New Story: Images False and True by PFL
Oct. 16th, 2007 10:17 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
msmoat.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
discoveredinaljSo, I wasn't going to participate in the Discovered in the Anarchist Cookbook challenge because, well, my time is not my own right now! But...I got to thinking about the concept of Punk Rock, and images, and...this is what happened. The connection with punk rock might be somewhat...tenuous but it is there. At least in my mind. *g*
Images False and True by PFL
“Talk to me, you bastard!”
Doyle absorbed the blow, no longer struggling against the tape that bound his hands. Bettis’ frustration was tangible. He wouldn’t be surprised if Bettis lost it soon and killed him. Doyle could think about it now from a distance. He had retreated to the ice at his core.
“Do you want to end up like her, Doyle?” Bettis grabbed him by his hair and wrenched his head up. “Do you? Look at her!”
He didn’t have to. He remembered with perfect clarity what Lisa looked like. They’d allowed her to bleed out. There were worse ways to die.
“Tell us where you put the drugs. Tell us!” There was a pause and then Doyle felt the chill of a handgun’s barrel pressed to his temple. “It’d be so easy.”
Bettis was an amateur. He should have killed him within the first half hour. Staying in the warehouse increased the risk of discovery. There wasn’t time for Bettis to break him. He wondered when Bettis would get that idea through his thick head. If it took long enough, Bodie might find them. Doyle reckoned he’d be killed when CI5 arrived, but at least Bettis and his gang would be stopped. Lisa would have some justice. That thought brought a smile.
“You think I’m joking?” Bettis slapped him, and Doyle would have fallen from the chair if Hartz hadn’t grabbed him. He couldn’t suppress a gasp as Hartz shoved him back into the chair. He must have a cracked rib, maybe worse. The only defence he had was the cold control that kept him from speaking. It was frighteningly easy to not care. It was familiar.
“Or maybe I’ll shoot your kneecap out.”
The man had watched too many films. What was the point of that threat? It made him irritable.
Donnor spoke up from behind Bettis. “So cut him in on the deal. A small percent.” Doyle glanced at Donnor with something akin to interest. Donnor was older than the others, and he’d kept his head when they’d realised the drugs were gone.
“Are you insane?” Bettis stood straight, glaring at Doyle, his hand tight on the gun.
“What good does it do us if you kill him before we find the drugs?” Donnor turned to Doyle. “What about it, eh?”
Doyle looked at them, alternatives flitting through his mind. “What makes you think I’m on your side of the law?” He saw the shock that swept through the three of them and nearly laughed.
“You’re lying,” Bettis said, but there was doubt in his tone.
“Right. We cut our losses and get out of here.” Donnor put a hand on Bettis’ arm.
“No!”
“For Chrissake—”
Bettis leaned in to Doyle. “You’re a fucking copper?”
Doyle met his eyes and hid none of the malice he felt. This time Bettis hit him with the gun, and no one kept him from falling to the floor.
“Where’re my drugs?” Bettis snarled the words.
Doyle spat blood.
“You bastard. Where—”
He was interrupted by a shout from outside the office. All three of the men turned as a fourth man came skidding through the doorway. It was the punk kid—Gary, Doyle thought his name was.
Bettis took a step towards the door. “What the fuck’s—”
“Harry’s down.” Gary sounded frightened. None of them had guns except for Bettis. “And Kelly isn’t answering.”
Bettis swung back to Doyle.
“CI5,” Doyle said, and watched as the words struck home.
Bettis took a step towards Doyle, his face twisting, but Donnor stopped him. “Kill him and let’s get out of here. Now!”
“No.” Bettis walked over to Doyle and hauled him to his feet. He towed Doyle to the doorway, jammed the gun into his neck, and shouted out into the warehouse: “I’ve got this fucking bastard here! Doyle, the bitch said his name was. Show yourselves or he buys it. Now!”
“That’s not going to—” Doyle choked as Bettis pressed the gun harder into his neck.
“Do you fucking hear me?” Bettis shouted the words.
“All right.” It was Bodie’s voice.
The warehouse was lit by security lights only—pools of brightness in an otherwise dark space. Bodie slowly emerged into the light just beyond the office doorway. He was dressed in black, a gun in one gloved hand. His face was pale by contrast, and expressionless.
“Who else is here?” Bettis demanded.
“Give it up.” Bodie’s voice was cool. “We’re CI5, mate.”
“No sirens,” Donnor said. “CI5 work in pairs. Maybe he’s Doyle’s?”
Bettis narrowed his eyes. “Yeah, they’d’ve hit us already if there were more. Hartz, get his gun.” Hartz moved forward and took Bodie’s automatic. “Check out the warehouse.” Hartz hesitated only a moment, then disappeared into the darkness.
They all stood still, waiting. Doyle looked at Bodie and knew he’d come alone. The question was whether he’d called for backup before going in.
Hartz’s voice carried to them: “All clear, so far. No one out front!”
Bettis looked at Gary. “Bring him into the office.” Donnor went ahead of them as Bettis dragged Doyle backwards with him. Bodie followed them through the doorway, with Gary behind him. Gary had a knife in his hand. Bodie’s eyes were fastened on Bettis.
“One more time, Doyle,” Bettis said. “Where are my drugs?”
“In the river.”
“No one would throw that much money away. No one.”
“I would.” Doyle smiled.
“Me too,” Bodie said.
“Shut up!” Bettis turned the gun towards Bodie, and Doyle shoved his shoulder into him, hoping to push him off-balance. Bodie was next to Gary. If Bodie could grab the knife—
A shot rang out, and Doyle caught a glimpse of Hartz in the doorway, with Bodie’s gun in his hand. Fear stabbed through him, like a hot poker. Bodie. He cried out as Bettis pounded a fist into his ribs, and then his kidney. Doyle fell to the floor, a great roaring in his ears, pain lancing through him. For a moment it was all he could do to breathe.
He had to get back to the fight, but his fucking hands were still bound behind his back. He rolled and raised his head. He saw Bodie grappling with Hartz, landing a vicious blow to the man’s neck. Donnor was edging around to Bodie’s unprotected back, but Doyle was more concerned about Bettis and the gun. Bettis was aiming at the group, waiting for an opening. Doyle pushed himself towards Bettis, hoping he could trip him, anything.... Bettis fired—but it was Hartz who fell to the ground, struck in the back by the bullet as Bodie held him. Bettis yelled and Donnor jumped Bodie from behind. The roaring was still there—Doyle suddenly realised it was coming from Bodie. Donnor went down, and Bodie rushed Bettis even as the man fired again. Bodie never slowed, although Doyle saw the bullet strike, and within seconds it was over—Bettis dead on the floor, his neck broken.
Bodie’s eyes swept the room as he turned in a tight circle. Doyle stayed still, knowing that Bodie wouldn’t recognise him at that moment. Berserker rage. He’d never witnessed it before, but there was no mistaking it. Bodie was lost to everything except the need to kill. Blood spread from the wound in Bodie’s right shoulder, but Doyle doubted he felt it. Maybe it was a sign of returning control that he was quiet now, but his expression was fierce and his stance aggressive. Words floated through Doyle’s brain—Bodie’s voice from long ago: That's the main thing, staying cool. No wonder.
A noise broke the silence, and Doyle saw Gary struggling to get to his feet, the knife back in his hands. Bodie pounced on him.
“Bodie!” Doyle jerked himself to his knees, hampered by his bound hands, and gasped as his ribs protested the movement.
Bodie stopped. One of his hands was tight on Gary’s arm, the other now held Gary’s knife, and he was poised to strike.
“Let him go.” He could hear sirens in the distance, but the only sound in the office was Gary’s panicked breathing. “It’s done.” Doyle kept his voice quiet. After a moment, Bodie released Gary and stepped back.
Bodie turned his head and Doyle met his eyes, withstanding the heat of the rage he saw there. Bodie didn’t move, even when Gary scuttled through the doorway. Gary wouldn’t get far, and they had more important things to deal with here.
He glanced at the carnage around them, then back at Bodie. The rage was dissipating, and in its place was...fear? Something twisted tight in Doyle’s gut—a feeling as unexpectedly sharp as his own fear for Bodie had been. He caught his breath in sudden realisation. An instant later, Bodie blinked, and the look was gone. His face was expressionless again—the emotion sealed over. Keep it cool, always cool, and in control. Except when he wasn’t.
Mercenary. Killer. How many times had he dug at Bodie with those words? Trying to break through Bodie’s control just for the challenge of it? Only now did he understand the fire he’d played with; what it was that Bodie hid behind the self-discipline. But then, they all had secrets, didn’t they?
After a brief hesitation, Bodie moved to Hartz’s body, picked up and holstered his gun, then walked to Doyle. He slid the knife through the tape around Doyle’s hands and helped him to his feet. Doyle winced as the blood flowed freely through his arms and hands again.
“Are you all right?” Bodie’s voice was as colourless as his face.
“No.” Bodie’s hand tightened on his arm. “But I’ll heal. How’s your shoulder?”
Bodie looked surprised for a moment, then he looked down at the wound. He released Doyle. “Oh.”
“The hospital for both of us, eh?”
“It looks like it.” Bodie examined his wound. “I’ll live.”
“Lisa won’t.” Doyle gestured to the far corner of the office as Bodie looked up. “Killed in the line of duty, they’ll say.” They’d put a notation on her record before they closed it. He couldn’t muster any outrage over the needlessness of her death. He should be feeling more, shouldn’t he? It was too easy to stay distant.
“Not your fault.”
And Doyle smiled at the image Bodie had of him. The guilt would come later.
Bodie turned away, and Doyle could almost see the cloak of cool efficiency he pulled around himself. “The lads must be here—or soon will be. Cowley will probably be with them.” Doyle saw that Bodie’s gaze stayed above floor level as he glanced around. He should follow Bodie’s lead, he knew. Let him rebuild his image. Pretend he’d never witnessed all that Bodie wanted to hide. Could they so easily slip back to normalcy? Did he want that?
“Bodie.” He put his hand on Bodie’s arm. Bodie swung around, and one of his hands clamped on Doyle’s shoulder. Doyle caught a glimpse of Bodie’s eyes—saw the control slip—and then Bodie’s mouth covered his.
Shock kept Doyle still for a moment, then he put his hands on Bodie’s back and opened his mouth to Bodie’s tongue. Heat seared him, coiling through his veins and arteries and burning out every reserve he had. He didn’t give a fuck about anything—except to meet Bodie’s need, Bodie’s urgency, Bodie’s fears. He knew what had broken Bodie’s control at last, and why he’d stopped when Doyle had called to him.
Every inch of Doyle blazed with the light that Bodie sparked in him, and he marvelled at it.
Too soon, Bodie pulled back, breaking the kiss. “Ray.” He seemed dazed, but his eyes were clear, and his hand gripped Doyle’s shoulder hard enough to bruise.
They needed time, but— “The lads will be here any moment. Later, eh?”
The blank expression that slid across Bodie’s face hit Doyle like a punch to the gut. He nearly smiled in his amazement, but Bodie’s need took precedence. He put his hand on the back of Bodie’s neck, bracing him. “It’s all right. You’re safe.”
Bodie stared at him, and Doyle saw wariness in his eyes.
He slid his thumb over Bodie’s skin. “I want you. All of you.”
“But...”
“We all make choices, mate. Every fucking day. To be what we are, or to make us what we want to be. You and me both.” He felt the tension in Bodie’s neck. “I know why you lost it.” His hand tightened as Bodie tried to pull away. “Listen to me! I know. And it’s okay. You’re not alone.” He hesitated a moment. “If you want me.”
“You bloody well know I do.” Bodie’s voice was a fierce whisper.
Doyle took in a breath. They had to be equal in this. “You’re the only one who can hurt me, Bodie. The only fucking one. Do you understand?”
Bodie’s eyes flickered, and then his hand came up and he put his fingers on Doyle’s cheek. “Are you sure about this?”
Doyle let out a quick laugh. “Yeah.” But his smile faded as he looked at Bodie. Doyle wasn’t the only one who could be hurt. “I’m not what you think—”
Bodie kissed him. A quick but firm kiss. “You are. You just don’t know it.”
“Bodie—”
“You choose it, sunshine. Just like me. Every day.”
Doyle stared at him.
Bodie pushed him gently but inexorably towards the door. “Come on, that’s the lads out there.” And, indeed, it was apparent that CI5 had finally arrived.
Doyle narrowed his eyes. “We shall have a talk later.”
“Is that what you think?” They went through the doorway and into the warehouse, moving slowly.
“That’s what I know.”
“Ah, but it’s a day for surprises, isn’t it?”
He sounded happy. Doyle stopped and glared at him.
Bodie grinned. “First we’ll report to Cowley, then we’ll go to hospital, then we’ll go home, then we’ll go to bed. Then we’ll talk, eh?”
“Optimist. You’ve got a bullet wound and I’ve got a cracked rib.”
“We’ll improvise.”
There was, perhaps, a proper time and place to try to break through Bodie’s cool image. Bed, for one. He slanted a smile at Bodie, thinking of the possibilities. “Maybe.”
He hadn’t reckoned on Bodie returning the favour.
End
October 2007
Title: Images False and True
Author: PFL
Slash or Gen: Slash
Archive at ProsLib/Circuit/Hatstand: Yes, please (although you may receive a further edited version!)
Notes: Heartfelt thanks to O Anonymous One, Dorinda,![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
justacat, and elizabethoshea for heroic efforts.
“Talk to me, you bastard!”
Doyle absorbed the blow, no longer struggling against the tape that bound his hands. Bettis’ frustration was tangible. He wouldn’t be surprised if Bettis lost it soon and killed him. Doyle could think about it now from a distance. He had retreated to the ice at his core.
“Do you want to end up like her, Doyle?” Bettis grabbed him by his hair and wrenched his head up. “Do you? Look at her!”
He didn’t have to. He remembered with perfect clarity what Lisa looked like. They’d allowed her to bleed out. There were worse ways to die.
“Tell us where you put the drugs. Tell us!” There was a pause and then Doyle felt the chill of a handgun’s barrel pressed to his temple. “It’d be so easy.”
Bettis was an amateur. He should have killed him within the first half hour. Staying in the warehouse increased the risk of discovery. There wasn’t time for Bettis to break him. He wondered when Bettis would get that idea through his thick head. If it took long enough, Bodie might find them. Doyle reckoned he’d be killed when CI5 arrived, but at least Bettis and his gang would be stopped. Lisa would have some justice. That thought brought a smile.
“You think I’m joking?” Bettis slapped him, and Doyle would have fallen from the chair if Hartz hadn’t grabbed him. He couldn’t suppress a gasp as Hartz shoved him back into the chair. He must have a cracked rib, maybe worse. The only defence he had was the cold control that kept him from speaking. It was frighteningly easy to not care. It was familiar.
“Or maybe I’ll shoot your kneecap out.”
The man had watched too many films. What was the point of that threat? It made him irritable.
Donnor spoke up from behind Bettis. “So cut him in on the deal. A small percent.” Doyle glanced at Donnor with something akin to interest. Donnor was older than the others, and he’d kept his head when they’d realised the drugs were gone.
“Are you insane?” Bettis stood straight, glaring at Doyle, his hand tight on the gun.
“What good does it do us if you kill him before we find the drugs?” Donnor turned to Doyle. “What about it, eh?”
Doyle looked at them, alternatives flitting through his mind. “What makes you think I’m on your side of the law?” He saw the shock that swept through the three of them and nearly laughed.
“You’re lying,” Bettis said, but there was doubt in his tone.
“Right. We cut our losses and get out of here.” Donnor put a hand on Bettis’ arm.
“No!”
“For Chrissake—”
Bettis leaned in to Doyle. “You’re a fucking copper?”
Doyle met his eyes and hid none of the malice he felt. This time Bettis hit him with the gun, and no one kept him from falling to the floor.
“Where’re my drugs?” Bettis snarled the words.
Doyle spat blood.
“You bastard. Where—”
He was interrupted by a shout from outside the office. All three of the men turned as a fourth man came skidding through the doorway. It was the punk kid—Gary, Doyle thought his name was.
Bettis took a step towards the door. “What the fuck’s—”
“Harry’s down.” Gary sounded frightened. None of them had guns except for Bettis. “And Kelly isn’t answering.”
Bettis swung back to Doyle.
“CI5,” Doyle said, and watched as the words struck home.
Bettis took a step towards Doyle, his face twisting, but Donnor stopped him. “Kill him and let’s get out of here. Now!”
“No.” Bettis walked over to Doyle and hauled him to his feet. He towed Doyle to the doorway, jammed the gun into his neck, and shouted out into the warehouse: “I’ve got this fucking bastard here! Doyle, the bitch said his name was. Show yourselves or he buys it. Now!”
“That’s not going to—” Doyle choked as Bettis pressed the gun harder into his neck.
“Do you fucking hear me?” Bettis shouted the words.
“All right.” It was Bodie’s voice.
The warehouse was lit by security lights only—pools of brightness in an otherwise dark space. Bodie slowly emerged into the light just beyond the office doorway. He was dressed in black, a gun in one gloved hand. His face was pale by contrast, and expressionless.
“Who else is here?” Bettis demanded.
“Give it up.” Bodie’s voice was cool. “We’re CI5, mate.”
“No sirens,” Donnor said. “CI5 work in pairs. Maybe he’s Doyle’s?”
Bettis narrowed his eyes. “Yeah, they’d’ve hit us already if there were more. Hartz, get his gun.” Hartz moved forward and took Bodie’s automatic. “Check out the warehouse.” Hartz hesitated only a moment, then disappeared into the darkness.
They all stood still, waiting. Doyle looked at Bodie and knew he’d come alone. The question was whether he’d called for backup before going in.
Hartz’s voice carried to them: “All clear, so far. No one out front!”
Bettis looked at Gary. “Bring him into the office.” Donnor went ahead of them as Bettis dragged Doyle backwards with him. Bodie followed them through the doorway, with Gary behind him. Gary had a knife in his hand. Bodie’s eyes were fastened on Bettis.
“One more time, Doyle,” Bettis said. “Where are my drugs?”
“In the river.”
“No one would throw that much money away. No one.”
“I would.” Doyle smiled.
“Me too,” Bodie said.
“Shut up!” Bettis turned the gun towards Bodie, and Doyle shoved his shoulder into him, hoping to push him off-balance. Bodie was next to Gary. If Bodie could grab the knife—
A shot rang out, and Doyle caught a glimpse of Hartz in the doorway, with Bodie’s gun in his hand. Fear stabbed through him, like a hot poker. Bodie. He cried out as Bettis pounded a fist into his ribs, and then his kidney. Doyle fell to the floor, a great roaring in his ears, pain lancing through him. For a moment it was all he could do to breathe.
He had to get back to the fight, but his fucking hands were still bound behind his back. He rolled and raised his head. He saw Bodie grappling with Hartz, landing a vicious blow to the man’s neck. Donnor was edging around to Bodie’s unprotected back, but Doyle was more concerned about Bettis and the gun. Bettis was aiming at the group, waiting for an opening. Doyle pushed himself towards Bettis, hoping he could trip him, anything.... Bettis fired—but it was Hartz who fell to the ground, struck in the back by the bullet as Bodie held him. Bettis yelled and Donnor jumped Bodie from behind. The roaring was still there—Doyle suddenly realised it was coming from Bodie. Donnor went down, and Bodie rushed Bettis even as the man fired again. Bodie never slowed, although Doyle saw the bullet strike, and within seconds it was over—Bettis dead on the floor, his neck broken.
Bodie’s eyes swept the room as he turned in a tight circle. Doyle stayed still, knowing that Bodie wouldn’t recognise him at that moment. Berserker rage. He’d never witnessed it before, but there was no mistaking it. Bodie was lost to everything except the need to kill. Blood spread from the wound in Bodie’s right shoulder, but Doyle doubted he felt it. Maybe it was a sign of returning control that he was quiet now, but his expression was fierce and his stance aggressive. Words floated through Doyle’s brain—Bodie’s voice from long ago: That's the main thing, staying cool. No wonder.
A noise broke the silence, and Doyle saw Gary struggling to get to his feet, the knife back in his hands. Bodie pounced on him.
“Bodie!” Doyle jerked himself to his knees, hampered by his bound hands, and gasped as his ribs protested the movement.
Bodie stopped. One of his hands was tight on Gary’s arm, the other now held Gary’s knife, and he was poised to strike.
“Let him go.” He could hear sirens in the distance, but the only sound in the office was Gary’s panicked breathing. “It’s done.” Doyle kept his voice quiet. After a moment, Bodie released Gary and stepped back.
Bodie turned his head and Doyle met his eyes, withstanding the heat of the rage he saw there. Bodie didn’t move, even when Gary scuttled through the doorway. Gary wouldn’t get far, and they had more important things to deal with here.
He glanced at the carnage around them, then back at Bodie. The rage was dissipating, and in its place was...fear? Something twisted tight in Doyle’s gut—a feeling as unexpectedly sharp as his own fear for Bodie had been. He caught his breath in sudden realisation. An instant later, Bodie blinked, and the look was gone. His face was expressionless again—the emotion sealed over. Keep it cool, always cool, and in control. Except when he wasn’t.
Mercenary. Killer. How many times had he dug at Bodie with those words? Trying to break through Bodie’s control just for the challenge of it? Only now did he understand the fire he’d played with; what it was that Bodie hid behind the self-discipline. But then, they all had secrets, didn’t they?
After a brief hesitation, Bodie moved to Hartz’s body, picked up and holstered his gun, then walked to Doyle. He slid the knife through the tape around Doyle’s hands and helped him to his feet. Doyle winced as the blood flowed freely through his arms and hands again.
“Are you all right?” Bodie’s voice was as colourless as his face.
“No.” Bodie’s hand tightened on his arm. “But I’ll heal. How’s your shoulder?”
Bodie looked surprised for a moment, then he looked down at the wound. He released Doyle. “Oh.”
“The hospital for both of us, eh?”
“It looks like it.” Bodie examined his wound. “I’ll live.”
“Lisa won’t.” Doyle gestured to the far corner of the office as Bodie looked up. “Killed in the line of duty, they’ll say.” They’d put a notation on her record before they closed it. He couldn’t muster any outrage over the needlessness of her death. He should be feeling more, shouldn’t he? It was too easy to stay distant.
“Not your fault.”
And Doyle smiled at the image Bodie had of him. The guilt would come later.
Bodie turned away, and Doyle could almost see the cloak of cool efficiency he pulled around himself. “The lads must be here—or soon will be. Cowley will probably be with them.” Doyle saw that Bodie’s gaze stayed above floor level as he glanced around. He should follow Bodie’s lead, he knew. Let him rebuild his image. Pretend he’d never witnessed all that Bodie wanted to hide. Could they so easily slip back to normalcy? Did he want that?
“Bodie.” He put his hand on Bodie’s arm. Bodie swung around, and one of his hands clamped on Doyle’s shoulder. Doyle caught a glimpse of Bodie’s eyes—saw the control slip—and then Bodie’s mouth covered his.
Shock kept Doyle still for a moment, then he put his hands on Bodie’s back and opened his mouth to Bodie’s tongue. Heat seared him, coiling through his veins and arteries and burning out every reserve he had. He didn’t give a fuck about anything—except to meet Bodie’s need, Bodie’s urgency, Bodie’s fears. He knew what had broken Bodie’s control at last, and why he’d stopped when Doyle had called to him.
Every inch of Doyle blazed with the light that Bodie sparked in him, and he marvelled at it.
Too soon, Bodie pulled back, breaking the kiss. “Ray.” He seemed dazed, but his eyes were clear, and his hand gripped Doyle’s shoulder hard enough to bruise.
They needed time, but— “The lads will be here any moment. Later, eh?”
The blank expression that slid across Bodie’s face hit Doyle like a punch to the gut. He nearly smiled in his amazement, but Bodie’s need took precedence. He put his hand on the back of Bodie’s neck, bracing him. “It’s all right. You’re safe.”
Bodie stared at him, and Doyle saw wariness in his eyes.
He slid his thumb over Bodie’s skin. “I want you. All of you.”
“But...”
“We all make choices, mate. Every fucking day. To be what we are, or to make us what we want to be. You and me both.” He felt the tension in Bodie’s neck. “I know why you lost it.” His hand tightened as Bodie tried to pull away. “Listen to me! I know. And it’s okay. You’re not alone.” He hesitated a moment. “If you want me.”
“You bloody well know I do.” Bodie’s voice was a fierce whisper.
Doyle took in a breath. They had to be equal in this. “You’re the only one who can hurt me, Bodie. The only fucking one. Do you understand?”
Bodie’s eyes flickered, and then his hand came up and he put his fingers on Doyle’s cheek. “Are you sure about this?”
Doyle let out a quick laugh. “Yeah.” But his smile faded as he looked at Bodie. Doyle wasn’t the only one who could be hurt. “I’m not what you think—”
Bodie kissed him. A quick but firm kiss. “You are. You just don’t know it.”
“Bodie—”
“You choose it, sunshine. Just like me. Every day.”
Doyle stared at him.
Bodie pushed him gently but inexorably towards the door. “Come on, that’s the lads out there.” And, indeed, it was apparent that CI5 had finally arrived.
Doyle narrowed his eyes. “We shall have a talk later.”
“Is that what you think?” They went through the doorway and into the warehouse, moving slowly.
“That’s what I know.”
“Ah, but it’s a day for surprises, isn’t it?”
He sounded happy. Doyle stopped and glared at him.
Bodie grinned. “First we’ll report to Cowley, then we’ll go to hospital, then we’ll go home, then we’ll go to bed. Then we’ll talk, eh?”
“Optimist. You’ve got a bullet wound and I’ve got a cracked rib.”
“We’ll improvise.”
There was, perhaps, a proper time and place to try to break through Bodie’s cool image. Bed, for one. He slanted a smile at Bodie, thinking of the possibilities. “Maybe.”
He hadn’t reckoned on Bodie returning the favour.
End
October 2007
Title: Images False and True
Author: PFL
Slash or Gen: Slash
Archive at ProsLib/Circuit/Hatstand: Yes, please (although you may receive a further edited version!)
Notes: Heartfelt thanks to O Anonymous One, Dorinda,
justacat, and elizabethoshea for heroic efforts. 
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2007-10-17 11:27 am (UTC)Great story, and what a great way to start the morning!
no subject
Date: 2007-10-17 05:49 pm (UTC)The relationship dynamics in this story are kind of holding onto me, I'm finding. I might...need to rework it and expand it. It sort of developed as I was writing. *g*
no subject
Date: 2007-10-17 01:50 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-10-17 05:51 pm (UTC)I'm glad you mentioned the smile. Another reader had trouble with it and I was trying to explain...but I think it's something that each reader needs to interpret for herself.
no subject
Date: 2007-10-17 01:56 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-10-17 05:54 pm (UTC)Thank you so much for commenting!
no subject
Date: 2007-10-17 01:57 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-10-17 07:08 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-10-17 01:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-10-17 07:12 pm (UTC)That's pretty much the basis of all Pros slash stories, isn't it?
Thanks!
no subject
Date: 2007-10-17 02:22 pm (UTC)Thank you very much for this story, I'm so glad you decided to post!
no subject
Date: 2007-10-17 07:14 pm (UTC)Yeah, I love that too. These are two dangerous, competent, bloody minded, and independent adult men. About the only thing they are vulnerable to is each other. This is why I am in Pros. *g*
Thank you for the comments!
no subject
Date: 2007-10-17 07:48 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-10-17 08:53 pm (UTC)[And you will hear from me after this trip of mine! Promise!]
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Date: 2007-10-18 10:48 am (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2007-10-18 03:11 am (UTC)V
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Date: 2007-10-19 09:39 am (UTC)Bodie’s voice from long ago: That's the main thing, staying cool. No wonder.
It makes me wonder what he did, or what happened the first time, that made him put that mantra in place?
Thanks for this. A lovely look behind their masks. :D
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Date: 2007-10-19 12:04 pm (UTC).Ooh, nice thought about what triggered the control Bodie depends on.Hmmm...
Thank you! And back to my trip now! *g*
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Date: 2007-10-20 11:05 am (UTC)Beserker Bodie is a really interesting idea. I don't actually agree with it, given the evidence in canon, but it works well within the context of this story. It's also a possibility that could be explored again. (Hint, moi?)
'Doyle smiled at the image Bodie had of him.' - I just love that line.
'You're the only one...' Well, that sort of sums up Pros, doesn't it .
Favourite line. 'You are. You just don't know it.'
Oh, and the title. Sorry, should have said that first. I love titles that really fit a story, and this one's perfect.
I heard the Clash's 'London's Calling' while I read it. No idea what was in the back of your mind...
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Date: 2007-10-20 01:19 pm (UTC)I don't actually agree with it, given the evidence in canon
Yes, but that's just because he's so good at hiding it...! *g* I was playing with the characterizations a bit, admittedly, but...I don't know, it is kind of intriguing to think about. How much of what we are depends on what we choose to be? He clearly is the cool, efficient agent that we see...yet maybe that's because he knows what he might be, if he doesn't have control... Anyway, it's fun to speculate about. (And the same with Doyle. I see him as passionate and caring on the show, but there is that line from DIAG about how he didn't care enough...)
I am so pleased that you heard the Clash! I honestly don't know where this came from, except that it truly did spring from thinking about the concept of punk rock--the intent, the reality, and the feel of it. And the Clash, in many ways, were perhaps most true to the image.
Thanks for commenting!
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Date: 2007-10-20 04:26 pm (UTC)*Yes, but that's just because he's so good at hiding it...! *g* I was playing with the characterizations a bit, admittedly, but...I don't know, it is kind of intriguing to think about.*
Sorry, I can't work out how to produce italics on LJ either.
Oh, absolutely. And I wasn't complaining. Given all the fic out there I can't think of anyone else who has played with the idea - and you can certainly make an argument for it. For either of them, come to that. But I think it works best if it's Bodie because he does seem the more...repressed - should be a bracket but they seem to disappear on LJ - though that's not exactly the word I'm searching for. Controlled? Obviously you don't emote all over the place while you're in the SAS but keeping such a tight lid on things...
* How much of what we are depends on what we choose to be? He clearly is the cool, efficient agent that we see...yet maybe that's because he knows what he might be, if he doesn't have control... Anyway, it's fun to speculate about. (And the same with Doyle. I see him as passionate and caring on the show, but there is that line from DIAG about how he didn't care enough...)*
And we know Bodie's capable of going off half-cocked in MWAP, for instance. Tho there's a bit in that which crushes all my fangirl dreams where he and C know D's missing and show absolutely no concern. Course, I tell myself B's repressing like mad...
That line of D's from DIAG has always intrigued me. I wonder if after 'Rack' he consciously tried to suppress his emotions to avoid risking killing someone again in inappropriate circumstances - or the possibility that he might have done.
Just occurred to me, because I only love the episode for the B/D bits and tend to skip the plot because I know just enough about the law to get really irritated, is Doyle charged with manslaughter? And if not, why not?
Sorry, going way off track here.
I blame you...
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Date: 2007-10-20 05:43 pm (UTC)Ooh, I like the idea of Doyle trying to protect himself after "The Rack" by suppressing his emotions, and then having it backfire on him-in his mind, at least--in DIAG. There's a story in there post DIAG, isn't there? Hmm.... *g*
Are you asking if Doyle was charged with manslaughter in "The Rack"? I think so...or maybe it's a hearing to see if it would go to trial? I, um, tend to skip all but the B/D parts too. *g*
Go on, keep going off track! Keep talking Pros. And, um, maybe you'll be irresistably drawn to writing Pros again.... *g*
Ohand to do the italics thing use the less-than and greater-than triangle bracket thingies-- < followed by >, with an i in the first pair (where you want the italics to start) and a /i in the second one, (when you want the italics to end. So, less-than, i, greater-than; less-than, /i, greater-than.
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Date: 2007-10-22 10:47 am (UTC)Oh, Hunter/Hunted is blissful. Some many wonderful parts but my abosolute favourite, and it is hard to pick, is when B sweeps through D's gate, and the look D gives him...
Slush Fund - oh, you've hurt your...head *g*
At the moment I dare not think of anything but MOTR, particularly as I'm on the last boring straight. It's about 60K shorter, and I fell for them all over again, but I'm at the stage where I'm losing sight of the trees, never mind the wood *g*.
Many thanks for the italics tip, it worked fine.
I think DIAG and Involvement are two of the richest episodes in the sheer possibilities all stemming from the same place. Go for it.
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Date: 2007-10-22 10:49 am (UTC)Starts mantra of will preview...
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Date: 2007-10-22 11:58 am (UTC)I'm all for you falling for them all over again. *g* It's funny, I've been watching and reading in another fandom recently, but what I get from it is more story ideas for Pros. I don't think that's how it's supposed to work, exactly. *g* But then, Pros is my heart's fandom. There's just something eternally intriguing about the lads, and their relationship.
Good luck with the last bit! I can understand how it might be boring to you, but I can assure you it won't be for us! Go on, give us a good wallow.... *g*
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Date: 2007-10-21 04:12 pm (UTC)He had retreated to the ice at his core.
This rings true as well, because although Doyle can show his emotions more, he can also switch them off - well, really, how could you do a job like this & not be able to?
And I defintely share the "partner-worry" kink - it's one of my must-haves!
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Date: 2007-10-21 06:16 pm (UTC)Partner-worry! Yes! When I first came into fandom I was thrilled to hear about hurt/comfort because that sounded exactly what I had always craved. Only I found out, no, h/c is something different, although partner worry can be involved. What I crave, though, is...one partner worrying/angsting over the other--mostly when the one is in danger, but there can be some quite nice jealousy scenarios as well. *g* And Pros itself--the show--gives us some lovely partner worry moments, going both ways. Hence my obsession. *g*
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Date: 2007-10-22 02:47 am (UTC)I'd love to see their improvisation. *g*
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Date: 2007-10-22 11:54 am (UTC)Yeah, I like the little "oh" when Doyle points it out to him. *g*
I think my imagination fails regarding their improvisation...but I have complete faith that they were well up to the task!
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Date: 2007-10-22 05:31 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-10-26 12:44 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-10-26 09:16 pm (UTC)"It's okay. You're not alone. " Loved that line and the way Bodie recovers and get the truth to Doyle.
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Date: 2007-10-27 11:42 am (UTC)See, there's just so much there, between the two of them, to ponder and to write about! *g*
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Date: 2007-10-27 09:38 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-11-11 05:40 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-11-11 09:32 pm (UTC)I'll be interested to see what you make of my newest story for
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Date: 2007-11-12 03:14 pm (UTC)Oh yeah, taking the seeds and forcing them into wild and exotic bloom.*g*
Mind you, you had a bit of a berserker Bodie in that lovely story of yours.
Well, the traditions are there -- you read any of those old historical accounts of soldiers rescuing comrades -- the heat of battle, the blood lust... Cool as he is under fire, I can see Bodie standing in the flames... You did it really well.
I'm looking forward to more from you!
Argh. Fifteen thousand words into a DiaG story that shows no signs of stopping -- or, worse, coherency.
I'll be interested to see what you make of my newest story for discoveredinalj It's a bit...different from my usual.
Talk about a great opening hook. Funny, sexy banter -- and a light but sure hand on the mushy stuff.*g* Liked it very much.
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Date: 2007-11-12 05:23 pm (UTC)Ooh, but it's exciting from this end of it! Go on, go work some more on it. *g* (I bet it's more coherent than you think.) You and I are, I think, in sync with the characters--and you give us great action, and that balance between the emotional arc and plot. It's a combination that I crave--it gives me what I see on the screen with extra benefits *g*. So, you know, I can't wait. (Besides, I'm tired of struggling with my own idea for
It was a great opening hook, wasn't it? I'm not very good at those so I'm pleased I did it for once! *g*
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Date: 2007-11-13 01:13 pm (UTC)Probably not, but...what the heck. I'm having fun, and even if it is self-indulgent, it's my play time.
You and I are, I think, in sync with the characters--and you give us great action, and that balance between the emotional arc and plot. It's a combination that I crave--it gives me what I see on the screen with extra benefits *g*. So, you know, I can't wait. (Besides, I'm tired of struggling with my own idea for justacat's new zine. Arrgh, indeed.)
Oh, well now you're just turning my head (Exorcist fashion) with praise!
Great news to hear Justacat's doing another zine -- and that you'll have a story in it. I enjoyed the first NFA hugely. Can't wait for the next one.