinging from their backs.
"Let's hope they've had the sense to wait inside." Bodie pulled the Fiesta into a space near the gates. The wind had picked up, and Doyle felt a sting of sleet against his cheek as he got out of the car. He rubbed his hands together, hoping Mrs. Nasserulla had remembered to buy gloves.
"Hear that?" Bodie said, suddenly coming to an abrupt halt.
Doyle didn't even pause to ask what, just broke into a run. The shiver from the morning was back, and with it a terrible sickening feeling that he'd failed, let down Epiphany and Bodie in a way he could never redress.
They hurtled through the school gates, Bodie only a step behind, and now Doyle could clearly hear the sound of loud voices.
Mrs. Nasserulla stood at bay in a corner behind several scraggly bushes, Epiphany and Ilhan crowded behind her. She held a mobile out in front of her like a shield between herself and the man facing her.
Tall, lanky, oversize pea coat dragging around him — Doyle swore viciously.
"I am live-streaming you to Facebook right now!" Mrs. Nasserulla's voice was slightly shaky but clear and loud. "Everyone will see you. Everyone will recognize you. Go away and leave us alone!"
"I'm not doing nothing! I just want to see her a minute." The man gestured at Epiphany.
To Doyle's horror, Epiphany bristled up like a small hedgehog and took a half-step forward. "You made Ilhan cry! Go away."
"Come on, I just want—"
That was when Bodie hit him, a vicious strike to the back of the neck that tumbled him into a heap in the mud, half under one of the bushes. Doyle had a split second to be impressed — for a man Bodie's age, that had been an remarkable punch — and then he found himself crowding between Bodie and the fallen man, gripping his arms with all his strength.
"Bodie! Bodie, stop! He's down." He shook Bodie slightly, pulling him partly around. "Bodie? You'll scare the kids."
It wasn't likely anything else would have cooled the murderous rage Doyle saw on Bodie's face. He felt it himself; a part of him wanted as badly as Bodie did to turn and put the boots to the bastard until there was nothing left but a mass of smashed meat. But there were two little girls a couple of feet away, and whatever he felt, they had to come first.
Bodie pulled in a deep shuddering breath, and then another. He rested his hands on Doyle's shoulders for a moment, and then straightened up.
"Okay, sunshine," he said very softly. "Let's clear up the damage."
Mrs. Nasserulla was still holding her mobile in front of her, her hand now trembling visibly. Ilhan burrowed against her side, weeping so quietly it was nearly inaudible. Epiphany was a step away on the other side, little fists clenched, the expression on her face a mirror of Bodie's fury.
Two of a kind, Doyle thought. God help us.
"Eel?" Bodie lowered himself to a crouch. "It's all right now. You can stand down."
"Bodie?" Her voice quavered.
"It's all right," he repeated.
With an inarticulate sound, she flung herself into his arms. Bodie lifted her up, heedless of wet shoes, rocking her soothingly.
"Uncle Ray?"
"Right here, pet." Doyle moved closer and took her hand, his eyes never leaving the man still sprawled on the ground.
"Mrs. N, you and Ilhan okay?"
Mrs. Nasserulla nodded. "He did not touch us. Just shouted. He wanted Epiphany."
"Thank you." Doyle's throat closed, and he had to swallow hard. "Thank you so much," he repeated. "Two ex-CI5 men, and what saves our girl is a civilian woman with an iPhone."
"I was bluffing," she said, her voice now trembling as much as her hand. "I forgot to charge it this morning." A tear ran down her cheek, and then another.
Doyle put an awkward arm around her shoulder, and for a moment they huddled in a circle in the icy rain, the need for reassuring touch overriding everything else.
A groan from below had them all moving back sharply. The man on the ground pushed himself up on his elbows, moaning and flinching.
"What the fuck happened?" he rasped, and tilted his head with obvious effort to look up.
Thin and hard and very young, his hair shaved almost to the scalp, he could have been Bodie as a boy. If Bodie had never had a soft thought or a generous impulse. If Bodie had crude prison tattoos and had at least once been beaten badly enough to permanently alter the shape of his nose.
Doyle's breath caught, and then he swore. "This is my fault," he said bitterly.
"Ray?" Bodie didn't look around, attention focused on the look-alike at his feet.
"I saw him this morning. I felt someone was watching me. I thought — for just one second I thought I saw you. Couldn't have been, I knew, so I didn't pay enough attention to what I did see."
Epiphany looked at the man on the ground, and then back at the man holding her. "Bodie?" she said dubiously, and repeated the back-and-forth look. One finger went up to touch her own crooked eyebrow.
"That's right, little'un, you've got the Bodie mark." He coughed and winced again, then looked up with an attempt at a smile. "I'm your Uncle Billy. Your mum's brother."
"You know him?" Mrs. Nasserulla's tone held a steely outrage.
"We knew he existed," Bodie said wearily. "Never set eyes on him before. Didn't know where he was, didn't care."
Doyle dug his mobile from his jacket pocket. "Time for the police, I think."
"Doyle, wait," Bodie said.
"We can't wait. Not unless you're planning to take him away and twep him in the back garden."
"Not that I wouldn't like to," Bodie snapped, "but what I meant was, call Murph first. We're going to need some help."
Doyle nodded and moved back to Bodie's side, close enough to touch shoulders. He felt Epiphany's chilly hand against his neck, and rubbed his cheek slightly against it.
Slowly, he scrolled through the contact list, and hit the button for Murphy. For better or worse, CI5 was coming back into their lives.
Author: Verlaine
Slash or Gen: Slash
Archive at ProsLib/Circuit: Not yet, thank you.
Note: This is part of the Feast of Epiphany Series
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2020-01-07 12:40 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2020-01-07 10:32 pm (UTC)I have a couple of stories up at AO3
https://archiveofourown.org/series/37238
I've also got a bunch of ideas floating around that may someday be put together into a novel about Epiphany's mother and her pregnancy and who Epiphany's father is, and how Bodie and Doyle figure into it all.
no subject
Date: 2020-01-08 01:36 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2020-01-07 09:35 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2020-01-07 10:36 pm (UTC)Those school gates *are* real: a few years ago husby and I were walking in a London suburb and saw a whole flock of little girls in uniform lined up outside a school yard, and somehow that image stuck with me and I thought I had to get it into a Pros story someday.
no subject
Date: 2020-01-07 06:24 pm (UTC)Two of a kind, Doyle thought. God help us.
:-) love this scene quite a lot
And I am curious, why is CI5 in their life again.....
no subject
Date: 2020-01-07 10:38 pm (UTC)I've got several little snippets and bits and lots of ideas that I hope to someday built into a novel about Epiphany's mother and her pregnancy, and how she came into Bodie and Doyle's life. (TL;DR: Epiphany's mum was Bodie's teen-age second cousin, she died in childbirth and Bodie and Doyle took the baby in.)
no subject
Date: 2020-01-07 11:25 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2020-01-16 07:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2020-01-08 12:28 am (UTC)I look forward to your Epiphany stories - love the older lads.
Can't help feeling a bit for poor Doyle, though - two Bodies! ;-)
no subject
Date: 2020-01-16 07:25 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2020-01-08 05:51 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2020-01-16 07:24 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2020-01-09 09:55 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2020-01-16 07:24 pm (UTC)