Banner by Agent Xpndble for summer_of_78

Written for the 2006 Summer of '78 livejournal fic exchange: given an unexpected, albeit somewhat risky, opportunity, Bodie takes it and runs. Thanks to Brenda K!

---

Doyle sighed and checked his watch for the third time; Bodie was late checking in. He rubbed his hands together to keep them warm and pulled his jacket tight to keep out the autumnal chill, leaning back against the wall of the cemetery as he did so. He checked his watch yet again and frowned, resisting the impulse to leave the wall and head towards the nightclub only a short walk away. If Bodie didn't make contact in a few more minutes he'd have to consider that he might be in trouble. Just as worry shot through him at the thought, a rustle of leaves along the pavement had him alert and ready, relaxing only as Bodie came into view.

"You're fifteen minutes late."

Bodie nodded. "Got held up by one of the customers complaining about his drink," he said briefly, and shivered. "Can't say that being a barman is quite my idea of an easy job. Too many damn people think you're shortchanging them or something. Mind you, the price they're asking for some of those fancy cocktails is gross extortion in my book."

"How's it going?" Doyle asked, leaning back on the wall and contemplating his partner. Bodie looked nattily dressed as usual and with his haircut and shiny shoes, he looked very much the picture of the ex-serviceman fallen on hard times he was pretending to be.

"Haven't had much chance to do anything but the job," Bodie said gloomily. "The manager keeps a beady eye on all of us and other than this permitted fifteen minute break and a meal break in the upstairs canteen, he expects you to be working your arse off where he can see you." He patted his jacket pocket and pulled out a battered packet of Benson Hedges and a lighter, tipping a cigarette out into his palm before replacing the packet. "I hate the stench of these things," he muttered after taking a few goes to get it alight.

"Considering most of the customers smoke, I'm surprised they expect you to go outside for a fag," Doyle said.

Bodie shrugged and wafted the cigarette around. "I'm not complaining." He put it to his lips and inhaled, then almost immediately bent double, coughing and wheezing

Doyle kept his face straight with an effort and waited until the coughing had ceased. "I'd stay clear of the fags if you want play it cool," he suggested blithely, ignoring the suspicious glower from his partner.

Bodie glared at the cigarette. "It went down the wrong way," he muttered, waving the end from side to side.

Doyle laughed, ignoring his partner's scowl. "What's the place like then?"

Bodie screwed his face up, taking a smaller and more careful drag on his cigarette. This time he didn't cough. "It's okay I suppose, but not as much fun as I'd expected."

"You were hoping to ogle the dancers," Doyle said knowingly.

Bodie grimaced. "Not allowed near their dressing rooms. Mind you, I thought the girls would be a bit of fun, but they're either totally professional and don't even want to give you the time of day, or silly and giggly. Can't stand that."

"Never stopped you before," Doyle said and grinned at the look of affront on Bodie's face.

"I like intelligence in a girl," Bodie said loftily.

"Since when?" Doyle said scornfully. "Big tits and a nice bum seem to be your major requirements."

Bodie sniffed and ignored him.

"You still under observation at the bedsit?"

Bodie nodded. "It's not constant and there's no routine to it."

"We know they did a thorough search of your background before hiring you," Doyle said, stamping his feet a little to keep the damp chill out. "They seem a bit paranoid, which is why the Cow is so suspicious."

Bodie nodded. "Is he certain that Courtney actually owns the place?"

"Not a hundred percent, but he's pretty damn sure. If it is him, you need to keep your eyes peeled and your back covered since you've not got me to do the job."

Bodie looked amused. "Yes, mum," he said, giving Doyle a cheeky grin. "Promise to wipe me nose and clean me teeth as well."

Doyle gave an answering grin, but turned serious again quickly. "I know you were in the briefings before you took on this job, Bodie, but I'm telling you, the more we investigate the nastier it gets. There doesn't seem to be anything the man isn't involved in. Smuggling, murder, corruption, drug running. And they're probably just the things we know. In fact the only thing he doesn't appear to be involved in at the moment is gun running."

"Well he's not likely to be running guns to the IRA is he?" Bodie snorted.

"No, and we can thank our lucky stars for that," Doyle said quickly. "His son might have been a nasty piece of work, but even he didn't deserve to be blown up by the IRA"

Bodie took a look at his watch and swore, throwing the cigarette end on the floor and grinding it out. "Got to go, see you same time tomorrow."

Doyle nodded and watched Bodie walk away before quietly slipping off back to his car.

---

Leaning against the wall of the cemetery contemplating the vagaries of life and death, Doyle read the inscriptions around him while he waited for his partner to appear. Cemeteries didn't bother him, he was far more disturbed by the living than the dead. He found himself increasingly entertained by the pomposity and elaborate grandiosity of some of the graves and tombs, and intensely curious about the few gated mausoleums. A week into the job, Doyle had become resigned to both Bodie's lateness and his bad temper and it took him a few seconds to respond to Bodie's enthusiastic greeting as, for once, Bodie materialised out of the gloom bang on the dot.

"Hey, goldilocks. I'm here." Bodie nudged him with his shoulder as he joined Doyle in sheltering from the worst of the wind.

"I'd noticed," Doyle said dryly, "and you're on time. To what do I owe the honour?"

"Mallard's gone sick," Bodie crowed.

"Who the hell's Mallard?" Doyle asked, certain he'd never heard the name.

"Manager," Bodie continued impatiently. "His stand-in isn't so damn pernickety and doesn't watch me like a hawk the whole time. I managed to do a little exploring in the cellars, and noticed that one of the racks had moved. I checked it out and it's hinged."

"Giving access to further storage space," Doyle nodded his understanding. "Any idea what they store in there?"

Bodie shook his head. "Had to get out quickly, but I know exactly where to go next time I'm sent down there. Mallard always used to do the restocking himself, but the new guy prefers to delegate, in fact he's a lazy sod. I don't see him keeping his job for long." He pulled a cigarette and lighter out of his pocket, stuck the cigarette in his mouth and lit it after a few attempts.

"You're getting a bit too used to those," Doyle observed, wafting the smoke away from his face. "The Cow will have you hung, drawn and quartered if you keep them up off the job."

Bodie shrugged. "What I need is to smell like I've been smoking, what the Cow needs is Courtney in custody and his nasty little empire shattered."

"Yeah, well evidence of hidden storage space isn't going to do that," Doyle said sharply. "Nor is your dead body, so don't take any stupid risks."

Bodie gave him a sly smile and clutched his heart. "You care," he intoned mockingly.

Doyle glared at him.

Bodie shook his head. "Come on, Ray, we take risks all the time, it's the job."

"Usually with good backup," Doyle countered swiftly. "I'm telling you: Courtney's bad news."

Bodie took a swift drag on his cigarette, and threw the remains on the floor. "The enforced idleness is making you twitchy mate. Go and get a drink, or better still, come to the club and relax. They've got a girl dancing almost nude with a dirty great snake wrapped round her neck. It'll get your pulse pounding just watching her."

"And how many times have you seen her?" Doyle asked, fascinated despite himself.

"Nigh on every night," Bodie said and shot him a sly glance. "She comes on just before I get me break, so I try and work down the right end of the bar just to get the show. She's quite a looker."

"The girl or snake, "Doyle asked, amused.

"Berk!" Bodie muttered, checked his watch and straightened up. "Get the Cow to give you a night off at the club."

"A night off?" Doyle said incredulously. "At the prices they charge! I'm only going on expenses, and you know the Cow will dock anything he deem unnecessary, like drinks, food and entertainment."

Bodie laughed, waved and disappeared into the night leaving Doyle to head back to his car.

---

Doyle left Susan and Murphy taking in the surroundings and sauntered up to the sleek, modern-looking, glass-topped bar. He settled on one of the chrome stools lining the bar and took a handful of peanuts. Bodie and the other barman were both serving other customers, so he waited, running his eye down the price list and wincing at the prices. Cowley had been firm: he'd pay for one drink and that was that. Doyle always enjoyed a drink: a good beer at the pub, wine with his meal and spirits afterwards if he got the chance, but for tonight he decided to treat himself to a good malt whisky courtesy of the Cow and stick to a couple of pints later. Eyeing the labels on the pumps with some disgust, he reviewed his options and decided on wine after the whisky.

Bodie moved over to him. "Can I help you, sir?" he asked smoothly.

"Double whisky neat, dry white wine and a pint of best," Doyle reeled off. "Oh, and a packet of pork scratchings if you have them."

Bodie nodded reached under the counter and placed the packet on the counter and got on with providing the rest of his order. Doyle glanced around the bar and watched Bodie and the other barman at work. He noticed that the mirrors gave an excellent view of not only the bar area, but also much of the nightclub, and in particular the toilets and the exits. He'd not noticed much overt security other than a few suited men standing around the periphery of the club, but he'd decided that if he were to set up any surveillance, he'd choose to do it from the bar. He frowned, thinking of the manager Bodie had been so frustrated by and wondered where he spent most of his time.

"Here you are, sir," Bodie set the drinks on the counter in front of him. "That will be three pounds twenty five. Do you want a tray?"

Doyle scowled at the drinks, measured the distance from the bar to the table and shook his head. He pulled his wallet from his jacket and paid out, rather regretting that he couldn't demand a receipt because he was damn sure Cowley wasn't going to believe the prices.

"Your change, sir."

Doyle took the money and nodded before placing the scratchings in his pocket and settling the glasses so he could walk back to the table. He nimbly avoided a few gyrating bodies as he skimmed the dance floor and arrived at the table with the drinks intact.

Susan took the wine, raised it in salute and took a sip. Murphy grabbed his and nodded his thanks.

Doyle took his whisky and cradled it in his hands, savouring the rich aroma.

"I fancy a dance," Susan said, smiling at him and Murphy. "Anyone want to partner me?"

Doyle grinned lazily and waited for Murphy to make his move. It was a well-known 'secret' that Murphy fancied Susan. As expected, Murphy jumped at the chance, leaving Doyle to apparently sip his whisky contently while actually keeping a close scrutiny on the comings and goings in the club. While the dim lighting and occasional strobes didn't help, Doyle was able to see both the bar and the exit with reasonable clarity, which would help him keep an eye open and check the areas that Bodie couldn't investigate without arousing suspicion.

Doyle turned his gaze to the dance floor and winked at Susan as she turned his way. He allowed himself the luxury of checking out the talent on the dance floor and was rather taken by the dancing style of a very sexy, curvaceous brunette partnered by a tall, handsome, but somewhat uptight looking man whose expression seem to hover between embarrassment and possessive pride. Doyle grinned and looked around a little more.

"Can I get you a drink or something else, sir?"

Doyle turned his head towards the rather sultry voice and smiled up at the lightly- dressed blonde. "And do I pay for the drink, love, or do you?"

She laughed and sat herself down at the table. "If you're a gentleman, you pay."

Doyle laughed. "And the something else?"

She smiled tightly. "Company," she said briefly.

Doyle shook his head. "I've got company out there on the dance floor, and the cost of drinks in this place is exorbitant. I've no doubt that you'll tip the barman a wink and he'll be charging me for one of those expensive cocktails if I did say yes" He saw her polite smile falter and decided that it would look better if he took her up on the offer, but under his own terms. "I'll stand you a glass of wine and a brief chat though."

The woman looked at him briefly then nodded.

"Please do accompany me," he said gallantly, and stood, offering his arm and holding his whisky in his other hand. The woman gave a small smile, placed her hand on his, and together they walked to the bar. When she'd settled herself on the bar stool Doyle was hard pressed not to whistle. Little imagination was required to guess how little clothing she had on underneath the dress. She caught his gaze, smirking, and crossed her legs. That revealed yet more flesh and a brief glance at the tops of her stockings.

Bodie came to serve him, nodding a hello at Doyle's companion.

"White wine?" Doyle asked her.

She nodded and was served silently by Bodie.

"Anything else, sir?" Bodie asked.

Doyle shook his head and turned to the girl, who had flipped open a compact mirror and was busy checking her lipstick.

"Work here regularly?" Doyle asked.

She pursed her lips, nodded to herself and closed the mirror, dropping it into her bag. "Most days," she said.

"Slim pickings tonight?"

The woman looked at him curiously and shrugged. "Weekends are the best," she admitted openly. She looked him up and down and asked curiously. "Why are you on your own?"

"I'm not," Doyle said easily. "I'm with friends."

The women nodded again and sipped her drink. Doyle thought that if her conversational skills were as poor as this it was no wonder she dressed so provocatively. Mind, he could imagine that plenty of blokes would be so enraptured with how she looked they wouldn't give a damn about the rest.

"Make a good living?" Doyle asked, little interested in the answer and deciding that his act of gallantry for the night had just about run its course.

"I get by," she said, then frowned and looked alarmed. "Who are you?"

"Just making conversation, love," Doyle said, and slipped off the barstool. "An art you seem to be lacking skills in."

The woman watched him, curiosity and annoyance in her eyes. "You queer or something?" she asked, a shade aggressively.

Doyle blinked and shook his head. "Not that I've noticed," he said mildly, raised his glass of whisky, ignored the snigger he knew was from Bodie, and made his way back to his table.

Murphy and Susan were deep in conversation, but looked up when he joined them. He plonked himself down and looked over towards the bar. The woman had moved on to a small, rather plump man and seemed to be making better headway than she had with him. Perhaps he liked empty-headed bimbos, Doyle thought somewhat unkindly and promptly forgot her existence as Susan drew him onto the dance floor.

A couple of hours, a number of dances, a few cabaret acts - mostly singing - and a number of drinks later, he decided he'd check out the loos. Susan was doing the same with the Ladies. It was quiet when he went it and he relieved himself at the urinal, whistling as he did so. Three men were in there, so he fiddled with his hair until they went. After than he checked out the cubicles and had just moved onto the cleaner's cupboard when the sound of raised voices came to him. He was about to get out of the cupboard and depart when he heard quite clearly.

"You promised me it was hundred percent pure."

"Keep your voice down, you idiot," another voice hissed.

Intrigued and curious, Doyle pulled the door of the cupboard to and pressed up against the opening. The door to the toilets swung open and a large, florid man walked in gesticulating wildly.

"You cheated me," he continued loudly, obviously haven taken no notice of his companion demand for him to quieten down.

"You got everything you paid for," a quiet, compelling voice stated and a tall, young man in a smart suit and dark glasses followed him in. "We don't cheat and we don't expect to be cheated in return. You're a fool coming in here and making a scene. Do you want to attract attention?"

A third short, but well built man in a suit slipped through the door and Doyle could see him check the place out. He recognised him as one of the bouncers at the entrance. There was silence for a moment.

"Look, I'm sorry," the large man said, a lot less vehemently and far more quietly. "I wasn't thinking."

"No you weren't." the taller man agreed.

Doyle heard the door of each cubicle swing open and flattened himself against the wall in case they checked the cupboard as well. The conversation was suddenly more muted

"Go through and see him, then get yourself a drink and we'll send one of the girls round," the tall man suggested.

I will," the large man said, wiping his face with a handkerchief. There was a whir of some kind of mechanism and then silence. Doyle strained to hear anything.

"He's becoming a risk," the tall man said to the bouncer.

He couldn't hear the reply as the two men were obviously walking away. The door banged and Doyle waited a few moments before slipping out of the cupboard and heading for the cubicles, looking them over closely. They all looked exactly the same, but Doyle remembered Bodie telling him that the shelves were hinged, and wondered if anything similar was going on here, particularly after that sound he'd heard. He slipped into the last one as a rowdy group came in chatting nineteen to the dozen and swore under his breath as the doors of the cubicles were flung open and someone banged on the one he was in.

When he got back to the table, Susan was sitting alone and Murphy was just returning from the bar a round of drinks in his hand.

"I'm reliably informed that the turn we're about to see is worth the price of the drinks alone," Murphy said.

The music faded and the spotlight centred on the small raised stage at the far end of the dance floor. Arabian music began to play softly, and a veiled, cloaked but clearly female figure emerged. She began to gyrate to the music and a veil drifted down to the floor. A number of veils later, Doyle caught a glance of an exotically beautiful woman and an olive-coloured body. The music speeded up and the dancer's movements followed suit as yet more wisps of fabric fell, until Doyle realised that the thing draped round her neck was a snake. He immediately glanced towards the bar and saw Bodie slowly wiping a glass, his eyes fixed on the woman. Doyle settled back and allowed the music, the snake and the exotic woman to mesmerise him as they danced together, the woman holding the snake above her head and swaying with it. Something, however, made him look towards the toilets. He saw a tall man being held between two bouncers and being escorted towards a doorway. He looked very drunk, stumbling as he was forcibly pushed through the door.

Shrugging, since he assumed this must happen on a fairly regular basis, Doyle turned his attention back to the dancer and clapped and cheered with the other clients as her dance came to end. Visibly panting, she stood and took the applause, her near naked body glistening in the spotlight. A few seconds later, the spotlight vanished and the disco music returned.

Murphy shook himself and let out a low whistle. "That was worth waiting for."

Doyle was inclined to agree.

"Fascinating," Susan said. "I'm sure that snake keeps away any unwanted suitors."

"I wouldn't go near it," Doyle said, and tried unsuccessfully to hide a yawn.

Susan laughed. "Shall we break it up, then?"

Murphy drained his glass and nodded, and Doyle was happy to follow them as Susan collected her coat.

---

"You queer or something?" Bodie mimicked and collapsed into laughter.

Doyle shook his head and tried to hide his grin, he certainly didn't want to encourage Bodie.

"If her scintillating conversation is the best they've got…" he started to say when Bodie interrupted him

"She's not the best, but most of the guys she comes onto aren't too worried about her conversation," he said, then broke into laughter again.

"If I'm expected to pay for the privilege of her company, I expect a little more than just a short dress and a tantalising view of her frilly knickers," Doyle said, uncharitably.

Bodie sniggered again, before lighting up and taking a few puffs of his cigarette.

"Did you see the three men arguing?" Doyle asked. "They came in just after I went in."

Bodie nodded. "One of them was a bouncer, another was the other a guy I've never been introduced to, but he seems to have some kind of managerial role in the place and I didn't recognise the punter."

"Why on earth were they arguing in the loos of all places?" Doyle asked.

Bodie shrugged. "The loud guy seemed to materialise from nowhere. Maybe they just wanted somewhere to calm him with as few people listening as possible."

"Why not the guy's office or something?" Doyle argued.

"Maybe they didn't want a link between the club and their business," Bodie suggested.

Doyle thought this over and nodded. "Possible."

"Did you see them come out together?"

Bodie frowned. "No, but I was busy serving. Why?"

"I think that there might be the same kind of secret door in one of the cubicles." He shrugged when Bodie looked at him incredulously. "I heard something I couldn't explain. Cowley wasn't too impressed when I told him all I'd managed to find out, but with your secret storage space it's at least a start."

"I don't know what's going on there, but the security inside is the tightest I've seen in quite a while," Bodie said with a hint of exasperation.

"Yet they've never checked on what you get up to in your fifteen minute smoke break," Doyle observed.

"It's what happens inside they're concerned about," Bodie agreed. He stretched and checked his watch. "I'll be glad when this comes to an end," he said, and threw his cigarette on the floor. "Better get back, oh and tell Cowley they've taken off the surveillance at the bedsit."

Doyle nodded, and watched as Bodie slipped away.

---

Bodie was half an hour late and Doyle was becoming colder and more worried by the minute. He made the decision to check out the club when he heard raised voices in the distance. Moving towards the sounds as they were coming from the back entrance of the club, he caught sight of a running, waving figure crouched low, hands clasped behind his back. Then the head came up and Doyle knew it was Bodie. He started running towards him, hearing the sounds of pursuit, but not seeing who was after him. By the time he was near enough to check Bodie over, he could see he was in a bad way. His face was pale and he was shivering. Doyle grabbed his arm, eliciting a pained grunt as he did so.

"Got to hide," Bodie gasped. "Looking for me."

Doyle looked round and swore. The car was parked some streets away and the cemetery was the only place that could afford them protection. He pulled Bodie towards him and half carried, half supported him towards the cemetery entrance.

"Where we going?" Bodie muttered.

"We'll hide in one of the mausoleums," he said, ignoring the look a disbelief crossing Bodie's face. He pushed him through the entrance and headed for the smallest and most dilapidated of the tombs, pushing open the gate and closing it behind them. The darkness engulfed them until he switched on his torch and guided Bodie to sit down on a small shelf.

"You can hide behind the tomb. I'll keep a check out for them and when they've passed, we'll get going for the car," he said quickly as he undid the rope around Bodie's wrists. .

Bodie grunted as his arms were freed, but and stayed put. Doyle made his way to the gates and watched the entrance to the cemetery. "How many after you?" he asked quietly.

"At least three," Bodie said.

"What happened?"

"Fell over a body," Bodie said matter-of-factly. "Was checking the stores again and found the loud-mouthed guy, dead in the hidden storage area."

"So he didn't leave the toilets, he went through to somewhere else," Doyle muttered. "What they do to you?"

"Beat me up a bit, made threats then poured whisky down me and some suspicious looking pills," Bodie said slowly.

"Why didn't you say that before," Doyle said harshly.

"What difference would it make?" Bodie said and sighed. "Feel light headed and sick, Ray, but still thinking straight." He muttered something Doyle couldn't hear.

"Have you made yourself sick?" Doyle demanded.

"Yes, got one of them all over his nicely polished shoes," Bodie said, a note of achievement in his voice. "Was when they were quarrelling and moaning about the stench that I kicked one of them in the balls and head butted the other and got away."

Doyle watched the cemetery entrance closely. "Is your cover blown?"

"Don't think so. They didn't ask me any specific questions, and I got the impression that they thought I was just too curious for my own good."

"What were they going to do with you?" Doyle asked.

"Get some more drink down me and drown me," Bodie said flatly.

"I told you they were dangerous," Doyle chided him, before catching sight of a couple of men walking purposefully towards the cemetery gates. "Keep your head down, they're heading our way."

Bodie shuffled back into the gloom and Doyle took cover, peering out from time to time to check the progress. Footsteps sounded outside and the gate squeaked as someone pushed it open. They entered the mausoleum and shone a torch around, turning as they did so. Doyle held his breath and readied himself to hit the guy with his gun as he knew a gunshot would both warn the other pursuers and give the game away about Bodie.

"Is he in there?" another voice asked from just outside.

"Don't look like it," the other said, his torch passing by Bodie's hiding place and flickering towards Doyle.

"Come on, we need to find him. The boss is going to be furious," the voice outside said impatiently.

The man inside lowered the torch and headed out without comment.

Doyle waited until he was sure they'd gone and went to check on Bodie. He was sitting with his eyes closed, but opened them and gave Doyle a grin.

"He needs to hire better muscle," he said cheerfully. "If anybody I worked with was that sloppy, I'd string the bugger up."

"I thought he'd see the footprints in the dust," Doyle said, and offered Bodie his hand. Bodie looked at it, gave another cheerful grin and allowed Doyle to pull him up.

"Feeling much better," he said.

Doyle looked at him closely. "Your pupils are dilated and you're sweating," he said calmly. "We need to get you back to HQ and checked out by the doctor."

"I'm fine, Ray" Bodie said, and goosed Doyle.

Doyle sighed. "I don't know what they gave you, mate, but I think we need to move before you embarrass yourself."

"Impossible, "Bodie said loftily, but moved as Doyle pulled him cautiously out of the vault and towards the cemetery gates. In fact he remained silent for quite a time, occasionally stumbling a little, but otherwise showing few signs of being worse for wear until Doyle felt a hand burrow under his coat and trace down his spine. He shivered and was about to snarl at Bodie when a voice whispered in his ear.

"You're a sexy little bugger, Ray."

He was processing that information when he was suddenly slammed into a wall. A warm, wet mouth clamped over his and a strong, determined tongue tried to excavate his tonsils. Doyle pushed against Bodie and wrenched his mouth away, only to have Bodie grab his face, lean all his weight on him and kiss him breathless.

Allowed up for air, Doyle stamped on Bodie's foot and shoved him away. "What the fuck are you playing at, Bodie?" he hissed. "We've got killers out looking for you and you've decided that feeling me up would be fun!"

Bodie actually pouted, and Doyle couldn't make up his mind whether he wanted to laugh or cry.

"Don't be like that, beautiful," Bodie said and gave him a gentle tap on the cheek.

"Bodie!" Doyle said, in exasperation. "The car's in the next street and I really want to get you seen by the doctor."

"We can do it in the car," Bodie said with sudden enthusiasm, and patted Doyle's bum. "Come on, let's get that gorgeous arse in the car so I can check it out."

Doyle shook his head and grabbed Bodie's wandering hands, wishing momentarily that they were still bound behind his back and really wanting to know what the hell he'd been given to make him so randy and so damn touchy feely with him all of a sudden. It was so out of character, both Bodie touching him so unreservedly in public and in touching him, a man, in so overtly in a sexual way. He didn't exactly go in for much outward expression of affection with his girlfriends from what Doyle had seen – and as far as Doyle was aware, he'd never shown any interest in men before.

By the time he'd got Bodie to the car he'd been groped and kissed so many times he was losing count, and was, despite himself and the urgency of the situation, he was beginning to get turned on. Even drunk and drugged, Bodie knew how to kiss and he certainly knew how to use his hands.

Doyle called into HQ and told the Duty Officer he was bringing Bodie in and wanted him checked out before starting the engine and demanding that Bodie belted himself in. Instead, Bodie started to undo the zip of his jeans.

"Will you stop it," he shouted, almost jumping a light as Bodie played with his balls as he inched down the zip.

"Want you," Bodie muttered and pulled the zip down further until, with a whoop of joy, he'd pulled it all the way down and exposed Doyle's more than interested prick to the air.

"Fuck!" Doyle moaned as Bodie moved his head down and licked the crown. He looked wildly about him for a parking space, unable to concentre on driving while his crazy partner was doing that. "Bodie, you idiot, stop it!"

Bodie ignored him and swallowed him whole. Doyle bit his lip and tried not to scream as he tried really hard to keep his eye on the road. The sucking intensified and Doyle finally yelled aloud as fingers moved under his arse and rubbed along his crack. He swore, headed for the nearest space he could find, turned the ignition off and abandoned himself to Bodie's ministrations.

Somewhere amid his enjoyment though, he was embarrassed by his own response. How the hell was this going to affect their friendship? He wasn't too sure if he wanted Bodie this way, but he couldn't deny that the bastard had turned him on something chronic and he was getting one of the best blow jobs he'd had for a long, long time. Bodie did something wonderful with his tongue, made one long suck and Doyle was coming like an express train. Satiated and languorous, he collapsed into his seat as Bodie tucked him away, zipped him up and kissed his cheek.

"I'm hard as nails, Ray," Bodie whispered in his ear. "Feel!"

Doyle opened one eye long enough to watch lazily as his hand was placed on a very large mound in Bodie's smart trousers. "So you are," he murmured.

"Suck it please, Ray," Bodie murmured. "I want that sexy mouth around it." He wriggled around and Doyle watched as he unzipped himself and made himself comfortable. "Please, Ray."

Doyle let Bodie move his head and push it gently towards Bodie's generous and very erect penis. "I'm not too sure, Bodie," he said, slightly panicked at the thought. "I've never done anything like this before."

"Just kiss it," Bodie begged, and Doyle could hear the frustration and need in his voice.

"I really need to get you to HQ."

Bodie groaned and pushed up in his seat causing his penis to brush against Doyle's lips. He grabbed Doyle's head again and pushed. "Please, please please, Ray." he begged.

Bodie had done it for him, Doyle thought, but he'd wanted to and started it. He, though, wasn't at all sure if he felt that way about Bodie. In the end he took a deep breath and licked the tip of Bodie's penis. Bodie groaned deeply and grabbed at Doyle's hair.

"If I'm going to do this, you're keeping your hands to yourself, Bodie mate," Doyle said, sitting up and glaring at Bodie.

Bodie waved his hands in the air and looked pathetic.

Doyle leant down again and licked up the underside of the throbbing penis. Bodie made a grab for his head again, carding his hands through Doyle's curls.

"That's it!" Doyle said in annoyance, He reached for Bodie's tie, pulled it undone and pulled it out from his collar. "Lean forward, hand behind your back, or I won't suck you."

Bodie blinked at him, but did as he was told. Doyle wrapped the tie around Bodie's wrists and tied it loosely. He pushed him back, grinned at him and retuned his attention to the weeping penis eyeing him impatiently. Trying to remember what Bodie had done, he licked up and down, took a deep breath and sucked. The groan of delight from Bodie was encouraging, so he kept it light, didn't try and swallow more than he could chew, as it were, and experimented with what moves he could remember. Bodie groaned, muttering at his inability to use his arms and encouraging Doyle with every stroke until he gave a big sigh and came. Doyle wasn't too sure what to do, but swallowed with as much grace as he could, took a deep, deep breath and gently tucked Bodie back in and zipped him up.

"Come here," Bodie said, and leaned forward to kiss him.

Doyle let him, and kissed him gently back, before righting himself, sitting back in the seat and starting the engine.

"You going to untie me?" Bodie asked.

Doyle grinned and shook his head, leaning over to belt Bodie in. "I'm getting you to HQ now, with no interruptions. We've wasted enough time as it is when you should have been seen."

"Wasn't a waste," Bodie muttered. "Been wanting to do that for ages and ages."

Doyle eyed him thoughtfully. "It was very good, Bodie," he said truthfully, "But I'm a little unsure that you're going to remember any of this in the morning, while I'm going to have a problem forgetting it" He checked over his shoulder and pulled out into the traffic. "It's not that you've showed the slightest interest before."

Bodie snorted. "How many times have you seen me ruffle anyone's hair but yours, or pat anyone's bum but yours, Ray?"

Doyle shrugged.

"Exactly," Bodie said, and gave a big yawn.

"Don't you go to sleep on me now," Doyle said, and wound the window down.

"Bed," Bodie muttered, "Your bed, it's big and comfortable and smells of you."

"HQ," Doyle returned.

"Then bed?" Bodie asked, hopefully.

"Your bed."

"Both of us in a bed," Bodie insisted.

Doyle shook his head, and indicated right, heaving a sigh of relief as the drab building of HQ showed up in his headlights. He parked the car, undid the tie around Bodie's wrists and pulled him out of the car. Bodie straightened himself up, looked around the car park with a distinct lack of delight and headed for the entrance.

They climbed the stairs in silence until, just before the door to the office level, Bodie stopped, pulled Doyle towards him and planted a kiss on him. "I won't forget," he said very clearly. "I want to do it all again and more with you and I want you to be with me, Ray. Do you follow?"

Doyle looked into clear, tired eyes and nodded.

"Good," said Bodie. "I'll hold you to that."

"You do that, Bodie," Doyle said quietly and walked forward, only just catching the sly, cunning and smug expression that crossed Bodie's face for a few seconds before being wiped off as Doyle turned to check he was following.

"So you'll take me home to bed afterwards then?" Bodie asking, grinning and goosing Doyle as if for luck as he followed him

"We'll see about that, Bodie," Doyle said thoughtfully. "We'll see."

-- THE END --

June 2006