"Stop that, you great oaf! You're tickling me!"

The silk-smooth hands continued their inexorable process, finally giving a tug to my bow-tie. "Got to straighten it out," Bodie's blue eyes twinkled. "After all, this is our big day."

"I don't know if 'straighten' is the right word," I retorted, squirming under his ministrations. I have always hated any sort of formalwear; it invariably makes me itch. Bodie, however, always looks so self-assured, as he did in his blazer, the first day I met him.

Bodie ruffled my hair, then primped it. "Always knew I was in the wrong profession," he smirked. "Should have been a hairdresser. Less dangerous, not so many bullets flying." His face drew into mock- seriousness. "Let Guillaume Andre style your tresses. Ah hah! Should I braid it?" His hand tweaked one of my locks.

"You prat," I pushed his hand away. It wandered up toward my face, where it gently stroked the injury I had received so many years ago.

A brief shiver passed through me at the memory. I had been fifteen and newly exploring my varied preferences, seeking male companionship this time. A gang of bully-boys had come out, looking for "pansies" to beat up ... I wound up in hospital, a plate inserted in my right cheek. But the knife I carried had put one of the bashers in the next corridor from my own hospital room.

I pushed the memory away and allowed the shivers to turn into ones of sheer pleasure. "Should I purr?" I asked, then curled my head underneath the caresses. "Mrow!" The park bashers were far behind me now: Even the nutters and terrorists that CI5 fought continually could be left behind. Today was our special day where we would commit ourselves to each other -- our Holy Union.

Neither of us are church-goers. Bodie has said frequently that I would be condemned to the same heavenly domain as the Cow. But Cowley had accepted our relationship -- he despises bigotry of any type. In fact, he would be sitting in the first pew. Murphy was Bodie's best man, and Jax would be mine; our fellow agents insisted in sharing in the festivities. A minister from the Metropolitan Community Church of London would be performing the ceremony. M.C.C. was the church where gays and bisexuals, shunned by their own denominations, could go for worship and solace. Non-church goers like my mate and I can still have our vows formalized; that is one of the services M.C.C. provides. Non-believers we might be -- yet somehow we felt we needed this ritual of our joining. We had both agreed on this matter.

Murphy poked his head, followed by Jax. "It's time," he said. We stepped out of the dressing room and into the narthex. The church's organist began playing hymn music. I swallowed hard. I can still get all sentimental over these old hymns. I chuckled as I thought of the priest of my childhood church -- what would Father Devlin have thought if he could have seen us now? He's probably rolling in his grave.

We walked down the aisle of the tiny church building, Bodie and I. His hand grasped mine, his blue eyes were floating far away. Did I see a mist within them? Perhaps I was only imagining it.

Rev. Darlene Keene, a jovial black woman, stood at the head of the aisle. She held her head high in proud defiance, her teeth flashing in a welcoming smile. Traditional society would shun her doubly, for her color as well as for being a lesbian. As we stepped toward her, I could see Cowley seated between my mother and my aunt. Other members of the Doyle clan were scattered throughout the pews. Gratitude flowed within me. Like our boss and close colleagues, my family was more concerned with my happiness than by the form of the relationship.

Bodie's eyes scanned the pews. A brief glint flashed through them. None of his family was present. They never would be at a rite such as ours. They considered it the height of perversion and blasphemy. Bodie held his chin high, grasping my hand more firmly.

Rev. Keene held up two rings as she murmured the opening words of the ceremony. "Our Parent and Redeemer, we are gathered here together for this rite of Holy Union." I felt the mist come to my own eyes as she continued her words.

"Raymond Doyle," she nodded toward me. "Will you promise to love William Andrew Phillip Bodie?" Bodie winced a bit at the mention of his full name; he always likes being just "Bodie."

The minister continued. "Will you cherish him in sickness and in health, all the rest of your days?" I was thankful that we didn't have to put in the "obey" part. After all, who would be the one to say it? I nodded my assent. "I will." After all, I had watched his back all the way up to this day. Of course, I would keep on doing so.

"William Andrew Phillip Bodie," Rev. Keene indicated my partner. "Will you promise to love Raymond Doyle?" Bodie's eyes brightened, saying it all as the minister continued the ritual words. The Rev. Keene gave us our rings -- plain gold bands which would be the symbols of our joining. I felt the excited tremor of Bodie's hand as he slipped the glittering circlet around my finger -- just as I felt my own shivering as I placed his ring in position.

"I now declare you joined in Holy Union," Rev. Keene's beaming face proclaimed. My hands wound around my mate's shoulders as he brought his face toward mine. Our mouths seized each other in perfect abandon. It was safe here -- no outraged public would wrinkle their faces in frowns of derision or disgust at the sight of two men kissing. No one would demand that we be charged with public indecency. This was a holy place, for the expression of our sacred love, which would flower in the face of all hatred and unreason. How can we be so hated -- for loving? The question seared itself in my mind for perhaps the thousandth time. My tongue sought the moistness which was Bodie as my fingers traced the chisled, beautiful visage of my beloved.

Cowley had generously allowed us a week for our honeymoon holiday. Bodie pulled the Capri up to the thatched seaside cottage's front door. I moved to scramble out, but he held up his hand and shook his head. He stepped out, then around, bowing deeply as he opened the door. "For my blushing bride," he crooned.

"You berk!" I growled. "Be careful before I make you blush." I made a show of stretching my legs out gracefully. I had my usual jeans on -- we didn't have to wear those itchy tuxedoes any longer. Thank God, my mind whispered. I stepped from the car. Bodie was kneeling down before me, presenting me with a sheaf of roses. I swept them from his extended hands, clutching them close to my heart. Their scent wafted into my nostrils.

Bodie arose, then proceded into the front door. I followed him inside. A small sitting room, appointed with oak furniture and a floral-print couch greeted me. An open bedroom door gave its invitation in the back of the room.

"Uh ..." I began. In regular marriages, the bride would be swept off her feet at this point. But in our case? "Er, what do we do now?"

Bodie fluttered his impossibly long eyelashes. "Why, you're going to carry me across the threshold, my dear."

My jaw dropped. How was I supposed to carry that big oaf? Bodie smiled so sweetly at me that my heart melted. Well, at least I could try ...

I placed the roses on a table, then lifted him up and almost collapsed; I had to let him down. "You prat," I sputtered. "Can't we just ... uh, walk across?"

A look of indescribable despair crossed his gorgeous features. Of course, his eyes twinkled in amusement.

"I'll carry you across the threshold, just you see," I muttered. I jerked him over my shoulders, in a fireman's carry. I had to struggle to keep from falling to the floor. I staggered across the room, almost tripping on the straw-woven carpet. "This is better then Macklin's training course," I gasped.

Somehow, I made it across the sitting room, into the bedroom. I unceremoniously dumped Bodie, sprawling, on the four-posted bed. "There, take that, you crud," I muttered. I turned away from him to catch my breath.

A shiver of delight suddenly traveled down my spine. The fingers of silk were trailing down my back. My body melted like butter in a hot oven. I rolled on the soft bed next to my mate.

"Sunshine," he murmured. "You're exhausted." He cupped my cheeks, then plunged his tongue into my lips. My own tongue surged to meet his.

"Let me," he murmured, lifting his mouth from mine. His fingers feathering me so I could hardly stand it, he unbuttoned my shirt, then unzipped my jeans. My body arched in helpless quivers on top of the covers.

"Off they go," my lover admonished. He rolled off the bed, then grasped my jeans, finally pulling them off. Fierce shivers clutched around me as Bodie worked on my shirt and underclothes.

Then his clothes were off as well. I stretched out as he rolled me on my stomach. "How's my little moggie?" He scratched behind my ear.

"PPPPPPRRRRRRR!" I murmured.

Somehow his magic hands had moved from my ears, underneath to my groin. Waves of electric shivers coursed through my whole body as I squirmed against his grasp. Today, I would be his. He would be mine, perhaps tomorrow. It did not matter.

A drawer opened as Bodie pulled a condom from a packet. We had been exclusively together for a year or so -- but before then ... The thin rubber would provide us its barrier. Our vows had been given to each other, and soon we would be able to despense with the protection.

Velvet fingers probed between my buttocks. I opened up eagerly for him. His shaft slid inside as my body pumped against his in perfect rhythm. Then he reached the spot of ecstacy. I exploded across the bedcovers as his climax throbbed deep inside.

I rolled off my stomach as Bodie withdrew. I lay my head upon his pale chest. "Sunshine," I murmured. "Love you -- forever and ever and ever ..."

"That's a long time," Bodie said dryly. He pinched my ear, then stroked my cheek. "I guess, though, that it will be long enough." His hand threaded through my hair.

A wetness crept to the corners of my eyes. This time, I did not fight it. My tears washed against my mate's skin.

The words of the promises we had made during our ceremony echoed through my mind. My lips opened on their own, repeating the precious words. "I will cherish and love you, through sickness and in health, all the rest of my days ..."

-- THE END --