Discovered in a Livejournal

They thought it was over. The Charity Christmas party had gone smoothly.  The hundreds of children who had attended had unwrapped their gifts and had now gone, leaving mountains of wrapping paper, congealing food and hours of clean up in their wake.

Unfortunately, for the Ci5 contingent in attendance, a different type of clean up was now needed from them, just when they thought they had successfully avoided such a requirement.

Bodie grimaced again, as he stood stock still, a gun repeatedly shoved against his temple, a cornered man holding it there, desperately demanding money and transport.  Not only had this man's assassination attempt on the visiting Minister come too late (he was long gone), but all of his co-conspirators had been captured, caught unawares by the Ci5 contingent awating their arrival.

The man, whom Bodie knew as Decker, was negotiating with Cowley, who was safely behind the wall in another room. All the rest of Ci5 had also been evacuated out, but Bodie knew they were at all escape routes, looking for that one moment, that could bring this mess to an end.

The wrapping paper rattled in the room, causing Decker to startle and jab that gun again in Bodie's temple.  "Easy mate", he said quietly to the frantic man, "its only the wrapping paper settling."  "Shut your mouth" Decker snarled, "you're only here to ensure I get out of here safe and well."  Bodie shut it, knowing that the chances of that happening in Decker's favour were not good. From where he was standing, it was not looking optimistic for him coming out unscathed either.

Bodie's mind turned to Doyle.  Doyle had seen Decker behind Bodie, but too late to yell a warning and Bodie was in the way, so a shot was not possible. Their eyes had met once he was taken and Bodie saw in Doyle's eyes, all the reassurance he needed - his partner was safe and working on making him so as well.  Then he was turned as Decker looked to clear the room and he lost track of his partner. The wrapping paper rattled again and as Decker turned them both to face the sound, Bodie reacted to his partner's yelled "Down" and dropped to the floor.  In the same second, both Doyle's and Decker's guns fired.

"Doyle!" Bodie yelled as he scrambled away from the injured Decker, who was lying in a fetal position behind him, disarmed and with a bullet in his shoulder.  "Stop yelling, I'm here" said his partner in an impatient tone, as he finished extricating himself from the discarded wrapping paper. Bodie had never seen him look so good, as Doyle stalked up to Decker, rolled him over and handcuffed him, before handing him over to the squad for treament and to enjoy the hospitality of Cowley and the Ci5 interrogation rooms. Once relieved of his burden, Doyle turned back to Bodie, and his tone turned to concern as he examined the side of Bodie's head where the gun has been repeatedly jabbed.  "Are you OK?", he asked gently.  Bodie winced, "Bit of a headache, but otherwise fine."

Cowley heard the response as he approached them and immediately directed them to return to HQ for Bodie to get checked out and to turn in their reports. Once done, they were free for the next two days.  An offhand "Well done", was thrown over his shoulder, as Cowley returned to the rest of the clean up.

"Things I do for you", said Bodie, "two days off!".  "Things I do for you", responded Doyle,  "it was not easy crawling through all that Christmas paper quietly." Bodie looked a question at him.  "Well how else was I supposed to get close enough to get a good shot at him," Doyle answered.  "Had to make sure you didn't end up with a bullet up your crankcase, or anywhere else for that matter."  He smiled, "I have plans for that fine piece of machinery."

The wind tore through him as he raced through the deserted streets – snow whirling in flurries like mini tornadoes, battering his face, making it difficult to see, let alone catch their quarry. Markham was a nasty drug dealer who preyed on the young and immature, and who had somehow managed to evade the noose as CI5 has surrounded his base of operations. Only luck and his partner’s eagle eyesight had picked him up as he escaped on foot. Bodie lost track of his partner in the blinding snow and only the sound of pounding feet kept him on the right track.

Bodie blinked to clear his eyes and then there was no time and he had run into his partner, recognised by his plaid jacket, nearly flipping over the top of him as they collided.

“Ooof. Doyle, what the hell?” Bodie proclaimed, taking a moment to catch his breath and exclaiming his confusion and aggression in that one quick question. With adrenaline coursing through his veins after the long chase and the cold suffusing his bones, he had no patience and moved to take up the chase again, when he realised that things were not well with his partner.