Ray Doyle sighed and glanced at his watch. Chuckling as he realized that no one had interrupted them for an entire hour, he was nonetheless pleased to see it was finally 11:30 a.m.; time for lunch. The idea of eating made him shift his gaze to the dark-haired man sitting nearby, bent over the desk, his thoughts obviously lost in the contents of the file he was perusing. In the last hour, Doyle noted with another sigh, Bodie had searched ten files, while he'd made it through exactly one page of one report. The lusty speculations that had instead occupied his mind returned as Doyle squirmed, seeking a comfortable position to relieve the tightness in his crotch.

Coming off all-night surveillance, Bodie was wonderfully scruffy looking with a day old growth of beard. His velvety soft hair crept down the high forehead and curled seductively over the back of his shirt collar. The snugly fitting brown cords, the white shirt with its embroidered brown design and the rust-colored leather jacket that wrinkled suggestively with every movement, made Doyle, for only the thousandth time in the last hour, want to unbutton that shirt one button at a time and kiss the warm, smooth flesh underneath. Licking his lips as his mind summoned the taste of that satiny skin stretched taut over firm muscle, Doyle fidgeted, fighting off the shiver of longing that ran through him. His thoughts, however, continued to drift, taking him to each of the pinkish nipples, crowned in response to his tongue and teeth.

The sound of footsteps in the corridor roused him; he tensed slightly, waiting for the door to their cubicle to open. When it didn't, he sighed once more, cursing himself for his restlessness, his uncharacteristic inattentiveness this morning. There was no doubt about it, he was in love and the glow had still not worn off. He just hoped it didn't show, that his occasional lapses would pass unnoticed. It wasn't a problem generally, but there were quiet instances such as this, when he was tired; all he could focus on then was Bodie.

They'd become lovers six months ago, and still Doyle couldn't keep his hands off his partner's body, couldn't, in unguarded moments, stop daydreaming about him. Nor, he thought as a smile stole onto his lips, could he stop smiling. He had fallen hard for Bodie and Bodie seemed to have fallen for him with equal vehemence. Doyle was still afraid he'd waken to find it was only a potent wet dream of unrealized longing.

Bodie, oblivious to Doyle's lack of concentration, glanced over at his partner. He smiled at his lover and looked down at the first page of a new report, intent, for once, upon his work.

Nodding to himself as an idea struck, Doyle picked up his purple pen and hastily scrawled a note, "Time for lunch, sunshine, and I fancy you." He folded the paper into a neat airplane and deftly sent it sailing toward his absorbed lover. Pleased when it landed on top of the page Bodie was reading, Doyle smiled once more.

Without looking over, Bodie carefully unfolded the message. As he read the unmistakable scribble of Raymond Doyle, he felt himself blushing slightly. He was not accustomed to such aggressive pursuit, never mind that he himself had courted women with equally strong tactics. Doyle's desire for him, expressed in the oddest ways at the most unexpected moments, still unnerved him.

Delighted to have caught Bodie off guard, Doyle was about to comment when Cowley entered their tiny room. The blue-grey eyes were drawn unerringly to the purple-penned note. For a wild moment, after Cowley had read the words, when his flinty gaze was then fixed on Bodie, Doyle hoped justice would be served and his partner would be blamed for something Doyle had done rather than the more typical reverse. The handwriting was a dead giveaway, however, and Doyle saw his boss turn toward him.

Deciding to confront Cowley, Doyle looked the man in the eye. The amusement he detected surprised him. Covertly, he glanced over to see if Bodie had witnessed the same expression. The relationship between the two agents was not common knowledge, and they were still concerned that if Cowley were presented with hard evidence, he'd be forced to fire them. And though Bodie was CI5's acknowledged "Cowley expert," even he would not predict what the man's reaction would be. They were, Doyle realized suddenly, about to find out.

"Not enough to keep that fertile brain busy, eh, Doyle?" Cowley queried, clearly contrasting the large stack of Bodie's discards with the lone file in front of Doyle.

"He's been helpin' me out, sir," Bodie interjected. "Had a rather lot of questions about police procedure, I did and Doyle here...."

Cowley shook his head, cutting off the defense-of-Doyle speech. As he eyed the two men watching him, waiting expectantly for his response to an unvoiced question, he sighed softly. It was not within him to deny them their one slim chance for happiness. Smiling slightly, he looked at Bodie.

The two men stared at one another for several moments. "Guess the small print does affect me, sir," Bodie said pointedly to his boss.

Snorting at what was obviously a private joke, Cowley commanded, "My office in one hour. We'll go over anything you might have learned about police procedure, Bodie." His words were directed toward the dark-haired agent, but the blue-grey eyes were focused on Doyle. "Shred this yourself," he instructed, picking up the suggestive note and handing it to its author. Turning, the CI5 controller walked out of the room, closing the door behind him.

"What the fuck was that all about?" Doyle began immediately, looking from his paper airplane to his partner.***

"The benevolent smile," Bodie announced cheerfully, smiling at Doyle's frown of puzzlement. "Ann Holly..." he prompted, disliking the woman as much today as he had then.

Remembering what Bodie had later told him, Doyle blurted out, "He approves?"

"Probably not," Bodie replied thoughtfully, considering a moment before continuing, "but he's not ready to chuck us out, either."

Accepting the expert assessment, Doyle smiled again, fully aware of the fact that he had smiled more in the last six months than he had in the entire year before he had met Bodie.

"Better wipe it off, Doyle. Someone might think you're happy," Bodie allowed, catching the drift of his lover's thoughts.

"Am, you know." Doyle's voice was serious. He was amazed to see a flush of pink in his partner's cheeks.

"Feel like a daft, randy teenager," Bodie offered with apparent trepidation as he glanced at Doyle.

Still needing reassurance that Bodie loved him, Doyle inquired tentatively, "You're happy, then?"

Bodie nodded, as always bemused by his reaction to Doyle. For the first time in his life, Bodie really believed that someone actually cared if he was happy, someone truly wanted to love him, and did. A part of him, dormant for most of his adult life, was responding wholeheartedly to the warmth of Doyle's affection. Eyeing his partner, Bodie wondered if he looked as soppy as he felt.

Using the insight that made them CI5's top team, Doyle put his hand on Bodie's forearm, seeking to share the embarrassment he knew his lover still experienced; Bodie's reactions to their relationship didn't corroborate the image of self-reliant, uncaring mercenary he projected. "How do you think I feel, mate? Tough, ex-copper like meself with the scars to prove it. Have a reputation, I do, for not smilin', bein' a right bastard. But all I've done for the last six months is walk about with a looney grin on me lips and star-dust in me eyes."

It was Bodie's turn to smile. "You sound as silly as you say you feel."

"Yeah, but I wouldn't go back, Bodie, not for anything."

"What if Cowley gives us the heave?"

"There's other work. I'm not givin' you up, Bodie."

"You'd really give up CI5 for me... for us?" Bodie asked, unable to hide his incredulity.

"Like that," Doyle responded, snapping his fingers. Ignoring a sudden surge of fear, afraid of the answer, yet needing to know, he inquired softly, "Wouldn't you?" Bodie's hesitation made Doyle wonder if he was wrong about the strength of Bodie's commitment to him. He knew the strength of his partner's commitment to CI5 and to George Cowley; it still made him nervous. The obvious pause while Bodie considered hurt Doyle.

"Yeah," Bodie finally replied, unaware of the direction Doyle's thoughts had taken.

"But..." Doyle encouraged half-heartedly, quickly scrambling to re-evaluate his relationship with Bodie.

"But I'm wonderin' if I'm too old for a job at McDonald's."

Caught unprepared for Bodie's response, Doyle blurted out, "What?"

"Well, not much call for an ex-CI5 agent who's ex-merc and ex-SAS. Figure McDonald's might not care and I could eat..."

"Bodie...."

"What?" Bodie looked at Doyle, actually seeing him for the first time in several minutes. Reading the turmoil in the wide green eyes, he frowned. "Somethin' wrong?"

"Yeah, somethin's wrong. Thought for a minute you couldn't choose between CI5 and me and now you're sayin' you were just thinkin' about eatin'?"

"'Course." Bodie smiled, his eyebrows rising. "Lunch time, isn't it?" He knew he'd quit instantly if Cowley gave him an ultimatum, but he hoped that would never happen for he truly, at last, liked his job. Noting the uncertainty lingering in Doyle's eyes, he added, "Ray, if the Cow puts it to me, there's no choice. You know that, don't you?"

Nodding slowly, Doyle sighed deeply, relief vying with disbelief at his own foolishness, for it was just like him to have let his fear lead him astray, and pure Bodie for the man's thoughts to have been on food. Shaking his head, Doyle moved closer to his partner. "Have an idea 'bout lunch," he said suggestively, picking up his paper airplane. "There's time for a quickie."

Sighing melodramatically, Bodie looked down at the desk rather than at Doyle. "But I'm hungry," he whined in his best little-boy-innocent voice.

"And I'm randy," Doyle countered.

"You're always randy."

"And you're always hungry."

"Yeah, but I'm randy sometimes, too. You're NEVER hungry."

"Sometimes you're randy?" Doyle was clearly not buying the line. "Who was it who couldn't wait last week, who had to have it off in that old fieldhouse?"

"That doesn't count. I'd just saved your hide. I had..."

Doyle didn't let him finish. "YOU saved MY hide?. Thought it was ME who saved YOU."

"You're such a stickler for details, Doyle," Bodie accused, looking at his lover. "I'm starvin', mate, I really am," he added, trying to change the subject back to food.

"You're not gettin' food or me till we clear up this little question of who saved whom," Doyle maintained firmly.

"All right," Bodie shrugged, "so it was you who shot Ballin when me shooter jammed, but it was me who screamed like a banshee when Jackson had you dead in his sights."

"I knew he was there," Doyle pointed out indignantly.

"You did not."

Both men stopped speaking when the door opened.

"Lover's quarrel, lads?" Stuart inquired, poking his head into the room. Irritated by still another intrusion and the innuendo in the question, but not about to let it show, Bodie seized the offensive. "No, Doyle here just doesn't seem to have a clear memory of what happened last week at the drug bust."

"'S you with the faulty mind, mate," Doyle retorted, jabbing Bodie for emphasis.

"You should be happy, Bodie. At least he admits you 'ave a brain. That's more than most of us will allow."

It was Doyle's cold warning glare rather than Bodie's anger that made Stuart close the door quickly.

"He's a good man, Stuart," Doyle said into the heavy silence.

Reluctantly, Bodie agreed. "Can't figure out why he likes to needle us, though. He knows we're tight."

"That's why, I suppose. Values loyalty, he does. Likes to see that it's alive and well in CI5," Doyle explained, resting his head in the palm of his hand, letting his fingers play with his curls as he gazed at his lover. "Speaking of bein' tight with you...." There was an undeniably lusty edge to his voice.

Bodie turned to face his partner, the intensity of the love he saw in the green eyes sending a shiver through him, making him look away.

"Come on, Bodie," Doyle pleaded, "make it good, I will." His voice was seductive now as he moved his chair closer to his companion's.

"Already gave up breakfast for you," Bodie attempted to parry feebly, knowing that he'd rather have a quickie with Doyle than food; he was in love.

"That was yesterday morning, moron."

"Oh," Bodie paused before adding, "but I'm still hungry."

"Have just the thing to fill up that big mouth."

Laughing, Bodie surveyed his lover's body, glancing from the swelling crotch of the tight jeans to the half-exposed chest and hard nipples he could discern beneath the clingy silk of Doyle's shirt. "Lunch, eh?"

Before Doyle could reply, the door opened once more and Betty, standing in the doorway, said quietly, "Mr. Cowley wants you both right away. There's been a bombing...."

As she headed for the next office to summon its occupants, Bodie turned toward his partner. "Guess he intends to keep us a while longer even if you aren't pullin' your weight." His gaze was directed at the one file that Doyle had looked through.

"Yeah," Doyle responded with a sigh and a smile, also noting his lack of progress this morning. Shrugging, he grabbed his jacket. By the time he reached the door, Bodie had closed it and was leaning against it so it could not be opened again. Doyle approached, puzzled by his partner's behavior. Strong arms reached out and drew him close. Soft lips touched his own, a tongue tickled him, making him open his mouth. The kiss was deep, long and loving.

"You're crazy, takin' a chance like this," Doyle admonished weakly when Bodie released him. He hoped the cynical tone of voice hid the love too near the surface.

"All the lunch I'm likely to get, isn't it?" Bodie asked, opening the door.

The ever-present smile of the last six months returned to Doyle's lips as he nodded agreement. Patting Bodie's belly, he added as they headed for Cowley's office, "But there's always dinner...."

-- THE END --

Originally published in The Hatstand Express 11

---

***Excerpt from the episode INVOLVEMENT:

Cowley: "...Check her out."

Bodie: "Ach, come on, Doyle's girlfriend?"

Cowley: "Would have to be checked out if he wants to marry her. No operative can marry without my permission."

Bodie: "Didn't know that."

Cowley: "It's in the small print, and anyway, it's not ever likely to affect you is it?"

Bodie: "Thank you. Yeah, well, we don't know he's going to get married yet, do we?"

Cowley: "Well, when he does, if he does, I'll be able to smile benevolently and say yes, won't I? Check her out!"

Bodie: "Don't believe you could smile benevolently."

Excerpt from "Bodie's Book Of Words To Live By" - "Never put off until tomorrow what you can do today. If you enjoy it today you can do it again tomorrow."