Written for "Discovered in Temptation" on the discoveredinalj livejournal community, to the prompt "hubris."

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Bodie dove behind a retaining wall, a hail of bullets accompanying him. The wall was only about two feet high, but it was solid, and it was between him and Connolly and Lynch. He couldn't help but smile. He'd been right, dammit, and Doyle would have to admit it. He raised himself enough to get off a few shots, to let them know he was still in the game. Connolly was in the garden shed, but Lynch was working his way towards the canal, using whatever cover he could find. Bodie shot at him, but he didn't have a good line of fire--it was enough to harry Lynch but not to stop him. If Lynch made it to the small boat moored at the edge of the canal, he might lose him. Fuck. Bodie pulled out his r/t.

"Three-seven to four-five. Four-five. Doyle!"

"Yeah." Doyle sounded cross. Bodie looked forward to adding fuel to the fire.

"I found Connolly and his explosives."

"Where?"

"Lynch's house. His other house." Bodie grinned at the silence on the r/t. He took the opportunity to send another round of fire towards Lynch, pinning him behind a weeping willow.

"Did you bloody go in on them alone?"

Bodie glared at the r/t. "I found them. I--"

"I'm almost there. Try not to kill everyone. Out."

Bloody, irritating bastard. Bodie fired over the wall, then ducked down as Connolly returned the fire. Doyle hadn't said one fucking word about Lynch. After all his protests, all his dismissal of the very idea that Lynch could be bent and in on it with Connolly. Typical.

Bodie moved along the wall. It ended well before the canal to his right. The house was to his left, and behind him stood the gate to the garden. Connolly's position meant Bodie couldn't leave the protection of the wall to get a better angle on Lynch. There was a lovely horse chestnut tree midway to the canal, but it would be suicide to make for it. With a growing sense of frustration he saw that Lynch had moved closer to the canal during Connolly's last burst of fire.

If Doyle showed up quickly, they'd stand a better chance of getting both Lynch and Connolly. Would Lynch leave Connolly behind? Or, once the boat was ready, would he provide cover for Connolly's break for the canal? Bodie changed the clip in his gun, eyeing the distance to the chestnut tree. If Doyle arrived, he'd get equal credit for the capture, despite this all being his fault to begin with. Sanctimonious little git. Bodie had been the one to see the truth, and he'd be damned if he'd let Doyle in on the end. He could handle it. Cowley and his bloody ideas about two-man teams--it hadn't worked for them. He'd spent two sodding months with Doyle--it wasn't going to work. He'd be better alone. He'd found Lynch and Connolly on his own.

Lynch made a break for the canal. Bodie fired at him, itching to jump from behind the wall, but Connolly-- In disbelief, Bodie saw Connolly leave the shed, running for the willow tree. Bodie leapt over the wall, his path now clear to the chestnut.

"Bodie!" His body reacted instantly to the urgency in Doyle's voice, and he fell flat on the ground before his brain kicked into gear. There was gunfire all around him--Doyle, with Connolly firing back. Still on the ground, Bodie fired at Connolly, hitting him in the centre of his chest. Connolly reeled back and fell, losing his grip on his gun. One down.

Bodie heard the cough of the boat engine and scrambled to his feet. It took only a few yards to put him into position for Lynch. "Freeze!" Lynch lunged for the gun he must have put down while pulling the ripcord for the engine. Bodie shot him and ran towards the boat, gun ready. Lynch was dead, sprawled across the bottom of the boat. Bodie turned back--where the fuck was Doyle?

Connolly hadn't moved, but Bodie went to him to make sure he was dead before turning towards the house. There was a man lying on the patio outside the house, and beyond him Doyle was on the ground. Christ.

Bodie ran to Doyle, a glance at the man on the patio assuring him there was no possibility he was alive. Doyle must have come into the garden through the gate, he must have seen the man--a fucking third man--with a beautifully clear bead on Bodie's back. Connolly had lured Bodie out. Stupid, he'd been fucking stupid-- Doyle's shout had saved him, but it had drawn Connolly's attention. Doyle had been too far away from the retention wall. He'd had no protection. No chance. The words ran together in Bodie's mind, the images all too clear.

He reached Doyle, falling to his knees beside him. It was a chest wound. Doyle opened his eyes as Bodie checked his pulse.

"Get 'em?"

"Yeah." His pulse was strong, but rapid.

"Good." A smile flitted across Doyle's face, followed by a grimace.

"On your side, mate." Bodie eased him into the recovery position and checked his back. No exit. He grabbed his r/t. "Priority A-3! Agent down, three dead." He gave the address and waited for an acknowledgement from HQ, then dropped the r/t. "They'll be here soon." Bodie checked the wound, but there was nothing for him to do except wait and monitor. He'd make sure Doyle continued to breathe.

"Bodie." Doyle stirred and caught his breath.

"Don't move, you fool." Bodie put his hand back on Doyle's neck.

"You were...right."

Astonished, Bodie looked at him.

"I...wouldn't believe--your grass. Stupid." Doyle's eyes closed for a moment.

"You got there in the end. Don't worry about it." It wasn't what he meant to say, what he'd planned to say. "How'd you know about this place?"

"Records."

He'd gone to look. After denying that Lynch could possibly be involved, that a copper would ever be in league with an IRA bomber...he'd fucking gone and looked. "That must've hurt."

Another brief smile appeared on Doyle's face, reminding Bodie just how rare any smile had been recently. "Worse 'n this." He looked at Bodie. "Over...confident."

Bodie heard sirens approaching. "I should have called you."

"Did."

"Earlier. We should've been working together."

"Tried. Cowley's...not pleased."

"He warned us before."

"Bull...china shop."

"Pigheaded."

Doyle's hand moved a few inches. "Try again?"

A group of men came through the garden gate--agents, the ambulance crew, and he could hear Cowley's voice in the distance. Bodie looked at Doyle. Over-confidence--but it wasn't Doyle's that had nearly led them to disaster.

"We'll make it work." He pressed his fingers briefly against Doyle's neck. "You can trust me." Their eyes met and held. The ambulance crew arrived, and he was forced to surrender his place.

"Report, three-seven." Cowley stood next to him, his eyes sweeping the scene while the other agents fanned out into the garden, shed and house.

"Lynch was the key. Connolly was here--you should find explosives in the shed. One of my grasses identified Lynch's involvement. Doyle found this house in the records--it's far more expensive than any copper should be able to afford."

Cowley frowned. "We'll look into Lynch's past. Did you have to kill all of them?"

Bodie shrugged. "They put up a fight."

"Aye. But it's bloody sloppy." He looked around, lips pressed tightly together. "Get your report in to me as soon as possible." He turned away.

"Doyle saved my life, sir."

Cowley glanced back at him. "And you'll save his one day." His eyes narrowed. "Go on back to HQ and file your report. You can meet me at the hospital."

"Yes, sir."

Bodie turned and headed for the garden gate. They'd get through this; they'd already learned from it. Doyle had stepped back from the brink; he'd bloody well listened to him in the end. He rubbed the fingertips that had rested on Doyle's neck. He knew the danger he was courting; knew what he was risking with involvement. But the promise had been made. He'd watch Doyle's back. He'd keep him safe. It had been luck that had saved them--if Connolly had shot true.... It wouldn't happen again. He'd make damn sure of that.

---

Doyle gasped, his fingers tightening on Bodie's head, sliding through his hair. He was surrounded by Bodie's mouth and tongue--heat and pressure--and every other sensation faded to insignificance. His heart pounded and he had to move, had to press forward, but Bodie was in control, setting the pace, and the depth of penetration. Doyle groaned and shut his eyes, letting his head fall back against the wall. Every feeling was centred in his cock; he was tuned to it like a pure note in a cacophony of sounds. This was what he'd been craving, needing--all the work of the past weeks was worth it to have Bodie here, on his knees, giving him this again. Triumph surged through him, a sort of release of its own: finally, Bodie had come to him. He hung suspended on the edge of climax, wanting it to last and wanting it to end--living and dying in that moment. This was how it was meant to be. The build-up crested and he gave himself over to ecstasy, knowing Bodie was there and would catch him.

Doyle slid down the wall, entangled with Bodie. It had been less than a week since Bodie had come around, and they'd been kept busy with the gun running op most of that time. Now they had a few days to sort themselves, to get back to normal before Cowley set them loose again. He opened his eyes to find Bodie watching him. Doyle smiled. "Best way to end an op."

"If we're alive. I didn't think I would be for a few minutes back there." Bodie sat next to him, back to the wall.

"Next time don't hide behind a crate of explosives." He shifted to ease the pressure on his rib. The bullet burn was more of an irritant than anything else. He was bloody tired of getting shot.

"Feeling your age?"

"You could say that. But I wouldn't." At least the sodding op was over with and he'd be back working with Bodie now. He didn't get shot when Bodie was with him. Doyle pushed his jeans and pants off. "We should try a bed sometime. It might be nice."

"That's next on the agenda." There was a pause. "Unless you've changed your mind?"

Doyle slanted a look a Bodie. "You want your turn, do you?"

"Yes." Bodie's voice was uncompromising.

"Not going to go and screw every air hostess in London this time, are you?" As the silence lengthened, Doyle turned his head to look at Bodie, eyebrows raised.

"I don't think...it wasn't quite every air hostess."

"Berk."

"Anyway, I was willing to share."

"That's generous of you."

"Do you think you can make it to the bedroom now?"

"Eager?" Doyle grinned.

Bodie cupped a hand around his head, drawing them closer. "You know I want you." He kissed Doyle, his urgency clear.

Doyle pulled back. "Then you'd better have me." He stood up, watching as Bodie followed suit. "Tomorrow it'll be my turn again." He smiled at the suddenly wary look on Bodie's face. "You'll enjoy it. C'mon." He led him towards the bedroom, but turned and kissed him in the doorway, revelling in the instant response. Reluctantly, he broke the kiss. "I'm going to get cleaned up." His eyes travelled over Bodie. "You seem overdressed for the occasion."

"You're not going to tear my clothes off?" Bodie sounded wistful.

"That's more your style, mate." Doyle headed for the bathroom. "You're in a civilised country now."

"And who was it who barely waited for the door to close before he attacked me?"

"I've fallen in with bad influences." As he entered the bathroom he saw the smile on his own face reflected in the mirror. It had taken nearly two months, and much of Cowley's patience, but he'd finally manoeuvred Bodie back to where he belonged. The stupid sod. Bodie was the one who'd started it, and he'd said the sex wouldn't interfere with their jobs. But when Bodie had begun going through birds at an even faster rate than usual, Cowley had noticed. When he'd made mistakes on the job, Cowley had got on to Doyle. "Solve the problem," he'd been told. It was no use trying to talk to Bodie, but a little withdrawal, a little indifference...and he'd recaptured Bodie's wandering attention. Bodie had come to him--admitting his need--and it had all smoothed over. Bodie's work on this last op had been flawless. Cowley had been pleased when he'd stopped by to speak to Doyle while he was being tended to by the doctor. All they had to do was turn in their reports tomorrow morning and they had two days off.

The trouble had started when he'd fucked Bodie--even though Bodie had wanted it. Overreaction? It hadn't seemed to bother Bodie at the time, but the parade of birds had started soon afterwards. Doyle had ignored it at first, until Cowley had taken an interest. Now that he'd brought Bodie back in line, he'd keep him there. No one understood Bodie better than he did. No one could handle him like Doyle could. It was time they agreed there was nothing casual about it. He'd start by giving Bodie what he'd always wanted.

He pulled off his jacket and his bloodstained shirt, throwing the latter into the bin. It had been a close-run thing on the op. Stuart was a good agent but he wasn't in tune with Doyle, and they'd nearly blown it.

Doyle heard a sound at the doorway and turned to find Bodie staring at him. His chest and feet were bare, but he still had on his trousers. "You haven't made much progress."

Frowning, Bodie approached him. He gripped Doyle's arm and with his other hand lightly brushed the bandage along Doyle's rib.

"There was a reason I was late getting to you, you know." He kept his voice gentle. Bodie had gone through enough with the shooting by Mayli Kuolo last year.

"You didn't say." Bodie's eyes were hidden, but he felt the tension in the hand on his arm.

"I was a bit busy at the time."

"So was I." Bodie hadn't been assigned to the op originally, but he'd been pulled in at the end--and he'd been the one left exposed when the shooting started. It had been that, more than the sting from the crease, that had driven Doyle in his rush to the warehouse.

"I got there in the end. All's well that ends well, you might say."

"Yeah." Bodie's expression was still withdrawn.

"Hey. I'm all right."

"Careless."

Doyle kissed him. "Not any more." Bodie turned away. "Anyway, it wasn't me. Stuart was out of position."

Bodie stopped, and Doyle nearly ran into him. "You work well with Stuart."

"Yeah, but he's not you. Will you move? Anyone would think you didn't want to fuck me."

Bodie continued into the bedroom. "I came looking for you."

Doyle rubbed a hand along Bodie's arm. "So you did." He pulled Bodie towards the bed. "Still want me to tear your clothes off?"

Bodie pulled his hand free. "I want to know what happened."

Doyle looked at him, surprised. "I told you. Miscommunication. Oddly enough, not everyone can read me like you can."

"I told him--" Bodie broke off.

Doyle narrowed his eyes. "You spoke with him? Before the op?" After a moment, Bodie nodded. Doyle rolled his eyes, but he couldn't help but smile. "Trust you."

Bodie looked away. "I reckon it takes time, working with someone else. We weren't always in synch early on."

"We were never that far off." He undid the clasp to Bodie's trousers, easing them, and his pants, down his thighs. He took Bodie's cock in his hand, giving it a stroke.

"Stuart's good." Bodie's voice was slightly breathless.

"Hmm." Doyle fell to his knees, replacing his hand with his mouth as he pushed the clothing further down. He pulled back, leaving Bodie half-hard. "Have you finished talking to me about other men?" He looked up at him, a hand still on his thigh.

"Oh yeah." Bodie's voice was soft, and there was an odd expression on his face. Doyle held still, feeling an unexpected lurch in his stomach. Bodie's hand drifted to Doyle's face, and Doyle closed his eyes. He leant into the hand, feeling the backs of Bodie's fingers rubbing along his cheek. He'd never had tenderness from Bodie before. He'd been right to manoeuvre them into this. He smiled at him.

Bodie closed his eyes for a moment, then urged Doyle to his feet. "Let's get this over with." He stepped out of his trousers.

Doyle grinned as he moved towards the bed. "It's a wonder you ever talked any bird into bed."

"Shut up, Doyle." Bodie brought their mouths together with hard aggression. Doyle surrendered to the kiss, as Bodie had once surrendered to him. Bodie's tongue filled his mouth, Bodie's need inflamed him.

Bodie ended the kiss, his mouth sliding across Doyle's cheek while his hands roamed his back. "You know you're bloody gorgeous. I've wanted that arse of yours from the first day."

"Took you long enough. Why didn't you try it on earlier?" Doyle settled on the bed and reached into the chest of drawers by the headboard.

Bodie climbed in behind him, running his hand along the length of Doyle's back. "Valued my head too much."

Doyle turned back, handing Bodie the KY. "Your head head, or...."

Bodie grinned. "Both."

"Come here. Let's make up for lost time." Doyle pulled him down, his arms wrapping around Bodie's shoulders. They kissed, but Doyle felt restraint. He pulled back and ran a soothing hand down Bodie's side. "What?"

Bodie blinked and then ducked his head, kissing Doyle's chest. With a finger he stroked along the bandage on Doyle's side.

"Just a crease, love." But he felt a sudden tension in Bodie's body that puzzled him. "You can see I had it checked out."

Bodie's eyes were still hidden from him. "When?"

"After the op, of course, when you were off with Cowley." He wriggled, nudging Bodie's cock. "What were you doing with Cowley, anyway?"

"Nothing." Bodie tongued one of Doyle's nipples, then rubbed against it with his teeth.

Doyle squirmed. "Has to be...something. You were in his office forever."

"Fifteen minutes."

"I wanted to go home. With you. Ahh." Bodie transferred his attention to the other nipple. Doyle's hands found Bodie's cock, encouraging it to lengthen.

"That was obvious when we got here." Bodie nipped him. "Bloody runaway train."

"Could do with some more of that just now." Doyle felt his own cock growing, and his stomach twisted in mingled apprehension and anticipation.

Bodie moved down Doyle's chest, licking his way to his groin, and then he took Doyle's cock into his mouth, and Doyle arched off the bed.

"Bodie!" He pulled away, sighing when Bodie released him. "It's going to be over if you do it like that. Want you in me first." He lay down, breathing heavily, and Bodie soothed him with a gentle touch.

"Turn over, then." Bodie urged him onto his stomach.

Doyle sighed as his needy cock was pressed against the bed. He felt Bodie's hands on his back, and his mouth on his shoulder, kissing him. He turned his head, his cheek on his arm. "So, what were you doing with Cowley?"

"Do you really want to talk about this now, Doyle?" Bodie's hands had reached his arse.

"Yes."

There was a pause, and Doyle gasped as cool gel touched his heated skin. "Are you sure?"

Doyle closed his eyes. "Yes."

"I was giving him my report."

"Your...report?" Bodie was playing with his arsehole now, stroking with the KY. Doyle bit back a moan. It wasn't good for Bodie's ego to think he'd turn on so--God, but it felt good.

"He wanted it right away."

"Ohhh."

Bodie eased on top of him, his cock rubbing against Doyle's arse, his mouth next to Doyle's ear. "Are you paying attention? You're sure you want to hear about this now?" His tongue pressed into Doyle's ear and Doyle shivered.

Bodie pulled back, his hands and mouth roaming over Doyle's flesh, moving with maddening slowness back down to Doyle's arse.

Doyle thrust back against Bodie, craving more stimulation. "Get the fuck on with it, three-seven." His voice came out in an odd gasp as a finger slid into him.

"You were saying, sir?" He heard the laughter in Bodie's voice.

"Fuck-- Oh, Christ, carry on." Doyle held his breath as the finger moved inside him. His cock was aching, his heart thumping as if he were running--like that afternoon when he'd run to the warehouse, afraid.... Doyle opened his eyes, sudden tension freezing him.

"Ssh, take it easy, Ray." Bodie's finger withdrew, and he rubbed Doyle's arse.

Cowley had wanted their report in the morning. Together. He'd...all right, so he'd taken Bodie's.... No.

"Ray?"

He didn't fully understand the dread that rose within him, the sense of impending disaster, but he acted on it, as he would if he were in a firefight. He turned on the bed, Bodie's hands falling away from him, until he was on his back. He reached for Bodie, seeing the frown on his face and the wariness in his eyes. Christ, there was something wrong...something--and Bodie knew it. He pulled Bodie down to him, kissing him fiercely, as if that would resolve the confusion. Bodie gave in to him for a moment, then pulled back.

"Ray, what is it?"

"This way. Do me this way." He brought his feet up.

Bodie shook his head. "Not the first time. It's--"

"No. I want to see you."

Bodie stilled, and his eyes dropped before Doyle's. Another stab of unreasoning terror struck Doyle.

"Please, Bodie." He used the only weapon he had.

Bodie sighed. "You're a fool, Ray."

"I know."

Bodie shook his head again, but he leant forward and kissed him, too. It was a quick acquiescence, or maybe an acknowledgement. He returned to preparing Doyle, using more KY and stroking Doyle's cock with his slick fingers.

Doyle watched him, absorbed the sensations, and rode the rising tide within him. Yet the centre of his mind was clear, and he kept hearing Bodie's voice: He wanted it right away. But Cowley had told Doyle the morning would be soon enough, and he wanted to go over it with them together.

Despite coming in at the last minute, and being dropped in it, Bodie had been a pattern of perfection on the op. He'd handled it beautifully--as if the mistakes on previous ops had never happened. As if to prove he should never have been left out of it to begin with. On his own, Bodie had been perfect. The last time that had happened, Bodie had been set on a course of self-destruction--he'd been determined to kill King Billy. He'd.... A chill swept through Doyle, causing a shudder.

"Easy, mate."

That time, Bodie had gone from mistakes and errors to bloody perfection because he'd reached a decision. A fucking, hard, decision.

Let's get this over with.

Oh, Christ, Bodie was fucking leaving him. The thought hit him with the same sick certainty as a stoppage in a firefight. He'd put his report in before it was due. He'd bloody well set Doyle up with a new partner. It takes time. He'd spoken with Stuart.

"Put your legs over my shoulders, sunshine." Bodie moved him into position, and Doyle felt his cock against his arsehole. "Ray--"

Doyle reached out, touching his fingers to Bodie's face. "Stuart's not you." He saw something flash in Bodie's eyes, but then it was gone. The panic inside him grew, overriding anger. Bodie was always watching out for him, always guarding his back--how could he leave?

Bodie moved against him, and into him. Doyle caught his breath, pain momentarily blocking every other thought, but he kept his eyes open and fixed on Bodie.

"It'll...get easier...just--" Bodie's teeth caught his lip as he eased back, obviously fighting the need to press forward.

The protection was real. The caring was real. The tenderness--oh, God, it had been goodbye. Doyle tried to speak, but he couldn't do more than gulp a quick breath as Bodie pressed forward again. Bodie bowed his head, and Doyle stretched to grab him, to force his head up, to demand that he meet his gaze. Bodie slid fully into him, and the pain grew, but he concentrated on Bodie's eyes.

Fear. It was fear he saw and recognised, only now realising it had always been there. Fear behind the wariness, behind the humour, behind the need he'd forced Bodie to admit. Fear going all the way back, to another time he'd been on his back with Bodie suspended over him. Another time, when Bodie had made him a promise.

"We'll make it work." His voice was gritty with the effort it took to speak. "Trust me." He stared at Bodie, willing him to see everything, to see what Doyle had never fully acknowledged existed. Willing him to step back from the brink of disaster.

Bodie moved within him, and Doyle lost him in the haze that overwhelmed him--possessed and pierced, pain giving way to rapture and to orgasm, tinged though it was with despair. Drained and spent, he took little notice of the world, until he felt Bodie's arms around him, and lips on his.

He couldn't open his eyes; all his courage had fled with his certainty. But Bodie kissed his eyes, and his mouth again, and his neck, and finally he knew he could avoid it no longer. He looked at Bodie, and searched his face, but it was closed to him. He couldn't breathe.

"Are you all right?"

Doyle pulled a smile from somewhere, although the constriction in his heart didn't ease. "Yeah." He brushed Bodie's mouth with his fingers, and felt it when he smiled. How could he smile?

"You're shagged out."

"Boaster." Doyle lowered his hand. "Just wait until tomorrow?" He hadn't meant for it to come out as a question. He looked away. Had it been like this for Bodie?

"If you recover. Go to sleep, mate."

Bodie moved away and Doyle's hand closed on his arm. "Stay." He met Bodie's eyes and saw a slight frown. Had he thought he could manoeuvre Bodie? Then Bodie kissed him, softly.

"It'll be all right. Trust me."

Bodie settled beside him to sleep, gave him the comfort of his presence. He wanted to speak, to question, to demand, but all he could do was stay. Be there with him. Wait. Against all expectation, Doyle must have slept, because the next thing he knew he was hearing Bodie's voice, but from a distance. He opened his eyes to find the room darkened, the only light coming from the open door to the hallway.

Doyle left the bed as quietly as he could, fear lining his stomach like ice. He couldn't lose Bodie; he wouldn't. He'd fucking follow him, he'd-- But he wanted him of his own free will. The panic was back, his world suddenly uncertain and alien. He stopped in the doorway, able to clearly hear Bodie voice coming from the lounge.

"No. I've bloody changed my mind, that's why. Keep it. Yeah, you too, mate."

At the click of the handset, Doyle returned to the bed. The light went off, and a short time later the bed dipped as Bodie climbed in next to him. There was a moment's stillness, and then Bodie rolled over and Doyle felt his hand on his side.

"You heard?"

Doyle turned onto his back, his stomach tightening into a knot. "Yes."

Bodie's hand stroked up his arm and stopped at Doyle's neck. "Will you try again?" His voice was soft, and Doyle heard the uncertainty.

He didn't need to see Bodie to sense the tension in him, or to know what was in his eyes. "Yes. Always."

"Always." Bodie bent his head, and he kissed the base of Doyle's throat, his hand sliding to his shoulder.

Doyle threaded his fingers through Bodie's hair, cradling his head. "No more birds?"

"I won't need to protect myself, will I?"

"No. Never." He slid his hand in a caress down Bodie's shoulder and back.

"That's all right, then."

"I'd've hated you." Fucked and abandoned without a word.

"Yeah. You wouldn't have followed."

"I wouldn't have survived."

Bodie stilled. There was no breath in the body beneath Doyle's hand.

"You couldn't have known." Doyle stroked him gently.

"I thought...I was alone."

Doyle nodded. Withdrawal and indifference--he'd been more than a fool. But for a chance turn in conversation, Bodie would have been gone in the morning. Doyle shivered.

"I'm sorry." Bodie whispered the words.

Doyle shook his head. "My fault."

"No. You pulled us back."

Doyle stroked Bodie's back, and felt the comforting weight of his presence. "We both did. We'll bloody well be more careful." He'd guard Bodie's heart better than his own.

"We will. Together."

-- THE END --

March 2007