(after 'Fugitive')

I peered round the door of the bedroom, listening for any tell-tale signs of wakefulness. There was a slow easy rhythm of breathing -- still out for the count....

Couldn't really blame him, I thought, as I headed for the street: days like yesterday we could both live without.

Down the stairs, and into the early bright -- at least it wasn't raining yet. I glanced at my watch...enough time to do once round the park.... I broke into a gentle trot, to get the circulation going before settling into my stride.

Running always used to be a chore, turning out in all winds and weathers to go belting through a couple of miles of stinking city -- you have to be mad, wanting to do it. That's what Bodie reckons anyway. Some days, I'd almost agree with him, but I've found it's a great way of building speed and stamina....

Bodie once told me I was too slow to catch a cold. That was a long time ago, when we were first teamed. Didn't think much of him, either -- we were always trying to out-do each other at everything...and Bodie, for all he's bigger-boned and heavier, has got a fantastic turn of speed. Put a saddle on him, you could race him round Aintree -- and I'd back him any day!

On the odd occasion when I can persuade him to join me for a run, he usually manages to leave me standing: the four-minute mile is in no danger whatsoever from me....

But after that fiasco at the airport....

One of the worst moments of my life -- Bodie taking off across that field, trussed up like a Christmas turkey. The bloody idiot didn't wait for someone to try and defuse the bomb round his neck, he just went sprinting into the smoke, and yelling at ME not to commit suicide!

They do say that fear lends wings to your feet: if you add anger in equal proportion, you can produce world record results. One minute was all it took to sight Bodie and run him down -- I lived an eternity in that sixty seconds -- never thought that I could make it.

But we survived -- this time.

After the bomb detonated, we lay in the grass for a while, ears still ringing with the blast. I raised my head to find Bodie on his hands and knees, ashen-faced. He scrambled to his feet, and hauled me up.

I glared at him through the smoke.

"You ever tell me to bloody leave you to it, MATE," I snarled, "and I'll fuckin' strangle you!"

Bodie blinked hard twice. The smoke was making our eyes water.

"Let's get back to the Old Man," he said shakily.

He still held my hands in his. I jerked him in close, and kissed him hard before we came apart.

"Race you back," I offered.

I remembered not to slam the front door when I came in. I dropped my tracksuit top over the arm of the sofa, kicked off my trainers, and padded into the bedroom.

Bodie hadn't stirred. He was still lying with his face buried in my pillow, the duvet scrunched round his waist.

I went to sit on the edge of the mattress, and he moved restlessly as I disturbed his dream.

"Shh, Bodie-mate, 's only me..."

I caressed the pale flesh of his shoulder, lightly tracing the scar on his back. He snuffled and rolled over, opening his eyes slowly. He wrinkled his nose: I was still hot and sweaty.

"Morning, sunshine."

Then he crooked his arm round my neck and dragged me into a kiss. His free hand slid under my tee-shirt, peeling away damp cotton.

"Why didn't you wake me?" he demanded drowsily when we came up for air.

"You looked like you needed to sleep."

He snorted with laughter, and blinked at me.

"Do I look that bad?"

His face was stubbled and bruised, and there were other marks scattered over his body. His wrists were still raw from the ropes...

"You look awful," I told him honestly, and kissed his forehead. "But I still love you."

"I know." He sounded smug as he reached for another cuddle. "Feeling's mutual, you know."

"Glad to hear it," I laughed. "Come on, time's pushing, and the Cow wants to see us this morning..."

"Ray?" He was suddenly serious, as he gathered me close and crushed the breath from me. He buried his face in my shoulder.

I snaked my arms round him, shocked to find he was trembling.

"What, love?"

"I was scared --" his voice faltered. "When Dreisinger started to walk towards the plane..."

"I know, mate -- I was bricking it myself! I could've killed you for taking off like that!"

"Not for myself." Bodie raised his head, and met my gaze earnestly. "Didn't think about ME dying -- but if I'd stayed, what would've happened to you and the Old Man? If Dreisinger had pressed that button then..."

There would have been a major part of C.I.5. raining down on the Home Counties. My gut tightened.

"Bodie --" I drew his head back down to my shoulder, stroking his hair. "It wouldn't've been your fault. I read your report -- if I'd stayed down, played dead for a bit longer...I nearly got you killed --"

He looked up sharply.

"Don't!" he ordered. "It's over now -- we got out alive..." He smiled. "We should be celebrating -- that is, if you've got the energy," he teased.

I pushed him flat on the mattress, pinning him there with my body.

"Listen, sunshine," I warned. "I may not be able to gallop the legs off you on the streets, but between the sheets, I can outlast you any time..."

"Oh, yeah?" he challenged cheekily. "Prove it!"

I gave him a run for his money, but it ended with a dead heat.

-- THE END --