God, what a boring way to spend an evening!
Bodie sat back in the driver's seat of his silver Capri, glancing round yet again at the quiet road. Absolutely nothing was likely to happen tonight: Cowley was being bloody-minded again, sending them out on observation duties. Easing us back to work, huh!
Idly, Bodie fingered the scar on his neck, the last tell-tale reminder of an attack by an enraged Slav that he and Doyle had been keeping under surveillance... He didn't remember much...their quarry, dressed to kill in an elegant dinner suit -- and that awful hound of hell that passed as a guard dog...Ray had gone down beneath its slavering jaws, yelling his name - he could still hear those screams...
Bodie glanced at his partner, who was gazing out at the moonlit park.
Ray had been badly hurt. The scars were all healed nicely, his face as pretty as ever... Wonder what it'd be like, thought Bodie, to run my fingers down his cheek...make sure he's really okay...wonder if he'd let me...
Doyle shifted uncomfortably in the passenger seat. Maybe Ray was nervous at night -- funny, he'd never really considered that possibility until now. It's strange, Bodie mused. The attacks on both of us, on the same night affecting us differently; Ray gets jumpy after sundown, but me -- I feel like I'm coming alive.
Doyle's head was turned away from him, exposing his neck. Couldn't see a mark anywhere. You'd never know the dog had mauled him...and I wouldn't mind making a meal of him -- Bodie licked his lips.
The small sound decided Doyle.
"Look, Bodie, I could do with some air. I'm going to take a walk."
"Wait a minute," Bodie said softly. "I'll make sure the coast is clear." He checked carefully in the mirrors, but couldn't see a thing. "Do you want me to come with you?"
"Nooo," sighed Doyle. "You'd better stay here."
Doyle let himself out of the car, and stretched. Bodie leaned across the empty seat and watched. Moonlight had changed him, made his partner sinister, a creature of the night.
"Bodie," Doyle whispered, "if I were you, I'd lock the doors. I'll stay out here now."
"That's stupid..." snorted Bodie.
But Doyle had turned his back, and with animal grace vaulted over the paling fence between the road and the parkland, vanishing into the bushes.
Bodie paused a moment, then slid out into the night himself. The fence proved no problem. He followed Doyle's trail through the trees, using senses he never realised he had.
"Ray, come on out," he called softly. "Ray?"
He stopped suddenly when he reached the clearing in the middle of the ornate shrubbery, and he stared: Ray had stripped down to his underpants, his back was to Bodie as he stood gazing up at the moon, drinking in the light.
"Ray, what're you doing?"
The slender figure whipped round, his face a mask of rage.
"I told you to stay in the car! Go--oo!"
"What's wrong, sunshine?" God, how he hated that nick-name now.
"I'm not safe to be with. GO--OO back to the car!"
"Not until you tell me what's wrong."
"Make me," Bodie challenged, taking up a fighting stance.
With a desperate howl, Doyle hurled himself at his partner. Bodie had a brief impression of something hard-hitting and extremely hairy moving towards him before he dodged, flitting out of the range of his crazed other half.
Doyle's method of attack were well-known to Bodie, and he was more than capable of defending against his smaller, lighter opponent. It was quite a shock when with an almighty shove, Doyle knocked him backward and bore down on him, slavering and with his eyes on Bodie's neck...
"Warned you!" growled Doyle, as his hairy face came closer. "Too late now!"
Oh, I dunno, thought Bodie, I could still pull a surprise on him. He grinned and licked his lips -- and then he sank his fangs into Doyle's throat...
-- THE END --