"Bo-day!" A bellow came from the kitchen.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm right here," Bodie said as he bumped into Doyle, who was doing the dishes.

Doyle whirled round, as fast as he could these days. "Christ, Bodie do you have to creep up on people like that?"

"I'm not creeping," Bodie pouted at the fridge.

"WHAT?" Doyle shouted, as he turned Bodie's way again.

"Damn it, Doyle, keep still for a minute, will you?" Bodie squinted, wondering what Ray was doing in the fridge, when he was suddenly whacked against his legs with Doyle's walking stick. He let out a long yelp. "What did you go and do that for?" he asked, rubbing his calves.

"WHAT?" Doyle shouted again, bringing his face close to Bodie's. "What are you fumbling about down there for? It's not as if you didn't get off this morning!"

"Doyle! I'm rubbing the back of me legs. Me cock is in an altogether different place," he sighed.

"Why is your cock in a different place? Didn't you like it where it was?" Doyle shook his head and returned to washing the dishes.

Bodie sighed again and straightened up, feeling his back starting to protest as he did. He grabbed a tea towel and picked up the first thing his hands came in contact with.

"Bodie, what the hell are you drying the soap for?" Doyle sounded exasperated.

Looking at the soap in his hands, Bodie crossed his eyes and tossed it down disgustedly.

"Dunno why I help out here, it's not as if it's appreciated," he said, walking into Doyle again.

"Bodie, will you stop mumbling? I can't hear a word you're saying!" Ray had raised his voice to an unbearable level.

Bodie winced, turned on his heels and tripped over Doyle's walking stick, crashing into Doyle, who bumped his head against a kitchen cupboard and promptly saw stars.

"I've had enough of this," Doyle muttered, rubbing his forehead.

"Same here," Bodie replied. "Cowley better provides us with a hearing aid for you..."

"And a pair of glasses for you," Doyle quickly interrupted.

"...or I'm pulling out of this undercover op," Bodie finished as if Doyle hadn't said a word.

"I'm getting too old for this," Doyle grumbled.

"Yeah, Sunshine, you're definitely over the hill. Now, me," Bodie thumped his chest and promptly had a coughing fit, "I'm still in me prime," he eventually finished.

Doyle snorted, "Yeah at seventy nine, you're still fighting fit."

"You're just jealous, Sunshine, that your looks have gone now that you're eighty two," Bodie grinned.

"Can still turn you on in no time, though," Doyle replied triumphantly.

Caressing his partner's backside, Bodie nodded. "Abso-bloody-lutely, my love, and that I never expected to happen after fifty years."

Doyle grabbed Bodie's arm and his walking stick. Together they carefully sidled to the living room and gratefully lowered themselves onto the sofa.

Ray curled against Bodie's somewhat expanded waist, while Bodie twined his hands in Ray's now snow white curls.

"You know, my love," Bodie began, as he looked down into Ray's face. "I thought we'd be pensioned off by now. That, or dead."

Doyle nodded. "Yeah, so did I. But we can't leave Cowley, now, can we?" Shaking his head, he mumbled, "Who'd have thought the old bastard would live to be a hundred and fifteen!"

As if on cue, the front door opened and an electric wheelchair whizzed inside. A shaking voice wheezed, "A little less of the old, laddie!"

-- THE END --

October 2005