Swinging the door shut with his foot, Bodie juggled the groceries into the kitchen. He had just come off a week long job and wanted nothing more than a hot bath and a decent supper. Making quick work of putting the items away, he moved into the bathroom, undoing the buttons to his shirt as he went.

Satisfied with the steaming temperature of the water, he plugged the tub and tossed the remainder of his clothes into the laundry bag. With a deep sigh, he eased down into the soothing water, relaxing back as the tub continued to fill.

The shrill ringing of the phone caused him to groan as he reached forward to shut off the water. Muttering under his breath, he grabbed a towel and quickly wrapped it around his waist, ignoring the puddles of water that cascaded off him as he padded into the living room toward the insistent phone.

"Yeah!" snapped Bodie.

"I need you down at headquarters," came Cowley's brusque reply.

"But Sir, 've just gone off duty," protested Bodie, clenching his jaw. He had already handed in his written report the moment he got back and had been looking forward to a bit of down time.

"I know that, lad. I'm sorry, but this is important," said Cowley.

Bodie sighed heavily and ran a hand through his short, black hair. "On my way."

"Good." Cowley clicked off, leaving Bodie glaring at the receiver.

---

Bodie knocked sharply on Cowley's office door.

"Enter!" shouted Cowley from the other side.

Stepping into the office, Bodie stopped at the sight before him. In all the years he had worked for Cowley, he had never seen his boss this way. The Scotsman had a decidedly rumpled look. The collar of his shirt opened, sleeves rolled up, Cowley paced back and forth in front of his desk.

"Sir?"

Cowley stopped and turned to face his agent. "Come in and close the door." He felt the responsibility of his job weighing heavily on his shoulders. Decisions he made affected the lives of others, and sometimes those effects were grim.

Bodie did as instructed, remaining near the door. He didn't need to ask any questions, he knew his boss would get directly to the point.

Cowley pinched the bridge of his nose before speaking. "I had Doyle working on another case while you were occupied up north. It was supposed to be a simple information gathering assignment." Cowley paused, pinning Bodie with a steady stare. "He was to find proof he could of a black market trade in selling flesh to the highest bidder. Women and men are abducted and sold to be playthings for the rich and twisted who have the money to buy whatever they want."

"What went wrong?" A cold fist clenched Bodie's gut, intuition screaming at him.

"Somehow Doyle was made."

"Is he dead?" asked Bodie, all emotions erased from his features. He silently vowed to himself that whoever was responsible would pay dearly.

"I don't believe so."

"What happened?" A rush of relief washed over Bodie. If Ray was still alive, then there was a chance to get him back.

Cowley didn't reply, instead he handed Bodie a large, brown envelope.

With a sharp look at Cowley, Bodie opened the flap and tipped the envelope, spilling its contents. A number of glossy pictures slid into his hand. The breath caught in Bodie's throat as he looked at them. Each one was of Ray, naked. Naked and in provocative positions, accompanied by other men whose faces were not in the picture or were turned away from the camera. Only Doyle's features were clearly in view.

"What the 'ell is this?!" demanded Bodie, unable to look away from the wanton abandon that had been captured on his partner's face. At closer inspection, he noted the slightly unfocused glaze in the half shuttered green eyes.

"That is their way of rubbing our noses into it," answered Cowley, pouring two glasses of scotch. "If I try to bring them in on the basis of those photos, it will be thrown out. The photos aren't proof that Doyle is being held against his will or being forced into such deeds."

"You've got to be kidding! He's obviously drugged!" A surge of protective jealousy struck Bodie, and he quickly squashed it before it could surface where Cowley could see it in his face. Over the years of their partnership, he had hidden his inner most feelings for Doyle. He would rather deal with an unfulfilled yearning than lose Doyle completely.

"Aye, it is. To you and me. But those in power will only see what is meant for them to see. There are no signs of force being used on him," Cowley said, motioning toward the photos, yet keeping his focus averted. "With Doyle's sexual leanings of bisexuality documented, these pictures will be viewed as a simple situation of an agent being caught with his pants down. Literally." He would never have divulged such private information about one of his men, but he needed Bodie to completely understand the situation.

"What?" Bodie jerked his head up, unsure he had heard correctly. "Bisexual? Ray?" His heart skipped a beat, and a surge of surprise washed over him. After all these years of fearing Doyle's reaction should he ever suspect his partner was even slightly bent, hit him with a force to find out that those years had been wasted.

Cowley sighed and moved to sit in his chair. "It's in his personal files that Doyle has had dalliances with both sexes. It has never been an issue, since he had always been discreet. In fact, he hasn't been involved with a man since his partnering with you." Although there was no proof of any past liaisons of that sort in Bodie's file, he had his suspicions when it came to 4.5 and the uncharacteristic attachment Bodie had developed for his partner.

Bodie's head was spinning.

"It seems he values your partnership and is unwilling to jeopardize it should you have found out," explained Cowley patiently. He knew he was gambling at revealing such private information about Doyle, but he wasn't the type of man to gamble without the odds heavily in his favour.

"Then why are you telling me now?" asked Bodie.

"The only reason I'm revealing this aspect of 4.5's life is to stress that this is a precarious situation where the powers that be won't necessarily view things in their proper perspective. There won't be any help from that quarter," answered Cowley. He paused before adding, "And to prepare you with the real possibility that Doyle may not want to be found. Especially by you."

Bodie shoved the pictures back into the envelope and tossed it onto Cowley's desk. "That's ridiculous! You can't honestly believe Ray would willingly stay in this situation. That he'd prefer to be someone's... boy toy, rather than be rescued." Bodie could feel his face turning red with anger.

"I'm not saying that," snapped Cowley. "I'm just pointing out that in light of the situation, Doyle might very well choose to disappear the moment chance presented itself."

"Why on earth would he do that?" asked Bodie through clenched teeth. He would not lose Doyle. Not now. Not ever, if he had any choice in the matter.

Cowley pressed his lips tightly together, watching Bodie closely. He waited, looking for the moment when the answer would sink into the thick skull.

Bodie held Cowley's hard gaze with his own, his mind racing. He imagined himself in Doyle's place without the knowledge of his partner's feelings, and the answer flashed brightly. If their roles were reversed, he wouldn't want to face the recrimination reflected in his partner's eyes, not to mention the rest of the squad. The worst would be the change that would come over the partnership when every gesture would be viewed in a different light. But that would have to mean that Doyle did feel that way for him to care how Bodie saw him.

"Exactly," said Cowley when he saw the understanding in the dark, cobalt blue eyes. "I want 4.5 brought home, Bodie. By whatever means necessary."

Bodie narrowed his eyes, suspicious of the underlying order to work even further outside the guidelines of the law than he normally conducted himself. Not that he wouldn't anyhow, but his boss had never given consent before, no matter how veiled the desire for him to do so.

"It was my choice to send him," continued Cowley, in a rare moment of feeling he needed to explain himself for his own conscience. A conscience that he had thought had been barely kept intact by the simple sense of honour. "It's my responsibility to retrieve him if it is within my power to do so."

"I'll bring him home, Sir," vowed Bodie. "But I need a place to start."

Cowley nodded and pulled a file from the stack on his desk. "A number of missing persons have been noted to have been last seen at The Knight's Cup. That's Doyle's last known location."

"I know of it," said Bodie, accepting the thin file and its meagre content. He had rarely frequented the establishment, doing so only when he needed to lose himself to the seedier side of humanity to truly appreciate the goodness of life he worked so hard to protect.

"Doyle's last report indicated he had a lead on their activities. Unfortunately, what you hold in your hands is the only information we have to go on," scowled Cowley.

"When was the last time you heard from him?"

"Two days ago. He was scheduled to report in this morning. Instead these were delivered." Cowley nodded toward the large envelope.

"How many of the squad know of this?" If Bodie had his way, no one would ever discover the existence of these photographs.

"Just the two of us," assured Cowley. "And if I have any say in the matter, and I do, nothing will be known about this op and its unfortunate turn."

Bodie nodded slightly, satisfied. He scanned the small photos of the men who ran the flesh trade along with a short bio for each. He studied his adversaries with the sharp intensity of one who was long familiar with being the hunter. "I doubt they'll voluntarily give up Ray's location, even with a strong incentive."

"Aye, perhaps the incentive needs be more along their lines, rather than a physical one," mused Cowley.

Bodie looked up. His boss obviously already had a plan of operation.

"We've just entered the flesh business." At that moment, Cowley 's whole demeanor hardened and his voice held a deadly edge.

"We, Sir?" A small shiver ran down Bodie's spine at the coldness peering from hard eyes.

"You're not exactly the picture of the sort of client they are in search of," said Cowley. "You will play the role of my liaison with them."

"With all due respect... "

"We'll get in my way," interrupted Cowley. "Once we have Doyle, then the major players will be taken out." Of all the horrors humanity had visited upon itself, the selling of one life for the sadistic pleasure of another's ranked upper most with him.

---

The dark interior of the pub was hazy with thick cigarette smoke. Bodie searched the room, seeking a face that would match one of the photos. He spotted his target, the one called Huntley, sitting in a back corner, hunched forward and speaking in low tones with another man. Resisting the urge to charge across the room and beat the living hell out him, Bodie opted for a table near the two men. He ordered a pint, then sat back and waited.

He watched as the man with his target rose and left, and he still waited. Nearly an hour later, his quarry stood and headed out of the pub. Carefully, Bodie stepped outside, looking right then left. He spotted Huntley turning the corner and followed him.

Once he reached the corner, Bodie slowed and cautiously rounded the building. The cold steel of a gun's nuzzle pressed hard behind his ear.

"Can I 'elp you?" asked Huntley, his breath tickling the small hairs on Bodie's neck.

"You're Huntley, right?"

"Who's asking?"

"My employer is interested in the sort of merchandise you deal in," said Bodie. He felt the gun press harder. "A sort of made to order service that isn't available in the stark light of day."

"Oh, yeah? And where did he hear that?" demanded Huntley.

"I'm not privy to his sources," answered Bodie. "I'm merely his messenger."

"Messenger boy, eh?" snorted Huntley. "Well give your boss a message for me. I don't know what the 'ell 'e's talkin' about."

"Your loss, mate," shrugged Bodie, dislodging the man's arm that held the gun. "I doubt you have that many clients that you could turn one away." Bodie straightened his jacket and moved to walk away. "Hell of a way to stay in business. Probably don't have anything that would interest him anyhow."

"Hold up there," said Huntley, measuring Bodie up and down. "How much are we talkin'?"

"Forget it," said Bodie, his voice low and menacing. "I knew this was a mistake from the moment my boss suggested it. A half rate organization like the one you work for could never deliver on a specific order." He shoved past Huntley, silently praying the man would not simply let him walk away.

"Just a sec," said Huntley, hurrying to step in front of Bodie to block his way. "One can't be too careful in this line of work. Still not convinced, but no harm done to hear you out. This isn't the place to discuss business. Come with me."

Bodie hesitated a moment, then nodded. They walked silently down the alley until they came to a doorway.

"We won't be interrupted here," said Huntley, pushing the door open and motioning Bodie to precede him.

Bodie stood where he was, inclining his head for Huntley to enter first.

Huntley shrugged and stepped over the threshold and took the stairs leading down.

Taking a last look up and down the street, Bodie followed.

At the bottom of the stairs was a small hallway. Huntley moved to the second door on the right and unlocked it. He turned on the lights, revealing a room with a battered desk and a few chairs and another door leading into a bathroom. "Don't let appearances fool you. Wouldn't due to draw attention to our little enterprise."

Bodie took a quick look around, assuring himself no one else was lurking about to surprise him before taking a seat.

"Now then," said Huntley, settling into the chair opposite Bodie and behind the desk. "I don't deal with unknowns. What's the name of your boss?"

"He wishes to remain anonymous," answered Bodie. Cowley already had an identity established that should hold up to any immediate inquiries. It just wouldn't stand up to any extensive digging.

"Yeah, well, if he wants to partake of our little service, we need to know who he is," insisted Huntley. "No name, no deal."

Bodie pursed his lips and locked gazes with Huntley. "Stewart Benton."

"Very good," said Huntley, smiling. "We'll check our own sources to verify just how discreet a client he is. Then if everything checks out, the merchandise will be delivered. Providing the price can be met," added Huntley, leaning back in his chair.

"Fifty thousand pounds," said Bodie. The money was Cowley's personal funds. To keep this quiet, they couldn't request money without explaining why they needed it.

Huntley made a disdainful noise. "That's barely half the going rate for a young girl."

"Didn't say anything about a girl." Bodie tried hard not to grit his teeth.

"Girl. Boy. Whatever the gender of the child," shrugged Huntley. "To acquire one who can be easily moulded at such a tender, young age is double your price. You'd need half that amount again of what you're offerin' for a youth in his late teens to very early twenties. At that age, they're still capable of being trained, but it is more difficult. Although the rewards are more immediate, being sexually mature."

"Not a boy," said Bodie, his stomach roiling at the turn the conversation. "A man."

Huntley raised his eyebrows. "Harder to control. Less likely to ever be completely trained and obedience will never be truly assured."

"My boss thrives on challenges," said Bodie. " 'S not like his challenges last for very long."

The underlying meaning hung in the air between them.

"I see," Huntley pursed his lips. "Perhaps we might be able to do business after all. Providing, of course, your employer understands the risks."

Bodie bent his head forward slightly in silent understanding.

"Good. Now then, what is he looking for specifically?" asked Huntley, opening a drawer and pulling out a small notebook. When Bodie didn't answer right away, he looked up. "I mean, any particular hair or eye colour? Is he wanting dark flesh or light? Gotta have some kind of guidelines to go by if he is to get what he wants."

Bodie licked his lips and tried to swallow, his mouth suddenly dry. He couldn't get too specific on describing Doyle, or else the whole thing would be blown. Taking on an air of disinterest with a bit of boredom thrown in, he pretended to recall what "his boss" had said. "Chestnut hair, curly. If it has a bit of reddish highlights, he'd be happy. Green eyes set into a face that isn't too pretty, but not ugly either."

Huntley chuckled as he jotted down a few notes. "Don't deal with the less aesthetic unless its special ordered."

"He doesn't want some pretty poofter that could easily pass as a woman as a man. Doesn't want a broken spirit, he prefers to attain that himself," said Bodie. "Someone with character."

"Character," repeated Huntley, shaking his head. "What about skin tone?"

"Ruddy to light."

"Might take a week or so to fill this," said Huntley, tapping the paper with his finger.

Bodie shook his head. "Not soon enough." They had to push them into handing over Doyle and not some other poor soul that could fit the description.

"It's not like we have a warehouse where we stock up," argued Huntley. "It takes time to acquire what is ordered to such specifications. Besides we don't do business with an unknown. Your boss needs to be checked out."

"Tomorrow, or the deal is off," said Bodie, standing. "Mr. Benton isn't a patient man, and when he wants something, he wants it now." He moved to leave. "Otherwise, he loses interest and will not pursue another deal at a later time."

"Let me see what I can do," hastened Huntley, coming around the desk. "How can I get in touch with you?"

Bodie paused at the doorway and reached into his jacket pocket, withdrawing a slip of paper. "You can contact me at this number." It was Cowley's private line at headquarters. "If I don't hear from you by noon, the deal is off."

"Noon?" repeated Huntley, stuffing the paper into his pocket. "Not sure if I can deliver with such short notice. I'll need at least twenty four hours."

"Noon," repeated Bodie, turning his back and leaving.

---

Doyle groaned and tried to roll over, but the room spun and a wave of nausea washed over him. Flashes of memory played across his closed eyelids. Visions of strangers using him for their own pleasure came and went in distorted images. Yet the ordeal had a surreal quality, as though it happened to someone else entirely. Tentatively shaking his head, he tried to focus on his surroundings.

The room was sparsely furnished, not revealing any clues as to where he was being held. He slowly sat up, looking for anything to cover his nakedness. He reached out to help lever himself to his feet and knocked over the small lamp on the bedside table. The resulting crash was followed by the door swinging open.

"Planning on going somewhere?" The man had a good two inches of height on Doyle and was almost as broad as Bodie.

Blinking against the harsh overhead light, Doyle studied the man. "Kinston," mumbled Doyle, recognizing him as one of the men he had been following.

"I see your brains haven't been completely fucked out of your head," sneered Kinston, folding his arms across his chest. "Then again, there's still time." He stepped into the room, kicking the door shut behind him.

Doyle shifted back on the bed, away from Kinston as he approached him. "Back off, you sick bastard." Whatever drugs they had introduced into his system still had a lingering hold on him.

"I don't think so," grinned Kinston, undoing his belt buckle and pulling the leather free of his trousers.

---

Bodie pulled over to the kerb, as Huntley entered a rundown flat. He picked up his RT and clicked it on. "3.7 to Alpha."

"Go ahead 3.7," came Cowley's immediate response.

"Followed our quarry to his nest," said Bodie, narrowing his eyes as he strained to see in the dark.

"Where are you?" demanded Cowley.

Bodie gave the address, while keeping an eye on the place.

"What about the package?" asked Cowley.

"Unknown," answered Bodie. "I'm just about to go check and see if it's here."

"Be careful, 3.7. We don't want to spook our quarry should the package be stashed somewhere else." They were both careful not to refer to Doyle in any manner, unwilling to chance others overhearing their relay.

---

Huntley headed for the basement of the house. Since the unexpected meeting, he had latched onto the idea of solving two problems at the same time, with the added bonus of making fifty thousand pounds in the process. He noted the empty chair at the card table where Kinston should have been keeping guard and knew exactly where the man would be. He pushed open the door and found Kinston roughly pinning Doyle to the bed, the uncoordinated blows having little effect as Doyle struggled to dislodge his assailant.

"That's enough, Kinston," said Huntley, moving to pull the man off the bed.

"What's the matter with you?" demanded Kinston, pushing Huntley's hands away. "Not like he hasn't been fucked, besides he's already fulfilled his usefulness. Just wanted a repeat performance while he has a bit of fight in 'em."

"He's still worth something," said Huntley, shoving Kinston off balance and onto the floor.

"Yeah, like a good fucking," snarled Kinston, jumping to his feet, ready to retaliate.

"More like fifty thousand pounds," snapped Huntley, checking to make sure Doyle didn't have any serious marks on him from the tussle with Kinston. It wouldn't due to deliver damaged goods.

Doyle rolled away from the exploring hands, kneeling on the floor on the opposite side of the bed. His harsh panting filled the momentary silence in the room as he and Kinston took in what Huntley had said.

"What are you going on about?" asked Kinston, eyeing Huntley before turning his attention back to Doyle.

"Got a buyer for 'im."

"What? You've gone off your rocker!"

"A special order, and 'e fits it," said Huntley, moving around the bed and hauling Doyle to his feet.

"Then we get someone else." Kinston argued.

"No time." Huntley noted the slight glaze in the green eyes. It wouldn't due to let such dangerous merchandise become unmanageable.

"He's CI5, or have you forgotten?"

"I don't think that will matter much," said Huntley, moving around the bed and roughly hauling Doyle back onto it. "I got the impression the client isn't looking for a long term investment." He stepped out of the room to retrieve another syringe of the drug to keep Doyle placid. He picked up the soft, leather bag nestled beside one of the chairs around the card table and readied the drug to be administered.

Doyle suddenly felt cold as the words sunk in. He was to be sold to someone who held a multitude of unknown horrors in store for him. Not bloody likely. He'd rather go out fighting than die at the hands of some sadistic pervert who would get off on killing him.

"We'll be free of him and richer by noon tomorrow," said Huntley re entering the room.

"You know Langley will never clear the deal," argued Kinston.

"This is our own little deal," said Huntley, locking gazes with Kinston. "No one needs to know. They want us to get rid of him, and we are. Just in a different manner than they are assuming. Besides, in the end it'll still be the same. He'll be dead, and we won't have dirtied our hands with his blood, and our pockets will be a little richer."

"Dangerous game you're playing," said Kinston.

"It's a dangerous business," countered Huntley. "We take the risks, why not benefit from them? Now hold 'im."

Kinston had moved to grab Doyle when a loud shot sounded, and pain blossomed from his left shoulder.

Huntley spun around, dropping the syringe and scrambling for his gun in his shoulder holster. When he saw his opponent, he froze for an instant, which was his fatal mistake.

Bodie shot Huntley dead on in the throat, before returning his attention to the wounded Kinston who had his own gun free and was bringing it up to bear on him. He knew he didn't have time to shoot first, and there wasn't enough room for him to dodge out of the way. Bodie braced himself for the inevitable pain that would more than likely bring his own death. He could only hope he had wounded Kinston enough to give Doyle a fighting chance to get out.

The loud recoil filled the room, but the expected impact never came. Swallowing hard in relief, Bodie noticed Doyle had struck Kinston's arm, ruining the man's aim. Unable to get a clear shot with Kinston and Doyle struggling, Bodie moved in to pull the man off his partner.

Strong hands gripped him around the neck as Kinston felt himself being dragged backward. He shifted his attention away from Doyle to the more deadly threat. He brought his arm back viciously, ignoring the flaring pain in his shoulder as he elbowed Bodie in the stomach.

Bodie grunted as the air was knocked out of him, but he refused to relinquish his hold. He stumbled back, pulling Kinston with him as he tripped and fell to the floor. Rolling until Kinston was beneath him, Bodie used his weight as leverage as he snapped Kinston's neck.

Kinston dropped lifelessly to the floor as Bodie rose to his feet. Doyle was draped half on the bed and half off as he tried to push himself back up.

"Easy there," said Bodie, moving beside Doyle and easing him up. "I've got you."

"What are you doin' here?" asked Doyle, unsure whether to be relieved or horrified that it was Bodie who had been the one to come after him. His presence meant that Bodie knew what had happened to him and he wasn't sure he could face the knowing looks that would be directed his way.

" 've come to rescue you," said Bodie, trying to lighten his tone despite the hard lump lodged in his throat. He took in his partner's appearance and wished he could kill these men again. Slowly. He tried to look Doyle over as clinically as he could to see if there were any serious injuries that needed tending to, but other than some slight bruising, he didn't detect any that were visible with Doyle trying to cover himself.

Doyle grunted and curled into a ball, highly aware of his vulnerable state beside his partner. He closed his eyes and tried to distance himself from the humiliation he felt near Bodie. His head spun from the residual drugs that still swam in his system.

Bodie reached out and lightly shook Doyle's shoulder. "C'mon mate, gotta get you outta here." He looked around the room, unable to detect Doyle's clothes anywhere. Instead, he rose from the bed and knelt beside Huntley and started to undress him.

Doyle continued to lie unmoving on the bed, barely registering the muted sounds of cloth rustling.

"Here," said Bodie, leaning over Doyle. He held Huntley's trousers in one hand while he tried to get Doyle to uncurl from his fetal position.

Doyle blinked and his stomach lurched. He knew his options were limited and forced himself to sit up. With Bodie's help he managed to slide the trousers on. The waist was a bit large and hung loosely, catching low on his hips. The ordeal that had put him in this position warred with his self control. He refused to look at Bodie directly, unable to deal with the unspoken questions he was sure to find looking back at him.

Eyeing the blood splattered shirts of the two men, Bodie rejected them. He pulled off his own polo, ignoring the slight chill in the room. Doyle needed it more than he did.

The residual warmth from Bodie's body enveloped him as the heavy polo shirt was tugged over his head. A heavy sigh escaped Doyle as the reassuring scent of his partner wafted up from the comfortable material.

"That's it, Sunshine," soothed Bodie, urging Doyle to stand. He anchored one of Doyle's arms across his shoulders and wrapped his arm around Doyle's waist.

Doyle allowed Bodie to manoeuvre them both out of the room and up the narrow stairs. The spurt of adrenaline in his system was wearing off after the struggles with Kinston as well as the fear of Bodie being killed. With the added effort of climbing the stairs, a stiffness and slight soreness began that was a testament to what had been done to him. He ended up leaning more of his weight on Bodie, trying to ease the discomfort that was starting to radiate from his backside.

Shifting his grip, Bodie half lifted Doyle off his feet, practically carrying him. He hadn't had time to check the rest of the house, but doubted anyone was there. The sound of gunshots would have brought them running to investigate or sent them running in the opposite direction. Either way, he needed to get them safely to the car as quickly as he could. The cool night air hit Doyle in the face as they exited the house. He felt Bodie shiver and tightened his hold on him as they continued toward Bodie's car parked across the street.

Bodie noted Doyle's faltering steps, and the reason came unbidden to him. He clenched his jaw and forced his concentration on helping Doyle into the passenger seat.

A low groan escaped Doyle as he settled into the seat and automatically shifted until his weight rested on a hip.

"Ray?" asked Bodie, worried that Doyle was seriously injured after all.

Doyle could only shake his head, trying to find a comfortable position.

"Do you need a doctor?" persisted Bodie.

"No," hissed Doyle, wishing he could just vanish.

Bodie stood beside him weighing how truthful his partner was being with him.

"I said, I don't need one," snapped Doyle.

Biting his lower lip, Bodie backed off, closing the car door and hurrying over to the driver side. He slipped behind the wheel, giving Doyle's pale face a quick glance. "Okay."

Doyle twitched when Bodie reached over and snagged the mike.

Bodie noted the involuntary jerk and paused before engaging the mike. He took a deep breath to release the tension that had been building inside since learning about Doyle's disappearance. "3.7 to Alpha."

"This is Alpha," came Cowley's immediate response.

"I've retrieved the package," said Bodie as he resisted the urge to brush Doyle's hair back from his face. "Quarry and associate are no longer a problem."

"I see," said Cowley. There was no hint of surprise in his voice, nor the usual edge of irritation that those he had sent Bodie after were dead. "Is medical attention required?"

"Not at this time," said Bodie, eyeing Doyle.

"Very well. Leave the clean up to others, and meet me where we agreed." With the favours he had due him, it was times like these that he was grateful he could call some of them in.

"On our way." Bodie started the car aware of the heavy silence that came from beside him. He steered through the dark streets and out of the city, aware of Cowley's suspicion that Doyle would bolt should the opportunity present itself. He tensed at each traffic light that he had to stop at, half expecting Doyle to try and run.

Doyle stared out the passenger side window, only partially registering the view. His awareness was mostly focused on Bodie beside him. He could only imagine what must be going through his partner's head. It was one thing to be told your partner had been assaulted, quite another to have visual proof of the act.

After almost an hour of steady driving, Bodie finally pulled in front of a small house. Cowley's car was already there and lights were on inside.

"Safe house?" inquired Doyle as he recognized the place. It wasn't a location they used very often, too far out of reach for their boss' liking.

"Cowley's orders," said Bodie, shivering as he climbed out of the car. The breeze had picked up, and the cold air chilled his bare skin. He darted around to the passenger side and opened the door, reaching out a hand to help Doyle.

"I'm not a bloody invalid," said Doyle, swatting Bodie's offered hand away. He pulled himself to his feet, biting down on the inside of his cheek to keep any sign of discomfort off his face.

"Never said you were," replied Bodie, moving to give Doyle room to stand. He closed the door and caught Doyle just as he stumbled stepping up on the kerb. "I've got you."

Doyle stiffened, ready to push Bodie away.

"Wouldn't do to let you fall down, now would it? Cowley'd have my hide if I got you this far then you went and hurt yourself, especially with some witch's concoction running in your veins. Let's get inside where it's warm," suggested Bodie, ignoring the tension in Doyle's slender frame.

Bodie's words sunk in, and Doyle finally understood how Bodie could still tolerate being around him. Being drugged and fucked by men was quite different from voluntarily wanting to be fucked by men. Evidently his secret was still safe and this entire nightmare might just be buried behind them.

The front door swung open just as they approached it. Cowley stood off to one side as his agents moved past him and inside. He took a quick look up and down the street before once again closing and locking the door.

Bodie eased Doyle down onto the settee then turned to stoke the fire burning in the fireplace. He added a bit more wood before standing and facing their boss.

"There's tea in the kitchen, Bodie. Why don't you go fix us all a cuppa," suggested Cowley, his attention on Doyle. "And get a shirt from the bedroom while you're at it."

Bodie spared a look toward Doyle before moving to the adjoining bedroom to sort through the assortment of clothes normally kept for spur of the moment occupation of the house.

"Are you alright, lad?" asked Cowley, moving to sit in the chair opposite his man.

"Of course," came Doyle's quick reply. "All in the line of duty, innit?"

Cowley shook his head, his lips pressed tightly together. "No tisn't." He needed to get Doyle to turn his focus outward and not inward where he would eventually drown in a sea of self reproach.

"No need to worry that I'll be unfit for duty, Sir," said Doyle, his voice shifting into sarcasm at the end.

"Oh, I'm not worried about you," said Cowley, folding his hands neatly in his lap and waiting for the reaction he was expecting. "I'm worried about Bodie."

"What?" Doyle's head shot up, and he finally looked at Cowley directly.

"You're trained to be observant, yet you are completely blind when it comes to your partner," sighed Cowley. Despite the ordeal that Doyle had gone through, he had to be the one to pursue the situation to its inevitable conclusion. Without resolution between them, the partnership would disintegrate after recent events. By having Doyle's attention diverted to his partner, he just might find the road to healing that he would need.

"How does what happened to me have anything to do with Bodie?" demanded Doyle.

Cowley took a deep breath and let it out slowly, meeting Doyle's gaze steadily.

Bodie emerged from the bedroom, buttoning a shirt that fit rather snug. He paused before heading into the kitchen, feeling the very air in the living room crackle with tension. "Doyle?"

"He's fine, 3.7. Please get the tea," said Cowley, his eyes still focused on Doyle's.

Bodie looked over at Doyle, who gave a faint nod, his own gaze locked with Cowley.

Hesitating to leave, Bodie reluctantly walked out of the room, turning once to look over his shoulder.

"I don't know what you're talking about," said Doyle, once Bodie was out of hearing.

"Exactly my point," said Cowley. "You've always had the corner market on guilt, Doyle, but when it comes to anything happening to you, Bodie gives you a run for your money."

Doyle shook his head in confusion. How could Bodie feel this was his fault? It's not like Bodie had failed to watch his back. Considering he wasn't even on assignment with him in the first place, there was no logical way Bodie could blame himself for what happened.

"Open your eyes, man," Cowley practically hissed. "It doesn't matter whether Bodie could have prevented what was done to you, he will still think he failed you."

"That's ridiculous," said Doyle, looking at Cowley as though he had lost his mind.

"Is it?" countered Cowley. "I've seen a multitude of pairings in this line of work, and the two of you are in an entire league of your own. What the two of you share is more than just a working relationship, and it goes further than just mere friendship."

"Why don't you just come out and say whatever it is you're meaning," said Doyle. He felt his insides clench at the thought that Cowley might possibly know how he truly felt for Bodie.

"You'll both have to discover that for yourselves," said Cowley. "If your partnership is to survive past this, the two of you will have to do so on your own." Bodie stepped back into the room, carrying a tray. "The kitchen's stocked. Are you hungry?" He asked Doyle as he placed the tray on the small table.

Doyle shook his head, taking a hard look at his partner, trying to see what Cowley was talking about. He accepted the hot tea automatically, watching Bodie's efficient movements.

Bodie stopped in mid motion as he noted the intense gaze of his partner staring directly at him. Blinking and looking away, he continued to pour the tea.

"No thank you, Bodie," said Cowley when Bodie held out a cup to him. "I'd best be getting back. As far as anyone needs to know, the two of you are on assignment for an undetermined amount of time."

"Sir?" Bodie straightened as Cowley stood and moved toward the front door.

"I don't wish to see either of you until you're both back up to speed," said Cowley, pinning them both with a stern look. He placed his hat on his head, taking a long look at his two agents. If there was any hope of saving this partnership, it had to come from them. He had given them what he could to help start the healing process, but it would be up to them to see it through.

"What was all that about?" asked Bodie, staring at the closed the door.

"What was all what about?" asked Doyle, taking a sip of his tea.

"What did the Cow say to you?" Bodie turned around and eyed Doyle.

Doyle shrugged, darting a quick look in Bodie's direction. "The usual. That none of this was our fault, and we shouldn't carry the blame."

"It wasn't your fault," agreed Bodie, taking the seat Cowley had been sitting in. A darkness settled over his features as he stared at some invisible point in front of him. If he had been there to watch Doyle's back like he should have been, none of this would have happened in the first place.

"Only about as much as it is yours," said Doyle, suddenly seeing what Cowley had been saying.

Bodie opened his mouth to protest, but stopped when Doyle held up his hand.

"Look. I really don't want to deal with this right now," said Doyle, placing his cup down on the table. "I just want a bath and sleep." He moved to stand up and caught himself. The uncomfortable ache that had settled down had immediately flared back up.

"Stay there," ordered Bodie, quickly gaining his feet. He hurried out of the room and into the bathroom, gathering together towels and toiletries from the small closet. The feelings of guilt mixed with anger bubbled to the surface at what had happened to his Ray. He stopped in mid motion of plugging the tub at that last thought. His Ray. He had always felt protective of his partner, and if he was going to be honest, had considered him as his own. Shaking his head, he turned on the water and adjusted the temperature. As he filled the small tub, the memory of his own aborted bath came to mind. He'd have his own turn once Doyle was settled for the night.

Doyle turned his attention inward, wondering about the underlying meaning of Cowley's talk. Cowley all but said that his and Bodie's relationship was closer than what others would consider normal, but if Bodie knew in what directions his feelings truly travelled, he wouldn't be so conciliatory toward him. Or would he? That line of thought opened up a whole avenue of possibilities that he had never dared to play with before.

"All ready," announced Bodie, coming up to stand in front of Doyle.

Lost in thought, Doyle hadn't heard the water shut off and jumped when Bodie suddenly appeared before him.

"Sorry," said Bodie, berating himself for spooking Doyle.

"S'okay," said Doyle, dispelling the direction his train of thoughts had been leading.

"Let me give you a hand," offered Bodie, reaching down to help Doyle stand.

"I think I can manage," said Doyle as Bodie followed him to the bathroom.

Bodie took a step back. "Just yell if you need me."

---

Doyle listened as Bodie took his turn at washing up. He lay on his side, the covers pulled up to his chin as he allowed his mind to wander back to its previous musings.

Bodie walked into the bedroom, the smell of clean soap wafting around him. "Just going to grab a pillow and extra blankets," explained Bodie, opening the drawer of the armoire and collecting the extra bedding.

Doyle noted the dark circles under Bodie's eyes, and it wasn't until then he remembered that Bodie had been on his own assignment and probably hadn't had any decent rest himself. "You won't get any rest on that settee."

"It pulls out into a bed," reminded Bodie, picking up the extra pillow next to Doyle.

"You're being generous," said Doyle, raising himself up on his elbows. "More like a torture device."

"I'll be alright," assured Bodie. "Do you need anything before I turn in?"

"Yeah," answered Doyle, before he really thought about it.

Bodie waited.

"Uh, never mind," said Doyle, changing his mind.

"Go on," urged Bodie, willing to do anything to help Doyle.

Doyle studied his partner, seeing the need to help in some way. "You'll think I'm daft."

"No, I won't. Tell me."

"Could you stay here with me?" Doyle lifted his chin, half expecting Bodie to bolt out of the room.

"You sure?" Bodie's heart skipped a beat, and he had to restrain himself from rushing to the bed to climb in. It wouldn't due to rattle Doyle with his eagerness to be close. "Don't want to stir up any bad nightmares."

"You won't," said Doyle. "I think having you close will drive away any nightmares that my subconscious will try to throw at me."

"If you're sure," said Bodie, replacing his pillow back on the bed. "Let me double check the locks and I'll be back."

Faster than Doyle expected, Bodie was back in the room, pulling back the covers and climbing in beside him. "Thanks, Bodie."

"Anytime, Sunshine." Bodie turned out the bedside lamp and settled down, mindful to keep his distance.

Doyle turned over to lie facing Bodie. "You're going to fall out if you're not careful."

Bodie had moved as close to the edge as possible, afraid that Doyle would feel threatened if he did what he really wanted, which was to cuddle him close. "Don't want to crowd you... considerin'... "

"I don't really remember the ordeal to be truthful," said Doyle. "Just flashes of memory, like it was happening to someone else. Must 'ave been the drugs they pumped into me. I figure you have a better idea what they did than I do. I remember the camera going off, and I can feel the aftermath of what they did, but I don't remember it. Does that make any sense? "

Bodie bit his lower lip and nodded. "Yeah, it does." He shifted slightly closer, lessening the threat of rolling off the bed.

Silence filled the darkness until Doyle's whispered voice drifted toward Bodie. "Thanks for coming to get me."

Bodie opened his eyes and studied his partner. "You'd have done the same for me, mate."

The truth of Bodie's words closed a little of the distance that had been present between them, allowing them both to drift off to sleep.

---

The room was still dark when Doyle woke. The shutters over the window blocked the brightness of day from shining in the room. He was alone in bed, but the muted noise of Bodie in the small kitchen drifted to him.

Bracing himself, he sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. The deep ache he had expected was subdued. Sighing in relief, he stood and wandered out of the bedroom. He took a side trip to the bathroom to relieve himself before heading to the kitchen.

"Didn't mean to wake you," said Bodie when he saw Doyle.

"You didn't," said Doyle, moving to the coffee pot and pouring himself a cup.

"Hungry?" Bodie placed the pan on the stove.

"A little."

Doyle watched as Bodie moved around the kitchen putting together breakfast. He accepted his plate, his stomach growling. "Guess I'm hungrier than I thought," he said as Bodie gave him a smirk at the loud rumble.

"There's plenty," said Bodie, turning back to fix his own plate.

They ate in silence, each sneaking quick glances at the other. Bodie cleaned up as Doyle moved into the living room.

With the dishes done, there wasn't anything to keep Bodie in the kitchen. He tossed the dish rag on the counter and went to join Doyle in the living room. He found his partner curled up on the settee with a book.

Doyle looked up from the page he had been staring at since he opened the book. "There's really no reason we have to stay here."

Bodie quirked an eyebrow and sat down across from him.

"I'm moving a lot better and I should be back up to snuff in a day or two," continued Doyle, wanting to get back to his flat and consider his next move. While Bodie had been cleaning up after breakfast, he had had time to think. If Bodie and Cowley knew what had happened to him, then it only led to reason everyone would eventually know, despite Cowley's comment that the others would think he and Bodie were on assignment to explain their absence. He couldn't face the looks he was sure to get from the other agents. He could picture the sympathetic reactions... and the disgusted ones, of his fellow agents.

"Not sure I'm ready to go back just yet," said Bodie, settling back in the chair.

"Oh? Is that the way it is then?" snapped Doyle, anger coming to his defence. Bodie wouldn't want to be associated with him after this. Cowley was wrong. Bodie's sense of failing to protect him wasn't from any feelings Bodie might have for him, but for his own sense of failing at his duty. The disgrace would also reflect on Bodie as his partner.

"What do you mean by that?" said Bodie, his own temper rising. "I think there's some issues you, we, need to deal with."

"We? What happened didn't happen to you, Bodie. So don't even try... "

"What happened didn't just affect you, Ray," interrupted Bodie.

"Funny, I don't remember you bein' there," glared Doyle, as heat reddened his cheeks.

"I should have been," got out Bodie. "You can't just pretend that what they did to you didn't affect you, because it sure as hell did!" Bodie was practically shouting.

"Fine! You want me to admit that what they did to me screwed me up? Alright! It did, damn you!" Doyle had jumped to his feet, the forgotten book falling to the floor. "Is that what you want to hear? Are you happy now?"

"No," choked out Bodie, gaining his own feet. "God, Ray. How can you think I'd be happy that they raped you?"

Doyle paled at Bodie's words. He had always shied away from the term, shielding himself from the true horror of the act by not giving it a name.

"Don't let what happened come between us, Ray," said Bodie, lowering his voice. His emotions were still running high, and he decided to go for broke. "You're still my best mate, my partner. Don't want to lose our friendship, either. Just because you aren't a stranger to being with another man, doesn't lessen the impact of what was done."

Doyle stiffened. "Cowley told you."

"About you liking blokes?" Bodie cocked his head to the side, trying to present an unthreatening pose.

"Yeah, about me liking blokes," spat Doyle, averting his face. He should have known he couldn't keep it a secret from Bodie forever. He just never expected it to come out by way of Cowley.

"Yeah, he told me. He also told me that you just might decide to do a vanishing act," admitted Bodie.

Doyle's eyes narrowed, his mind reeling at how well Cowley could read him. That was exactly what he had been thinking.

"Don't let them succeed," said Bodie, taking a small step closer. "Don't let them take you away from me."

Doyle's breath caught and his gaze sharpened.

Bodie waited, hoping Doyle would see what he was finding difficult to say.

The barriers that Bodie had always maintained suddenly fell away, and Doyle saw the deep desperation reflected in blue eyes that looked back. "Bodie?"

"I'm still here." Hope sparked and Bodie willed Doyle to meet him half way.

Doyle took a hesitant step forward, uncertain if he was reading the situation correctly.

The small gesture was the catalyst that broke Bodie's reserves. He closed the distance between them and hugged Doyle tight.

Doyle's instinct was to push Bodie away, but the strong arms that encircled him held him firmly in their embrace. With his heart hammering in his chest, he slowly brought his own arms up to hug Bodie back.

Feeling Doyle hugging him helped Bodie ease his crushing hold. He continued to hold on as he buried his face against Doyle's neck, his muscles suddenly weak with relief that Doyle hadn't rejected him.

Doyle shifted his balance as Bodie rested more of his weight against him.

Suddenly Bodie pulled back.

"What?" asked Doyle, quickly shuttering his emotions.

"Didn't think," was all Bodie said.

"Yeah, guess you didn't," said Doyle, turning away and picking up the book. He should have realized it was too good to be true. "Forget it, Bodie. Not your fault I'm not good enough for you." Doyle needed to get out of the house. He needed time to build an impregnable wall around his heart.

"Huh?" Bodie's mouth dropped open.

"Look, I'll be back," said Doyle, tossing the book on the settee and striding toward the front door.

Bodie moved fast, grabbing Doyle by the arm and stopping him. "What the 'ell are you going on about?"

"Just leave off, Bodie," sighed Doyle, suddenly too tired to fight it out with Bodie.

"No, I won't," said Bodie, searching Doyle's face. "Why are you shutting me out? I didn't imagine you hugging me back."

"No, you didn't," sighed Doyle. "But you were the one who suddenly pulled away."

"Bloody right, I did. Didn't think before leaning my weight on you," explained Bodie. "You don't need the added strain of keeping us both on our feet."

"Then you weren't changing your mind?" asked Doyle.

"Change me mind? Not likely," smiled Bodie. "There's nothing that could change the way I feel about you."

"How do you feel about me?" pressed Doyle, unwilling to take a chance of misunderstanding Bodie again.

"Thought it was obvious," grinned Bodie, raising his eyebrows.

"Tell me anyhow," insisted Doyle.

"Won't be satisfied until I do, huh?" Doyle shook his head.

"There's no one else I care about as much as I do you," admitted Bodie. "You mean more to me than me own life."

For Bodie, that was as close to an admission of love as Doyle had ever heard. "You love me," whispered Doyle.

Shrugging self consciously, Bodie nodded. He had just put himself on the line without a safety net. Doyle hadn't mentioned his own feelings, should he have any for Bodie.

"How long?" asked Doyle.

"Why?"

"Because I'm curious if you've been in love with me as long as I've been in love with you," said Doyle, breaking into a smile.

Bodie let out the breath he had been holding and laughed, tugging Doyle into another hug. "We're a pair, aren't we?"

"Yeah, a pair of nutters," chuckled Doyle as Bodie let out a loud sigh of relief that sounded more like a giggle.

Bodie tilted his head and slowly pressed his lips against Doyle's. Softness yielded to him, and he deepened the kiss.

Warmth spread through Doyle as he pressed against Bodie, feeling safe for the first time since he had been freed.

Reluctantly, Bodie broke the kiss, resting his forehead against Doyle's.

"Bed?" Doyle asked.

"Not too soon?" Bodie didn't want to push things with Doyle.

"Been waiting for what seems like forever already," answered Doyle.

"But what about... " trailed off Bodie.

"A part of me still feels like it happened to someone else," hedged Doyle.

"Yet it still happened to you," finished Bodie.

Doyle nodded and back walked toward the bedroom, pulling Bodie with him. "Help me put it to rest, Bodie. Give me something else to replace the memories with."

The enormity of what Doyle was asking of him hit him, and Bodie almost stumbled. How could he give Doyle what he was asking for when he had never done this before?

Doyle had his shirt pulled off when he noticed Bodie was simply standing there. "Bodie?"

"Ray... I, that is, uh," Bodie stammered. "I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't," said Doyle, moving toward Bodie and cupping his face. "I'll be okay. Just go slow, okay?"

"Slow won't be a problem," swallowed Bodie. "Considerin' I have no fucking idea what to do."

Doyle blinked. "You tellin' me you've never done this?"

Bodie shook his head, feeling the blush on his cheeks.

Doyle's grin lit up his face. "It'll be fine. We'll both go slow." The knowledge that Bodie was inexperienced overshadowed his own insecurities. He undid his jeans and shimmied out of them, to stand before Bodie completely nude.

Bodie took in the proud stance of his friend, his body reacting as he quickly divested himself of his own clothes without thinking too much.

Doyle guided Bodie onto the bed and settled beside him, lightly running a hand over the smooth chest. He could feel the shivers running through Bodie and wanted to ease him. "You can touch me if you want."

Bodie raised a hand and ran it down Doyle's hair covered chest. His eyes widened as he watched the twin peaks of Doyle's nipples hardened. He trailed his fingers to lightly brush over the sensitive nubs. His concentration was broken when his own nipples were tweaked in turn.

The gasp of pleasure encouraged Doyle to move his hand further down, dipping his fingers in Bodie's belly button. He studied the proud column that strained upward for his touch. The rosy tip leaked its pearly fluid in testament to Bodie's excitement. Leaning over his lover, Doyle captured Bodie's lips in a demanding kiss as his hand snaked down and encircled Bodie's cock.

The firm grip shot pleasure from his groin to his heart, and Bodie couldn't help bucking upward as Doyle started to pump up and down. He wrapped his arms tightly around Doyle and pulled him down until his weight rested on him. A low groan escaped him as Doyle shifted until he was cradled between Bodie's legs.

Doyle removed his hand from Bodie's cock, allowing his own aching desire to slide beside its mate. The simple act of frottage would satisfy him, especially when it was with Bodie, but his intentions of increasing the speed and strength of his thrusts were halted.

"Want more," gasped Bodie, straining not to continue undulating against the solid strength of his lover.

"What do you want?" panted Doyle, letting his head drop and rest on Bodie's shoulder.

"I want it all," answered Bodie.

Doyle lifted his head. "Okay." He untangled himself from Bodie's hold and climbed out of bed.

"Where are you going?" demanded Bodie, half sitting up.

"Got to get something to help," answered Doyle, hurrying out of the bedroom.

Bodie flopped back on the bed, in the dark as to what Doyle could possibly be getting.

"This should work," announced Doyle, scrambling back on the bed, holding a bottle of olive oil.

Bodie eyed the bottle. "Plannin' on making a salad?"

"Plannin' on makin' love," said Doyle, kissing Bodie. "Can't just go stabbing inside without preparing the way, mate."

"Oh." A lump formed in Bodie's throat as Doyle handed him the bottle.

Doyle saw the way Bodie stared at the bottle of oil. "All you need to do is use your fingers to stretch me openin' and spread the oil inside," he explained.

"Think it would be best if you did the drivin'," said Bodie, handing the bottle back to Doyle. "Considerin' you know what you're doin'."

Doyle lifted his eyebrows in surprise. He had figured since this was Bodie's first time, he would want to be the pitcher instead of the receiver. Searching Bodie's face, he finally nodded. "Okay. How do you want to do this?"

"Not really keen on lyin' on me back like a woman," said Bodie, barely above a whisper.

Doyle snorted and grinned. "There's no mistakin' you for a bird, Bodie. Trust me." He set the bottle aside and reached down, encircling Bodie's engorged cock. The movement was rewarded by Bodie arching his hips up off the bed. He covered the resulting gasp with an intense kiss.

Bodie felt a momentary twinge as Doyle took command, covering him with his body and running his hands over his chest and side. But the fact that Doyle might need to feel in control after what he had been through eased his misgivings.

Doyle continued to slide his hand up and down the hard shaft, rubbing his thumb over the tip with each upward movement. It was his turn to gasp as Bodie took him in hand, matching his slow and steady pumping.

The feel of another's man cock in his hand felt strange, but exciting, especially when the other man was Doyle.

Doyle scooted down, marking a path down Bodie's neck to his nipples. The movement caused Bodie to release his hold on his cock, and he felt a sense of loss from the intimate touch. The knowledge that he would be surrounded by Bodie made up for the temporary denial. He lathed each hard nipple in turn with his tongue, sucking lightly. He could feel Bodie responding to his touches, and he moved his hand further down, cupping the firm ovals that were tucked up tight.

Bodie ran his hands up and down Doyle's back, enjoying the sensations that Doyle gifted him with his mouth and hands. His eyes flew open as Doyle shifted and warm, moist heat engulfed him.

Doyle swirled his tongue over the leaking crown of Bodie's cock, unable to suppress the grin as Bodie jerked in surprise. He slipped his hands between the mattress and Bodie's cheeks, encouraging him to thrust into his mouth. Using the tips of his fingers, he lightly traced the sensitive skin between the firm cheeks he cradled.

Bodie arched his head back, widening his legs to Doyle's loving. The familiar tingle started in his groin and he gasped. "Close, Ray."

Doyle lifted his head and stilled his hands. "Roll over."

Bodie tensed, but did as requested. He settled on his stomach, hugging a pillow close.

Doyle rubbed Bodie's back, trying to ease Bodie's tension. "We don't have to."

"We don't have to, but like I said, I want it all, Ray." Bodie lowered his head and bent his knee, giving Doyle permission to continue.

Accepting Bodie's decision and his own desire, Doyle picked up the bottle of olive oil and coated his fingers. "You only need to say stop and I will," assured Doyle, leaning forward and placing a kiss on each lily white cheek.

The feel of Doyle's lips kissing him on the arse eased the tension that had gripped Bodie. That simple act reminded him that it was Doyle, the one person who would never harm him.

Gently, Doyle parted the smooth mounds, revealing the tiny opening to him. He lightly ran a single finger over the sensitive area. The small rose bud contracted as he felt a shiver run through Bodie. Taking his time, he rubbed the pad of his finger in circles over the entrance to Bodie's body, encouraging his lover to relax and let him enter.

When immediate penetration didn't happen, Bodie gradually relaxed, enjoying the intimate touch.

Doyle watched as the tiny portal relaxed under his finger. He added a little pressure, and the tip of his finger slipped inside. When no resistance was met, he pushed a little further inside.

"S'nice," murmured Bodie, as Doyle moved in and out, spreading the slick oil inside him.

"I'm gonna start stretching you, Sunshine," said Doyle, removing his hand to apply more oil. As he pushed two fingers inside the tight passage, he leaned forward and kissed between Bodie's shoulder blades.

The added thickness of two fingers caused a jolt of excitement to course through Bodie, and he pushed back on them. "Feels good."

"It'll get better," chuckled Doyle, moving his fingers in and out. He pushed further inside, searching for the magic spot to make Bodie squirm. He knew he hit it when Bodie jumped and let out a startled shout.

Bodie shoved backward, wanting to experience the pleasure that shot through him.

Taking the opportunity, Doyle introduced three fingers into Bodie.

The slight ache slowed Bodie from immediately impaling himself on Doyle's fingers.

Doyle wiggled his fingers, seeking the small nub that would overshadow the discomfort that Bodie was feeling. Finding it, he rubbed over the protrusion as Bodie slowly loosened up for him.

When Doyle removed his fingers, Bodie couldn't suppress the groan of disappointment.

"Raise yourself on your knees," said Doyle, quickly applying oil to his neglected cock.

Bodie did as Doyle asked, bracing himself with his arms.

"It might hurt at the beginning," said Doyle, lining himself up. "It'll pass and get better, I promise. But if you want me to stop at any time, you just say so and we stop."

Bodie looked over his shoulder. "I want you and everything you can give me."

Doyle curled over Bodie's back and kissed him. "I want you, too, luv." He nuzzled the back of Bodie's neck as he cherished the moment.

The sharp pain caught Bodie by surprise as Doyle entered him.

"Okay?" asked Doyle.

Bodie nodded, despite the second thoughts that were running through his head as Doyle's cock breached his opening.

"Take it slow and easy," soothed Doyle as he continued to press home.

They both sighed in relief when Doyle was completely flush against Bodie.

"You tell me when you're ready," said Doyle, wrapping his arms around Bodie's torso. He reached for Bodie's lax cock, stroking it and fondling the heavy sacs.

The pain of being stretched eased, and Bodie tentatively pushed into Doyle's hand then back on the cock impaling him. The movement caused Doyle to brush over his prostate, and his cock hardened further as Doyle continued to pump him.

"Move," gasped Bodie, caught between the dual sensations as he rocked his hips forward and back.

That was all Doyle needed to hear, and he pulled back before sliding back inside. The resulting groan of pleasure encouraged him to move faster.

The initial burning faded, and Bodie could feel his orgasm build. He arched his head back as he was swept away in the maelstrom of pleasure.

Doyle continued to fist Bodie's erection as his cock was gripped in a pulsating rhythm, setting off his own climax.

Together, they collapsed on the bed, their harsh panting the only sound above the thundering of their hearts.

Bodie grunted as Doyle withdrew. Turning his head, he looked at Doyle who shifted to lie beside him.

Doyle opened his eyes and found blue eyes watching him. "Are you alright?" he asked as he stretched an arm and a leg across Bodie and hugged him close.

"Yeah," whispered Bodie. "You?"

Doyle nodded.

"But are we alright?" insisted Bodie.

Doyle's mouth tightened, and he rolled away and onto his back. "You mean work."

Bodie continued to watch Doyle with worried eyes.

"I can't lie to you, Bodie," said Doyle, looking at him. "I'm not sure I can face the others with them knowing what happened."

Bodie lifted his head in surprise. "They don't know. Only Cowley and myself. Why do you think the cavalry coming to your rescue was only me?"

Doyle shrugged. "They might not know right now, but they will. You know how it is, they'll sense something is going on and won't be satisfied until they know what it is."

"Let me take care of it," said Bodie, darting forward and kissing Doyle.

Doyle eyed Bodie then nodded slightly.

"Good," grinned Bodie. "Now then, how long do you think we can stay here before Cowley comes looking for us?"

---

A week later, the two men walked into headquarters. They ignored the curious glances directed their way as they headed for Cowley's office.

Cowley was sitting behind his desk as his top agents entered his office. "It's about damn time the two of you decided to show up." Inside, he was relieved to see them, but it wouldn't due to let it show.

"Had to sort things out," said Bodie, unconsciously moving to stand between Cowley and Doyle.

"I trust everything is back to normal then?" asked Cowley, steepling his fingers as he studied them.

"As normal as they are for us, Sir," said Doyle, moving to stand beside Bodie.

Cowley continued to watch them, the body language confirmed that the partnership was still intact. Finally he nodded slowly. "Good. That will be all for now." He turned his attention back to the stack of papers he had been working on.

"Uh, Sir?" ventured Doyle.

"Yes? What is it?" demanded Cowley.

"About the organization I was pursuing... ," Doyle swallowed against the lump that had suddenly formed in his throat.

Cowley closed the file and took off his glasses. "It's been taken care of. It seems while the mess at the house was being cleaned up, others of the flesh trade organization showed up and were apprehended. It is in the hands of the police now, since they were the ones present when they arrived."

"The police?" Bodie knew Cowley was calling in favours, but it hadn't occurred to him that Cowley would have the Metro in his pocket. He had thought it would have been some other organization like theirs that Cowley would have called in to dispose of the bodies.

"Yes, Bodie. Is there a problem with that?"

"No Sir," said Bodie and Doyle together.

"Then I suggest you both get out of here and let me get back to work."

They quickly left Cowley's office and headed for the rest room where their fellow agents were waiting for them.

"Well, look who's back," said Murphy, his feet propped up on the table. "Was starting to wonder where you two disappeared to all of a sudden."

"Miss me?" asked Bodie, while Doyle detoured to pour them each a cuppa.

"Always," smirked Murphy. "You know how I feel about you, darlin'."

"Sorry, mate. I'm already taken," grinned Bodie. "And he's not one to share."

Doyle stared at Bodie who simply took the offered cup of tea and draped an arm across his shoulders.

"Well it's about time," chuckled Murphy, raising his own cup in salute.

None of them noticed the figure turn away from the doorway as they settled into the familiar camaraderie that existed between the agents.

Cowley opened the folder that had been sitting on his desk and updated the personal file with what he had always suspected but hadn't had proof until now. How this new development affected his top team, only time would tell. But the alternative was not acceptable, because the undercurrent that had existed before would have eventually torn them apart.

Satisfied that things would be fine for now, Cowley filed away the paperwork and turned off the lamp on his desk. He shrugged on his coat and settled his hat on his head, his mind trying to figure out a way to get his two agents to reside in the same flat so he could cut down on unnecessary expenses.

-- THE END --

Originally published in Secret Agent Men, AngelWings Press, 2002