discoveredinalj | Day 22 Discovered in Wrapping Paper - story

A Time for Giving
CI5 Thaumaturgy AU
by krisser

Bodie followed his partner through the travel gate into their laundry room. He leaned his back against the closed door with a dramatic sigh. “Phew, let’s do the thaumaturgic equivalent of taking the phone off the hook now.”

Doyle laughed as he leaned his back against the door as well pushing as though he, too, was trying to keep the hordes out, or at least one Mr Cowley. They had some well-deserved down time due and they didn’t have to report until after the New Year.

“You know what today is?” Bodie asked as he headed for the stairs.

“The day you finally take a shower?” Doyle guessed as he pushed his mate up the stairs faster.

“No, I mean yes, I’m taking a shower, but no, today is the day before the night before Christmas,” Bodie said over his shoulder.

“Glad to hear that you plan a shower . . .just saying, mate.” Doyle held up his hands. “Didn’t know you were holidayish, this being our first one together. Nice knowing that,” he added.

“Haven’t been in recent years, but this year feels different.” Bodie turned and smiled before he caught Doyle close for a kiss. “It would be nice to have the place done up for Christmas. Now, you’re coming in the shower as well . . . notice I’m not downwind of you.” Bodie pushed an unresisting Doyle in their bedroom as he waved their clothes away. They stepped into the shower together.

They both took great pains to make sure that the other was especially clean. A deep and thorough tongue inspection followed. The cascading water washed away evidence of any overachieving that may have occurred.

Sated, clean and tired, Bodie headed straight for the bed.

Doyle towel-dried his hair as he crossed the threshold into the bedroom. His breath caught in his throat as he looked at a naked, sleeping Bodie in a slightly spread-eagle pose. Life was so different than he had ever imagined. He lowered himself beside his partner and opted for a short kip as well.

Bodie’s stomach rumbled even in his sleep, but it was enough to propel Doyle awake and up to get a meal going. “Breakfast for supper,” he said to his partner’s back.

“Love it,” though muffled into the pillow was clear enough to be understood.

Doyle chuckled as he finished dressing.

“Oh, Bo – die,” Doyle sing-songed from the bottom of the stairs.
Bodie popped his head over the railing. “What now?”

“You did express a desire for Christmas decorations, didn’t you?”

Bodie remembered his wistful musing. “Yeah, I might have.” He smiled as he rushed down the stairs.

The sitting room glowed even before he was close enough to peek inside. Bodie stopped just outside the room next to Doyle, who leaned against the doorframe grinning like a kid. He pointed to the mantel.

Bodie answered with a smile as he took in the entire sitting room. A magnificent pine tree stood between the window and the fireplace. It glowed. No fairy lights, per se, but the tips of the branches glowed on their own, blinking like fireflies. The tree beckoned him over, but Doyle’s grin and continued gestures focused his gaze over to the mantel, where his childhood stocking hung next to another well-worn stocking labelled Ray.

“Look, Christmas stockings, already bulging.”

Bodie shook his head. “You must wait till Christmas.” He shook his finger at Doyle, then rubbed his hands together in anticipation.

“Come on, Christmas Eve is tomorrow. It’s just a wee bit early,” Doyle cajoled unrepentantly.

"No, we can both wait – it’s special, this Christmas." Bodie’s voice softened, "Our first one."

"Oh, all right." Doyle gave a nod of agreement.

Bodie caught a spot of motion on the tree and stepped closer. The ornaments seemed to be moving. He shook his head and checked again. Definite movement. He leaned in close and his jaw dropped.

"Ray?" Bodie’s voice fell to a whisper. "That's me and Gram when I was five." He pointed to the moving ornament that was a hologram of that Christmas morning, just as he remembered it. He looked at the other moving ornaments and saw the different Christmas Eves and Christmas morns with his gram. He blinked his eyes several times.

Doyle stepped up next to Bodie, placed his hand on his shoulder and squeezed gently. He peered closely at the repeating scene. It was extremely similar to his talent. He took a few steps back and looked at the tree as a whole and noticed a folded note with his name penned hanging at the top.

Dear Ray –

I'm truly glad you found each other. This tree has room for your childhood keepsakes and for the new memories you forge together. A grimoire will appear if you have not frozen a memory in this way before. Take care of him.

Gwen

Doyle handed the note to his partner as he looked to the bookshelf. Sure enough, an illustrated title stood away from the rest. He silently promised that the tree would have many new memory captures.

Bodie called Doyle out of his reverie. "Come, look. This one must be from Gram's childhood. The night clothes look right out of The Great Gatsby."

Together, they looked at each of the memory ornaments. Bodie found one for each holiday he had spent with his gram. He knew he would always look forward to Christmas from this point on.

"Ray, look." Bodie pointed to the window that looked out front. "I don't remember that." He walked over to the window and fingered the decorated shelf that ran along the length.

"I think the entire shelf is new," Doyle added.

"So, it must appear as part of the Christmas themed decorations. Wow." Bodie picked up a book with a jewelled cover. Dead centre was a stone bird in flight. "A Time for Giving," he read the engraving aloud.

"Bodie, wait!" Doyle jumped to intercept and stop Bodie from opening the cover but he touched the stone at the same time as Bodie finished the action.

A fog enveloped them, as the sitting room seemed to disappear. It swirled all about them, obstructing their view completely. It felt very much like a gate tunnel to Bodie. The fog disappeared as fast as it appeared, but they weren't in the sitting room anymore.

Bodie looked about without moving, and for once, his partner stayed mum as he, too, surveyed their surroundings.

It was an office, but not really. No walls or actual building around them, but they weren't outside either.

"Oh good, you've come," a voice said but they had yet to see anyone. "It had been Gwen for a very long time, but alas, not so now, and it will be a long while before she can again. You must be kin?" The voice seemed to be moving closer as a swirling cloud hovered.

They stood their ground, more out of confusion than curiosity or safety.

"You spoke the words. A time for giving. A summoning for duty. Each year on the day before the night before Christmas we are able to ask a deed from the living. Gwen has answered these past four decades. Welcome, Bodie and Doyle."

Ray Doyle startled just enough for Bodie to feel it. Hearing their names had been unexpected. The breathy voice made it seem all the more otherworldly and odd.

"This year it's Abigail's turn to ask the deed."

Bodie blinked owlishly several times before nodding his head.

A different voice made them turn around. "You can't change my fate, but the lives of my family can be greatly enhanced. My special key was buried with me, around my neck. It can open the trunk that is below the floorboards of our cellar. No one knew I penned children's books except my husband. My husband finding my last unpublished story would be to their betterment. Please help." Abigail's essence faded.

"What are we to do?" Doyle asked.

The first voice returned and surrounded them. "You are unprepared? You are an accident?" The voice was disdainful. "Are you men pure of heart to do an unselfish deed or are you frivolous men?"

"We may not know how this works but we would be glad to aid Abigail. We just don't know what to do," Bodie stated clearly and sincerely.

The voice's intensity mellowed as it settled in gently around them. "With the stone with you at all times, you step through the arch into the proper time. When the task is complete you will return here to portal home until the next year."

"All right, where is here and Abigail who?" Doyle asked.

"Frost." The voice faded as a stone arch appeared. "Abigail Frost." The office impression faded away to be replaced by a square stone arch that stood eight feet high.

"Well, one out of two, not so bad," Doyle remarked aloud.

Bodie looked at the stone in his hand then to Doyle. "I'm quite sure that this is a joint venture."

"Of course, like most things in our lives." Doyle bobbed his head a bit. Not really what he expected on their time off, but they were together and Cowley was nowhere to be found. "Lead on, Macduff." Doyle waved his hand forward and followed Bodie to the arch.

They couldn't see through it, but they couldn't see around it either. The fog was so dense, all they could see was the arch itself.

The stone clasped between their entangled fingers, they stepped through the arch. They groped their way through more fog until they found walls in what now became an alley. They followed them until they emerged into a fogless, late afternoon London -- not their London but a Dickensian London to be sure.

A horse-drawn hansom cab clip-clopped by, the driver perched above the cab wrapped in a great-coat with his bowler hat pulled down low over his ears. Down the street, a laughing group of children played football.

Bodie looked at Doyle then himself to see that their clothes had transformed as well as the time period. Doyle was clad in navy blue great-coat, slim wool trousers and boots showing below. A silk top hat sat upon his curls. Bodie was similarly dressed in black.

"The closest cemetery is Highgate. It should be rather new but it was here," Bodie said as he looked about and got his bearings. "We'd better hurry. They'll want her in the ground soon."

"If we don't, we could end up grave robbers," Doyle quipped as he followed Bodie who seemed to have some idea of where they were going.

They made their way with great haste to the Highgate Cemetery.

Bodie pointed to the small procession. "I remember reading that folks really liked to get their loved ones underground before dusk. Before the spirits rise, superstitious lot." Bodie explained his beeline for the funeral in progress.

He'd guessed right. The casket was just being readied for lowering.

Bodie rushed in. "Mr Frost, I am sorry for your loss. I am Clare's brother. My sister was a dear friend to Abigail, but is indisposed and unable to come. She pleaded with me to come to remind you that the key about her neck is for you." Bodie moved closer and lowered his voice for Mr Frost's ears alone. "My sister said that it's for the chest under the floorboards."

The bereaved man sagged in what seemed like relief. He straightened immediately and stepped over to the gravediggers alongside the casket. The men backed away. Mr Frost opened the lid and reached inside to gently remove the key from his wife's neck. His lips moved as if in silent prayer. He closed the lid and signed to the gravediggers to carry on. They started to lower the casket immediately.

Mr Frost looked to Bodie and nodded emphatically. "Thank Clare. Thank you."

Bodie and Doyle both nodded in return. They remained still until the living started to throw dirt on top of the casket. They turned away to retrace their way back to the arch.

"Let's hope that odd alley is as easy to find as promised," Doyle lamented.

They neared the edge of the cemetery when thick fog rolled in, but before they could comment on it the stone arch appeared out of nowhere. They didn't hesitate, holding the stone between their entwined hands. They stepped through the arch and were once again in their own time as the gateway in their laundry room materialised. They stepped through with alacrity.

"Let's put the stone back in the book and back on the shelf." Bodie pulled the stone from his pocket and didn't hesitate to match actions with words. He placed it under the engraving A Time for Giving. The book disappeared, as if it had never been.

"I bet it returns next year," Doyle commented as he looked from Bodie to the space above the window and back to Bodie.

"I'm sure you're right. Seems I keep finding out new things about this gift I inherited, though this one does seem to be a joint venture." Bodie cocked his head to the side. "I find I really quite enjoy that concept." His smile was lopsided but joyful.

"Come on, let's pretend it's Christmas Eve. I'll get a meal on, then we can discover what's in those stockings . . ." Doyle gave Bodie a loving smile.

Bodie's stomach rumbled in agreement.

Fin

Title: A Time for Giving
Author: krisser
Slash or Gen: Slash
Archive at ProsLib/Circuit: Yes please
Notes: Many thanks to my betas

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That was a good adventure! We had lots of great things, sex in the shower, lads together doing magic, and a mystery to solve. Thank you! A wonderful read.