Can I remember where I was this time last year, what I was doing?

Stupid question -- course I can. Could tell you to the exact minute who, and what, and where...

We were in a terraced house, two up, two down, watching the place across the street. We were keeping tabs on two blokes who had a string of offences to their names longer than a monkey's arm. Special Branch had had a tip-off that they may've been sub-let to the I.R.A.

Cowley was all set to launch a full offensive against them, and we were in position to make certain that they didn't bolt on, the countdown to moving in...

I can tell you to the second where I was, and what I was doing. It was exactly four minutes to midnight that my partner hit the deck -- there were bullets flying from both sides when we went in...He was holding his hand over the wound, while he struggled to sit up -- he saved my life that night -- he killed the bastard who went for me...I'll NEVER forget that night, as long as I live.

I remember everything -- the ambulance ride through the traffic, willing the driver to get his foot down, to get to St. Thomas' -- to save him...

Can I remember? I almost wish that I didn't. I relived that night for weeks -- because he wasn't there, where he should've been to keep the nightmares away...

Doyle leaned against the back of the sofa, and took a sip of whisky, as he listened to the D.J. reminiscing, recounting anniversaries and events in years past.

It was two minutes to midnight...

The dark head lifted from his shoulder, and two sleepy blue eyes blinked at him in the soft glow from the reading lamp.

"It is tomorrow yet?" Bodie yawned.

Doyle hugged him close, and smiled.

"Not yet, sweetheart. Only a minute to go -- you can stay awake for one minute, can't you?"

Bodie's head dropped to its favourite pillow, and he snuggled up like a tired kid. Doyle kissed the pale forehead softly.

"Come on, Bodie. It IS New Year's Eve..."

-- THE END --

New Year's Eve '91