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ubicaritas9 today! *g*
Demonstrating Doyle
by Ubicaritas
Traffic woes were a way of life in London. High-profile campaigns to get the denizens of the capital to use public transit notwithstanding, there was a determined core of drivers who occupied the main arteries and lesser roads with equal fervour. The inevitable roadworks, which this year had managed to snarl more routes than usual, were still in full swing even at this time of year. And completing the triumvirate on this typical late-December drear of a day, there was a protest, a demonstration in favour of and/or against some Terribly Important Cause. Traffic was, of course, at a complete standstill.
Ray Doyle sat in his car – his favourite gold Capri – and seethed. He’d progressed from irritation at the abrupt summons into headquarters from Control – he was supposed to have the day off, for Christ’s sake! – to frustration at the sluggish creep of vehicles which slowed his progress despite his extensive use of the now not-so-shortcuts and alternate routes that were ingrained, map-like, in his memory. But the blocking of streets with a jostling, perambulating mob, with placards held aloft and a ragged chant – what exactly were they saying, anyway? he couldn’t hear them properly yet, or even read their bloody signs – took things to a whole new level. The senselessness of this delay was enough to make him wish that it wasn’t in his job description to protect the rights and freedoms in this country that permitted them to protest in the first place…
He didn’t even have Bodie to keep him company. His lucky bastard of a partner had managed to get himself assigned to a babysitting job that included accompanying an apparently Very Important Person across the Channel to directly hand them over to the next poor sucker assigned to their personal security detail… followed by an overnight stay in Amsterdam before returning to London the next day. Right now, a full twenty-four hours away from Cowley’s clutches was something Doyle could only dream about, as he inched forward in the line of traffic approaching the demonstration. That, and how he’d like to tell these sign-waving, singing yobs exactly what they could do with their calls for justice… hang on, justice for what?!
The beep of the radio interrupted his thoughts, and he scrabbled around with his left hand, trying to find the mic or his R/T, both of which should have been immediately accessible on the seat beside him. At the same time, the small gap which had appeared in the flow of people at the intersection just ahead began to close up in front of him. A screech of brakes and the flash of a larger vehicle’s headlamps beside him had him reflexively closing his eyes for a moment. Ah well, at least they hadn’t gotten through either, or knocked into his motor or even more fortunately, one of the protesters, which would have left him as a witness and therefore even more tardy in his arrival at headquarters… but dammit, he’d been so close to getting through!
Doyle shook off a bit of residual fuzziness – most likely from the near miss, he figured – and bowled out of the car, abandoning his search for the R/T and ignoring the static blast from the radio. This driver was going to hear about the perils of impeding a CI5 agent on route to his destination! Rounding the front of the Capri, however, he was suddenly surrounded by a swirling crowd of demonstrators.
“Hey look, he’s come to join us! You’re really welcome here with us, man…!”
“Someone give him a sign, quick now! There’s cameras for the news just ahead!”
The voices surged around him, and a wooden stake with a placard was pushed into his hands. Doyle found himself pulled along with the momentum of the crowd, with strangers’ hands and elbows jostling his own into raising the sign he’d been given. He glanced up at it, and his eyes widened in disbelief. Were those… antlers? He looked around at the others, bobbing and waving in the air all around him, and sure enough, more than half of them contained pictures of elegant grey antlers. Other images included a cheerful, laden sleigh with a large X across it, and a sad-looking man in a red suit, behind unmistakeable gaol cell bars.
“Justice, justice!” The shout arose, travelling up and down the line of protesters as the bright light from the television cameras grew brighter in front of them. “We demand justice, justice for reindeer!”
What the hell…?
“It’s hell, man, total hell for the reindeer!” The first voice he’d heard was speaking again, close to Doyle’s ear. “Most people have no idea what reindeer go through at this time of year! Blokes trying to catch them and harness them to sleighs… from the beginning of the season, it just never ends! Justice, man! Justice for reindeer!”
The bellow the protester aimed at the reporters had Doyle shaking his head to clear his ringing ears. “You’re barking mad,” he said. “Justice for bloody reindeer? Justice…!” He dropped the sign and spun about, trying to see a way clear to get himself out of this insane crowd. The shouting continued, and he closed his eyes against the growing pain in his head that the noise was causing.
The radio was beeping again… but how could it be? He was down the road now, and hadn’t brought the R/T out of the car. The sound of the protest faded, became background noise along with the voice that was now coming from the radio. “Ray… come on, Ray, it’s time to wake up… dammit, you hear me, Doyle? Wake up! ”
“Justice,” he said again. “Reindeer needing justice…”
“You want justice, sunshine? I’ll give you justice, but first you have to wake up! ”
The radio sounded like Bodie… but it wasn’t the radio talking, Doyle realized, it really was Bodie, and the quiet beeping wasn’t the R/T, after all, but some kind of monitor, beside the bed he was lying in. He opened his eyes, blinking a couple of times to clear the haze. “Bodie…?”
“Right here, sunshine.” Bodie shifted the chair he was sitting on a little closer to the bed. “You with me now? Going to stay awake?”
Doyle nodded, then spent a brief moment regretting that decision. He gratefully accepted the cup of water Bodie offered, and the assistance in sitting up a bit more comfortably against the pillows. A quick check had revealed that all his limbs appeared to be in working order, although he felt stiff and sore, and ached all over.
“Can’t leave you alone for a minute.” Bodie settled back in the chair. “I’m away from London for less than less than twelve hours, and I get back to find you’ve been taking a very long nap! The nurses have been hovering… I think even your doctor was getting worried.”
“Got called in,” Doyle said. “I was stuck in traffic…” He hesitated, vague images of people blocking the road flickering at the edge of his memory. “There was a demonstration, I think. I had to stop…”
Bodie nodded. “That’s what was in the accident report,” he said. “You were broadsided by a lorry that tried to get through a break in the march, but you were in the way. Probably saved a few of them from having a very unpleasant Christmas indeed! Although,” he added. “Judging by what they were protesting, they may not have much Christmas spirit, ho ho ho…”
“Justice for bloody reindeer.” Doyle shook his head, only slightly regretting it this time. “I thought I must have imagined that part, but I saw their signs when they walked by. Even dreamt I was marching with them. Lot of loons, they were.”
“It takes all kinds.” Bodie stood and leaned in to press a quick kiss to Doyle’s forehead. “Now let me go find your doctor, and try to get you released into my tender care. All right?”
Doyle smiled and closed his eyes, and settled back against the pillows.
o0o
Title: Demonstrating Doyle
Author: ubicaritas
Slash or gen: slash
Archive at ProsLib: yes please!
Disclaimer: No reindeer were harmed in the writing of this story. Also, just playing with the lads and returning them safe and mostly sound, no infringement of the Pros sandbox is intended.
Notes: the idea came from a prompt I found online involving Santa Claus being held up on his way to work by a demonstration demanding 'justice for reindeer' ... dropping one of the lads into the mix seemed like a fun idea.
ubicaritas9 today! *g*by Ubicaritas
Traffic woes were a way of life in London. High-profile campaigns to get the denizens of the capital to use public transit notwithstanding, there was a determined core of drivers who occupied the main arteries and lesser roads with equal fervour. The inevitable roadworks, which this year had managed to snarl more routes than usual, were still in full swing even at this time of year. And completing the triumvirate on this typical late-December drear of a day, there was a protest, a demonstration in favour of and/or against some Terribly Important Cause. Traffic was, of course, at a complete standstill.
Ray Doyle sat in his car – his favourite gold Capri – and seethed. He’d progressed from irritation at the abrupt summons into headquarters from Control – he was supposed to have the day off, for Christ’s sake! – to frustration at the sluggish creep of vehicles which slowed his progress despite his extensive use of the now not-so-shortcuts and alternate routes that were ingrained, map-like, in his memory. But the blocking of streets with a jostling, perambulating mob, with placards held aloft and a ragged chant – what exactly were they saying, anyway? he couldn’t hear them properly yet, or even read their bloody signs – took things to a whole new level. The senselessness of this delay was enough to make him wish that it wasn’t in his job description to protect the rights and freedoms in this country that permitted them to protest in the first place…
He didn’t even have Bodie to keep him company. His lucky bastard of a partner had managed to get himself assigned to a babysitting job that included accompanying an apparently Very Important Person across the Channel to directly hand them over to the next poor sucker assigned to their personal security detail… followed by an overnight stay in Amsterdam before returning to London the next day. Right now, a full twenty-four hours away from Cowley’s clutches was something Doyle could only dream about, as he inched forward in the line of traffic approaching the demonstration. That, and how he’d like to tell these sign-waving, singing yobs exactly what they could do with their calls for justice… hang on, justice for what?!
The beep of the radio interrupted his thoughts, and he scrabbled around with his left hand, trying to find the mic or his R/T, both of which should have been immediately accessible on the seat beside him. At the same time, the small gap which had appeared in the flow of people at the intersection just ahead began to close up in front of him. A screech of brakes and the flash of a larger vehicle’s headlamps beside him had him reflexively closing his eyes for a moment. Ah well, at least they hadn’t gotten through either, or knocked into his motor or even more fortunately, one of the protesters, which would have left him as a witness and therefore even more tardy in his arrival at headquarters… but dammit, he’d been so close to getting through!
Doyle shook off a bit of residual fuzziness – most likely from the near miss, he figured – and bowled out of the car, abandoning his search for the R/T and ignoring the static blast from the radio. This driver was going to hear about the perils of impeding a CI5 agent on route to his destination! Rounding the front of the Capri, however, he was suddenly surrounded by a swirling crowd of demonstrators.
“Hey look, he’s come to join us! You’re really welcome here with us, man…!”
“Someone give him a sign, quick now! There’s cameras for the news just ahead!”
The voices surged around him, and a wooden stake with a placard was pushed into his hands. Doyle found himself pulled along with the momentum of the crowd, with strangers’ hands and elbows jostling his own into raising the sign he’d been given. He glanced up at it, and his eyes widened in disbelief. Were those… antlers? He looked around at the others, bobbing and waving in the air all around him, and sure enough, more than half of them contained pictures of elegant grey antlers. Other images included a cheerful, laden sleigh with a large X across it, and a sad-looking man in a red suit, behind unmistakeable gaol cell bars.
“Justice, justice!” The shout arose, travelling up and down the line of protesters as the bright light from the television cameras grew brighter in front of them. “We demand justice, justice for reindeer!”
What the hell…?
“It’s hell, man, total hell for the reindeer!” The first voice he’d heard was speaking again, close to Doyle’s ear. “Most people have no idea what reindeer go through at this time of year! Blokes trying to catch them and harness them to sleighs… from the beginning of the season, it just never ends! Justice, man! Justice for reindeer!”
The bellow the protester aimed at the reporters had Doyle shaking his head to clear his ringing ears. “You’re barking mad,” he said. “Justice for bloody reindeer? Justice…!” He dropped the sign and spun about, trying to see a way clear to get himself out of this insane crowd. The shouting continued, and he closed his eyes against the growing pain in his head that the noise was causing.
The radio was beeping again… but how could it be? He was down the road now, and hadn’t brought the R/T out of the car. The sound of the protest faded, became background noise along with the voice that was now coming from the radio. “Ray… come on, Ray, it’s time to wake up… dammit, you hear me, Doyle? Wake up! ”
“Justice,” he said again. “Reindeer needing justice…”
“You want justice, sunshine? I’ll give you justice, but first you have to wake up! ”
The radio sounded like Bodie… but it wasn’t the radio talking, Doyle realized, it really was Bodie, and the quiet beeping wasn’t the R/T, after all, but some kind of monitor, beside the bed he was lying in. He opened his eyes, blinking a couple of times to clear the haze. “Bodie…?”
“Right here, sunshine.” Bodie shifted the chair he was sitting on a little closer to the bed. “You with me now? Going to stay awake?”
Doyle nodded, then spent a brief moment regretting that decision. He gratefully accepted the cup of water Bodie offered, and the assistance in sitting up a bit more comfortably against the pillows. A quick check had revealed that all his limbs appeared to be in working order, although he felt stiff and sore, and ached all over.
“Can’t leave you alone for a minute.” Bodie settled back in the chair. “I’m away from London for less than less than twelve hours, and I get back to find you’ve been taking a very long nap! The nurses have been hovering… I think even your doctor was getting worried.”
“Got called in,” Doyle said. “I was stuck in traffic…” He hesitated, vague images of people blocking the road flickering at the edge of his memory. “There was a demonstration, I think. I had to stop…”
Bodie nodded. “That’s what was in the accident report,” he said. “You were broadsided by a lorry that tried to get through a break in the march, but you were in the way. Probably saved a few of them from having a very unpleasant Christmas indeed! Although,” he added. “Judging by what they were protesting, they may not have much Christmas spirit, ho ho ho…”
“Justice for bloody reindeer.” Doyle shook his head, only slightly regretting it this time. “I thought I must have imagined that part, but I saw their signs when they walked by. Even dreamt I was marching with them. Lot of loons, they were.”
“It takes all kinds.” Bodie stood and leaned in to press a quick kiss to Doyle’s forehead. “Now let me go find your doctor, and try to get you released into my tender care. All right?”
Doyle smiled and closed his eyes, and settled back against the pillows.
Title: Demonstrating Doyle
Author: ubicaritas
Slash or gen: slash
Archive at ProsLib: yes please!
Disclaimer: No reindeer were harmed in the writing of this story. Also, just playing with the lads and returning them safe and mostly sound, no infringement of the Pros sandbox is intended.
Notes: the idea came from a prompt I found online involving Santa Claus being held up on his way to work by a demonstration demanding 'justice for reindeer' ... dropping one of the lads into the mix seemed like a fun idea.
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Wonderful story
Date: 2023-12-28 08:41 pm (UTC)Really enjoyed this story. Thanks so much for posting. Those images when Doyle is caught in the traffic jam. Really great.
RE: Wonderful story
Date: 2023-12-29 02:32 pm (UTC)Thank you for reading! Re: the traffic jam, I just imagined my own commute from a couple of weeks ago when I got caught waiting for a protest march to go by... not about reindeer, though!
no subject
Date: 2023-12-29 05:29 pm (UTC)A beautiful story, exactly what I needed. Thank you :-)
no subject
Date: 2023-12-31 09:00 pm (UTC)Thank you! :)
no subject
Date: 2023-12-31 04:41 am (UTC)Aww, poor Doyle, hit by a lorry. Good thing Bodie made it back from Amsterdam to guide him away from his confusion.
no subject
Date: 2023-12-31 08:59 pm (UTC)Love me a slightly confused Doyle with Bodie to the rescue.
no subject
Date: 2023-12-31 06:40 pm (UTC)Thanks. That was fun. Reindeer justice. . . .ho ho ho
no subject
Date: 2023-12-31 08:54 pm (UTC)The funny part is, there probably _are_ people somewhere in the world who might hold such a protest...