discoveredinalj | Discovered in a Box of Baubles

So, my resolution for the new year is to make more room for fandom in my life. It's been a difficult year, hasn't it? Well, back in the day there was a difficult year (or eight months, really) for Bodie and Doyle. Read about it, if you will, in my entry for this year's celebration. I haven't written anything since last year's post, so my writing muscles were a bit creaky. But here it is!

And the Year was New Again
By PFL

Doyle pushed the button for Cowley’s flat. The winter night had fallen as he’d driven from HQ, but it was more than the cold and dark that caused him to shiver as he waited for Cowley’s response. Nerves. Even after all these years. Bodie would say— Automatically he cut the thought off. Except...he was almost free now, wasn’t he? Bodie would say acknowledge them and move on--or have a shag.

“Yes?”

“Doyle, sir, reporting as ordered.”

“Come.”

He found Cowley in his lounge, pouring scotch into two glasses. Doyle raised an eyebrow at the generous portion Cowley handed him. “Celebration or condolences?”

“That’s for you to determine, Doyle.” Cowley sat down in an arm chair, gestured towards the matching chair, but Doyle walked to the window. “You did pass the assessment.”

“Surprised you, did it, sir?” Doyle drank some of the scotch. He’d passed. Good. Bodie would just have to deal with that. He wasn’t going to make it any easier on Bodie than Bodie had made it for him. It was in Bodie’s court now. If the news had got out to him. If he was brave enough to come back.

“No. It surprised Jack Craine.” Cowley leaned back in his chair. “You and I are not unalike. Competitiveness drives you. Perhaps even more so when you are only competing against yourself.”

Doyle glanced out the window at the deserted lamp-lit street. “It’s true I had something to prove.”

“Aye. When you do leave the A Squad--the adrenaline rush--it will be difficult for you. But you’ll find, I believe, as I did, that there are compensations, and other jobs to fill the void.”

Doyle smiled a little. “You promised me action all those years ago.” He raised his glass in salute. “And you delivered. You turned me into a soldier.” Duty-bound, but already he could feel rebellion growing in him, so near as he was to freedom.

“I wouldn’t describe you as such.”

“Well, not like Bodie, perhaps.” Doyle drank some of the excellent scotch. “Why did you ask me here, sir?”

“That is why you will never be a true soldier, Doyle. You leap to question, to investigate. But then, that was what I was looking for when I formed CI5: teams combining soldier and cop. My ‘revolutionary’ idea that I drew from observation of all the other services. No one had thought to bring a balance of expertise to a two-man, mobile team. It made CI5 highly effective, as you know.”

“You make it sound easy.”

Cowley laughed. “No. Kate Ross thought I was insane to pair you and Bodie, despite your outstanding abilities in your own areas. But you shared two characteristics I was counting on: competitiveness and sheer, bloody-minded stubbornness. I knew you would work it out between you, eventually.”

You blew it. Again. Bodie’s voice echoed in Doyle’s mind. The rebuke had been all the more effective delivered as cold, clinical assessment. Doyle had felt eviscerated. He had learned that all of Barry Martin’s training, instruction, and scenarios wouldn’t make him a soldier in Bodie’s eyes, or make up for his lack of experience in a fire fight. “I nearly quit, you know,” he said now to Cowley.

“You don’t quit.” Cowley swirled the remaining liquid in his glass. “Do you remember? It was after the Jacobsen op that even Craine finally came to me to recommend we separate you two.”

“Because I was going to get Bodie killed.”

“Because Bodie was going to get you killed. He was...unwilling to adapt.”

“On that op, it was my mistake. We were lucky.”

“You two were sent back on a training course, if memory serves.”

Doyle let out laugh. “Yes. Bodie was not happy.”

“But you gave it another try.” Cowley tilted his head. “You wanted to prove Bodie wrong.”

He’d wanted to prove himself right; prove the trust he had in himself. Butting heads wasn’t going to do it, though. So, for the first time in his life, he’d chosen to yield to another. He’d bitten back his anger and humiliation. Teach me, then, he’d said to Bodie. Teach me how best to watch your back. But remember it’s a two way street, sunshine. We’ll learn together--or not at all. “We came to an agreement.”

“And you both improved. You became my best team. Proof that I had been right.” Cowley paused for a moment. “Now it’s time to prove a new concept. I asked you here because I have a proposition for you.”

“Official?”

“Yes, and no.”

Oh, that’s clear, then. As always, he missed the look he and Bodie would have shared. “Care to explain?”

Cowley sipped from his glass, his eyes on Doyle. “I am sure you have heard the rumours: CI5’s days are numbered; Cowley’s retirement is imminent.”

“Oh, I never listen to gossip, sir.”

“I started the rumours myself.”

“Of course you did. Leverage?”

“Manoeuvres.”

“Towards what end?”

Cowley set his empty glass down on the table beside him. “The future of security lies in data analysis. Computers will play an ever greater role. Yes, there will always be the need for a physical force but that may adequately be supplied by the other services. CI5, if all goes well, will transition to an analysis and security hub for all of the services.

“MI6, MI5, the Met--they all have their own analysis units.”

“Not like this one. You might as well point out they all had operatives when CI5 was formed. We became the centre of a matrix of all the services. We were smaller, more nimble, and more powerful, with fewer checks, so that we were able to handle the cases that were too difficult or fell between departments. In this new configuration, the other agencies will continue their own information gathering and analysis, but we will be at the heart of it, with our unique insights and experience. We will control and direct the information flow. I want you to be part of this vision. I am offering you not only employment, but continued relevance.”

“I’m surprised we haven’t all heard a collective gasp of shock from Whitehall. This doesn’t sound like George Cowley.”

A thin smile appeared on Cowley’s face. “There was some surprise, yes. But I learned long ago that the ability to change is the key to survival. You’ve understood that from the start.”

“When will this happen?”

“Very soon.”

“You’re telling me I need not have passed that bloody assessment, aren’t you?”

“I doubt your knowledge of that would have made a difference in your performance.”

“How long have you been working on this?”

“A long time. In earnest, about a year.”

It felt like a punch to the gut, but Doyle kept all expression from his face. “Bodie’s not part of this.”

“Bodie’s gone.”

“He wasn’t a year ago.”

“No.” After a moment, Cowley’s eyes dropped, his mouth tightened before he sighed. “Very well, the truth, then. Bodie’s skills, while they were extraordinary, were not suitable. He was the soldier you never were.”

“Past tense.”

“His injury--“

“Kept him off the Squad; it wouldn’t have mattered for this. You encouraged him to leave, after sending him on a solo mission a little less than a year ago.”

Cowley breathed in. “He was the best man for that mission. Do you really think I wanted him to be injured or off the Squad?”

“No,” Doyle admitted, reluctantly. He looked away. Of course they were expendable in Cowley’s mind, but only in the sense of mission requirements. The op might have cost CI5 its best agent, but if Bodie had failed, it would have cost England far more. The personal cost, though... He had hated the wait for news on the op, and then in the hospital. It had been difficult witnessing Bodie’s realisation he’d not make it back to the Squad. But worst of all had been Bodie’s insistence Doyle stay in CI5. Bodie’s unwillingness to believe Doyle knew his own mind. Bodie’s lack of faith in their ability to be together outside of CI5. In the end, he’d promised to wait a year. And then Bodie had disappeared.

“If I had offered this to him--an idea that was just solidifying, I might add--he would have refused. Do you honestly believe Bodie, of all people, would adapt to a desk job?”

“You’re asking it of me.”

“Because investigation is your area of expertise. That restless mind of yours that always asks another question.”

Doyle glanced out the window. Where the fuck are you, Bodie? “You underestimate him.”

“You became something of a soldier. Bodie never became anything like a cop.”

“Well.” Doyle walked forward to set his glass down on the table. “I’m resigning. You should receive my letter in the morning.”

The shock on Cowley’s face was a sort of balm to Doyle’s nerves. He always felt better in the midst of a fire fight than before it.

“Don’t be hasty, Doyle.” Cowley, unsurprisingly, recovered quickly. “Take some time to think about it. You’ve worked well with Jackson, brought him up to speed. There’s no harm in--“

“No. I’m done. Free. Duty completed.” He headed towards the door.

“I don’t understand.”

Doyle shrugged into the jacket he’d left on the back of Cowley’s sofa. “You should. You made us into a team. The Bisto Kids. Where one goes, the other follows.”

Cowley frowned. “You’re talking about Bodie? But you and Jackson--“

“I need Bodie.”

“It’s been eight months!”

“It could be two years, or a day, it doesn’t matter. We work best together. That’s what eight months has proved.”

Cowley sighed. “He won’t go for it, Doyle. This new venture won’t suit him. I don’t even know where to find him--he’s slipped surveillance.”

“Consider it a challenge, sir. Or let us go. Cut your losses.” He walked to the door of the flat. To his surprise, Cowley followed him.

“Don’t be a fool, Doyle. You’re going to find Bodie? To what end?”

“Can’t break up the team, sir.”

“It’s already broken. You stayed when he left, why--?”

Doyle turned back in the doorway. “Because he’s a soldier. Do you know, sir, I am bloody tired of soldier mentality--honour this, duty that. It’s over. I’ll find him. As you’ve said, I’ve got a talent for investigation.”

“But--”

“I’m going to remind him: he’s my partner.”

Cowley’s eyes narrowed.

“That’s right. Every conceivable meaning of that word.” In escape or retreat, burn your bridges, the Bodie-in-his-head said. Doyle nodded at the distaste that flashed across Cowley’s face. “Yeah, match made by George Cowley. I was, as you said, highly adaptable, sir. And you underestimated Bodie.” He walked out on those words, let the door close behind him and breathed in deeply. It felt like the first breath he’d taken in eight months.

All right. No more soldiers. No more waiting. They’d given Bodie’s preferences a try. Now it was his turn. He walked down the steps to the pavement. He knew where he’d start looking. He had all the time--

“Employed or unemployed, that’s the question.” The voice came out of the darkness of a shadow by the stairs.

Doyle stood still, closed his eyes and lowered his head. “You bloody bastard.” He opened his eyes to see Bodie, all in black, walking towards him. “What the hell did you think--“

His voice was cut off as Bodie put his hands on either side of Doyle’s head and kissed him.

“Well,” Doyle said, when Bodie broke the kiss, “definitely ‘unemployed’ after that demonstration.” He glanced up at Cowley’s window to see a curtain closing.

“Ah.”

“Don’t ‘ah’ me.” Doyle started walking, and Bodie fell in beside him. “Cutting off my options, were you? I’ll have you know I passed.”

“Passed what?”

“My assessment, you pillock. Could have been gainfully employed for years and years.”

“Overrated. I’ve been enjoying not being shot at, myself.” Bodie switched to his posh voice.

“Pull the other one, mate. Where the bloody hell have you been?” He walked faster; Bodie kept up.

“Around.”

“Could have used you a week ago when I was shot at.”

“Eh, you weren’t even grazed.”

Doyle stopped walking and turned to glare at Bodie. “Who’s your informant? Murphy?”

Bodie ignored that. “I heard a rumour--“

“He’s not retiring. CI5 is not going to be disbanded.” Doyle walked on, leaving Bodie behind.

Bodie caught up to him. “Not?”

Doyle turned on him. “Get this straight: I have done my fucking duty. I stayed in CI5, as you demanded, bloody miserable, missing my right arm--as bloody stupid as he is--and I’m done. I quit.”

“You never quit.”

“I could stay.” He jabbed a finger in the direction of Cowley’s flat. “He’s turning CI5 into an analysis and intelligence unit. He’s offered me a job. Probably the best job I could ever find. One I’m very well qualified for. He says you’d hate and I’d love it, and he’s wrong on both counts, but only because you walked out eight months ago. So, tell me, Bodie. Why are you here?”

Bodie stared at him, his face half in shadow. “I didn’t know how to be a civilian. I still don’t. I’ve been ‘around’ and nowhere. I need... I need someone to teach me how to...to live in that world.”

Doyle just looked at him.

Bodie closed his eyes. “Bloody hell.” He opened his eyes and put both hands on Doyle’s shoulders. “I was wrong, okay? All I could see was what I was losing, and I thought—” Bodie swallowed. “If we can’t survive out there, if I were to lose you as well.”

“Since when are you afraid?”

“All the time, mate.” Bodie’s voice was low. “A soldier’s life is all I’ve known. I couldn’t see a future. Couldn’t see you preferring that to--”

“You--stupid--bloody--when are you going to believe--”

Bodie kissed him, ferociously, and Doyle met that need with his own. Finally, he pulled away, but kept a hard grip on Bodie’s arm. “You couldn’t even last the full year.” He let the satisfaction show in his voice.

“Well.” Bodie coughed. “I didn’t exactly intend--“

“Believe me, I would have found you.”

Bodie looked at him. “Yeah, okay.” He flexed his fingers on Doyle’s shoulders.

“Have you missed it?”

“Missed you. Don’t think I can do this ‘normal’ world without you, Ray.”

“That’s all right, then. We’ll do what we do best: learn together how to live out there.”

Bodie released him, nodded. “Trust each other.”

“Absolutely. After you tell me who was snitching on me--”

“You can’t go back and kill them, so what’s the point? Where’s your car, anyway?”

“Back at Cowley’s, where do you think?”

Bodie sighed, grabbed Doyle’s arm and steered him back the way they’d come.

“Haven’t you got your own motor?”

“Bloody expensive, mate.”

“And easy to trace. Cowley said he’d lost track of you.”

“Yeah?” Bodie sounded pleased. “ At least we know we can disappear if we want.”

“Or maybe he should have asked Liz.”

“Give it up, Doyle. I’m not spilling the beans.”

“Have you really not been shot at?”

“Not even once.” Bodie paused, then added: “Perhaps Cowley will take us back...”

Doyle crowed. “Knew you’d miss it. But...not a chance. I burned my bridges. Told him about us.”

“What? I taught you to always keep at least a secret path back!”

“I was escaping!”

Bodie was silent.

Doyle sighed. “Okay. I got mad. He said you weren’t suitable for the new CI5.”

Bodie slung an arm around Doyle’s shoulders. “Kept my talents too hidden, eh?”

“Yes, and he hasn’t given me any credit for teaching you. It’s bloody annoying. ” They reached the car. Doyle unlocked the doors, then looked across the roof at Bodie. “He might come back to us. He’s dead set on this venture.”

Bodie shrugged. “Wouldn’t hurt to hear him out. At least he’d know about us now. No secrets.”

Doyle smiled and climbed into the car. He’d been celebrating his freedom, but as long as Bodie was beside him, he could live in Cowley’s world. Or out of it. “Secrets,” he mused as he started the car. “Anson’s good at keeping secrets. Bodie...?”

The End
January 2, 2021

Title: And the Year was New Again
Author: PFL
Slash or Gen: Slash
Archive at ProsLib/Circuit: Yep (will send file!)
Disclaimer: Following a lengthy tradition