(Written for the_safehouse livejournal community "title" challenge (title: "In a Good Light," by Clare Chambers))


It must be the light, Doyle thought. There could be no other reason why the word 'beautiful' had suddenly popped into his head. It definitely had no business cropping up when the only thing it could be applied to was his partner, seated across the room from him, reading a tattered paperback edition of Keats.

Bodie. Not beautiful, no matter what the man himself thought. No, he was a mad bugger, whose main goal in life was to find new ways to push Doyle's buttons, when he wasn't busy fighting bad guys for crown and country - or for the sheer thrill of it. Not that Doyle wasn't fond of him. In the years of their partnership, Bodie had grown on him, until he was like an old but comfortable pair of shoes, too beloved to be discarded, no matter how ugly they were.

No, the word 'beautiful' was simply not part of their well-balanced equation. Didn't matter that the look of utter concentration on Bodie's face as he lost himself in the poetry, his strong fingers caressing the pages as they turned them, almost took Doyle's breath away.

It must be the light, Doyle thought. There was no other explanation.

-- THE END --

July 2005