Ray Doyle wasn't sure what was going on, only that he had to get to the bottom of it, and fast. He glanced at the dark haired figure curled tightly in the sleeping bag near his feet; knowing his partner was only pretending to be asleep. Something was seriously off with the younger man, and had been for more than a fortnight. Sitting at the window, binoculars trained on the nondescript house across the road, he admitted he was worried.

The first time he could recall something being wrong was the day Kate Ross, CI5's resident shrink, appeared with a batch of new recruits at the end of morning briefing. He'd been artfully slumped against the wall, his shoulder just touching his partner's. Cowley had greeted the nine men and one woman and suggested they introduce themselves to their elders. His partner had politely greeted the first seven. He wasn't sure what had changed but he felt Bodie tense for battle. No one else in the room noticed, but he was as tuned into his partner as he was to himself. Looking around he didn't see any reason for the reaction but was stopped from commenting by the approach of the final three recruits. Bodie didn't so much as twitch a muscle as the three introduced themselves. Blue eyes were shrouded, and the three barely received a nod. Finally alone in the room, Ray had turned to ask what was wrong only to be interrupted by Betty, who told them the Controller was looking for them.

A week later, they had just finished sparing to ward off a spate of boredom from three straight days in Files. Two of the new recruits, Collins and Dicks, were on another mat and Collins -- who was taller than Murphy and outweighed his own partner by a good two stone -- stepped in front of them. He challenged Bodie to a match. Thinking back on it now, he should have been surprised at his partner's response. Never one to back down from a challenge, especially if it kept him out of Files for another 20 minutes, Bodie had stepped around the bigger man, ignoring him completely, and headed to the shower room.

A pattern began to emerge -- if Collins was in the room, Bodie was silent, withdrawn and ready for war. It didn't make any sense, as his partner couldn't possibly see the man as a threat. From what he'd learned from Macklin over a pint two nights prior, Collins was simply average for a potential CI5 agent. Middle of the road fighting skills, and he was near the bottom of the current group when it came to using a rifle. Besides, his partner usually encouraged the younger crowd, taking a big brother pose with them that struck most as being totally out of character. And it was, unless you knew the man as well as Ray Doyle did. What was it about Collins that had his partner so off balance? The squawk of the R/T interrupted his musings and sent them scrambling out the door.

It hadn't been a pretty op, he thought as he took a last noisy sip of tea four hours later before heading to the locker room to collect his partner. The four men in the house hadn't given up without a fight, and Bodie had taken a bit of a beating in the muddy back yard as he'd run into a fifth man they hadn't known was there. He stopped to talk to Murphy and the two entered the room, only to be brought up short. Collins had Bodie pushed up against the lockers, using his greater bulk to keep the older man there. But it was the fact that he was in the process of tearing the robe off his partner that broke Doyle out of his stupor. His cry of "Gerroff" was echoed by Murphy as the two sprang forward and forced the bigger man off his prey. Murphy grabbed the agent by the scruff of his collar and forcibly removed him from the room.

George Cowley barreled in demanding answers. The Controller quieted abruptly as he caught sight of 3-7, still flush against the lockers. Ray shot the Controller a look -- the plea must have been clear in his green eyes as the older man left the room immediately.

Before he could complete his turn back to the lockers, he heard the shower turn on, so he sat on the slim bench in front of the lockers to wait. He rose 15 minutes later, grabbed a towel and went around to the shower. Reaching in, he turned off the cold water. When that garnered no response, he stepped in with the idea of wrapping his shivering partner in the towel. But he aborted that mission when his forward movement elicited a flinch. He stopped himself from speaking as Bodie hesitantly took the offered towel and turned away. The blue eyes usually so full of fire and life were empty.

After Bodie got dressed, Ray led him to the First Aid Room to be checked for damage and then to the Controller's office. His effort to follow the younger man into the inner sanctum was stopped when Betty waved him off. He took a seat by her desk and waited impatiently for twenty five minutes. When Bodie emerged, he bit back a sarcastic quip and followed him to the rest room. Bodie handed him a cup of tea and took his own to the window.

"Not here...please" was the clipped response -- the 'please' a loud plea when he finally asked what was wrong. So Ray kept his mouth shut but did not let his partner out of his sight for the next two and a half hours. As soon as they were set free, Bodie followed him to the car park and slipped silently into the passenger seat. His mind in turmoil, Doyle drove to his partner's flat, knowing that whatever was coming, his partner needed the security that came from being on home turf. He followed him to the front entrance and eased the key out of shaking hands and opened the door.

Once in the flat, Bodie methodically hung up his leather jacket before escaping to the lounge. He poured two generous glasses from his stash of single malt and handed one to his partner. Moving restlessly across the room he finally took up watch at the window. Doyle sat quietly, taking a sip of scotch every now and then, his eyes never leaving his partner. While patience was not his strong suit, he knew he had to wait for Bodie to start. His partner was one of the most courageous men he'd ever met, but emotions had a habit of defeating the younger man.

He leaned forward slightly, green eyes intent on his best mate, when he sensed a change in the body language. A hoarse whisper began to weave a tale of horror as a 14 year old Bodie told of the first mate on his ship who hunted him, and the captain who had protected him until an accident six months into the voyage put the first mate in charge. The man had taken the cabin boy and chained him to a steel bar in his cabin and kept him there; beating him when he did not comply with his demands; and locking him in a small, dark closet whenever they arrived in port. This had gone on for more than a year until a new deck hand had helped him escape in Dakar.

When he first saw Collins it was as though his darkest nightmare had come to life. The man was the spitting image of the first mate, and he'd been been battling those long buried horrors ever since. In the locker room, he'd frozen when he realized he was alone with Collins, and the younger man had reacted badly to being ignored.

Thinking he'd heard it all, Doyle started to rise only to settle back as his partner continued after a huge gulp of scotch. He hadn't meant to break his promise but wasn't able to figure out how he could share this shameful piece of his past. He wouldn't blame him if he requested a new partner.

That brought Doyle to his feet. He moved to his partner's side and gently removed the crystal glass from clenched hands before turning him so they faced each other. Smiling softly, he used two fingers to lift the proud head so he could look into the blue eyes. After informing him of what a bloody big prat he was, he made it clear that he had no intention of breaking in a new partner. As for the promise, made after the near disaster of King Billy, he'd kept it as evidenced by all he'd just said. He only wished he'd felt comfortable telling him sooner so he could have helped him. But it didn't matter, as now that he knew, they'd work through it together, just as they did everything else.

The dark head bowed again and came to rest on a slender, but solid shoulder. Ray embraced his partner; running one hand in calming circles across the broad back, pulling him a bit closer as he felt the trembling in the tense body. He suggested his partner find his way to the bedroom and take a kip. Sad blue eyes looked up, and the younger man confessed he wasn't sure he could sleep -- too many nightmares still lying in wait.

Shaking his head fondly, Doyle favored his partner with a warm smile and tugged him toward the bedroom. Once inside, he watched as the younger man stripped to his boxers, and slipped into the bed. Turning off all but the small bedside lamp, he undressed and climbed in. Responding to the question in the blue eyes he announced he was applying for the job of night watchman as he'd had a great deal of experience in chasing nightmares away. His smile widened as his comment elicited a quiet laugh, followed by a soft "Ta, mate" before the younger man closed his eyes. Doyle slipped an arm around the solid waist and settled down for the night.

-- THE END --

April 2008