The Professionals Circuit Archive - Wired	  Wired

 

by Shay Sheridan 

 
 *This is a remix of Adrenaline (aka After the Chase), by Lynnmonster*

 Ass to the wall, you are, your partner behind you, and the villains are
coming around the bend, Christ, they'll see you! and there's *three* of
them, not two like you thought and Bodie, oh damn you, where are you,
Bodie, not behind you where he was a minute ago--damn, okay, there he is,
and he's saluting, the berk, so you flash him a two-fingered one in return
and suddenly *bang!* there's a blast, chips flying off the wall, Christ! a
burning trail across your cheek, O'Reilly's got a shotgun or something
larger, duck! gunshot off to the right, ow, shit! it's cut your shirt, cut
your arm, dammit, you *liked* that jacket and it's just a crease but it
burns, it really bloody burns but there's no time, no time, and Bodie,
where's he got to, ah, Bodie, *where the fuck*--

 --and there's O'Reilly and shit, shit, he's *right in front of you*,
You're. *Dead.* Mate. nowhere to go, and surprise, surprise, your life
isn't flashing, it's just *ending*, you can see it ending, but Bodie's
come out of nowhere, shoving you out of the way, and you're falling,
rolling, coming up shooting, and Bodie's down *Bodie's down*, but now
you're in it, it's shoot or be shot, no time to check if Bodie's got a
pulse, and that spins your brain right round, pulls red across your
vision, and you're shooting, shooting, and O'Reilly's falling, all fall
down, all over, all done, filled with holes, damn, he's still alive, you
should be covering him, but you don't wait, you can't, you're turning back
to where Bodie fell, calling for him, *shouting* for him and you don't
know whether to laugh, cry or shoot him, too, because he's all right,
*he's all right*, just got the wind knocked out of him, didn't he, but
he's all in one piece, the bastard, you'll kill him for scaring you like
that, making your heart stop as dead as you thought he was, so you shout
at him and glare daggers and cuff him and you're relieved, you're more
than relieved, you feel wetness on your face, it's blood, it must be
blood, wipe it on your sleeve, point your gun at the wounded man, but the
gun's twitching, the shaking's started and there's nothing you can do
about it, there never is when the shaking grabs hold of you, which is
nearly always, every fucking time, because it's life, death, near miss,
isn't it? it's death of a partner--

 --no, no, he didn't die, don't think that, don't ever, don't put those
words out into the universe or Someone might hear you think it--

 *--but he could have died, he nearly did, you both nearly died, didn't
you?* stop! no point in thinking about that, mustn't tease the fates, so
you hold still, as still as you can, waiting for the questions and the
duty to be over so you can...so you can what? so you can do *what*, puke
your guts out, cry yourself silly, drink yourself into oblivion, get
yourself fucked somewhere wrong by somebody wrong, not the one you want
fucking you, the one you dream about endlessly but who you'll never have,
not really, not in the way you want him, and ah, shit, shit, the shakes
start up again and they won't stop, *Bodie you could have died, died*--

 --but he's got you now, saying something you don't understand about the
car, about it being too small, dragging you around the farmhouse, and your
head is still back with the shooting and the blood and the pain and the
almost dying, both of you almost dying, but he jerks you along until you
snap back to reality and when you look around you realize how far gone you
are, because Murph, Cowley and what's his name, the new bloke, they
must've all left with the prisoners, it's just the two of you still there,
Bodie staring a hole through your forehead, asking no questions, just
pulling you along, his hand wrapped around your arm, pulling you, dragging
you, shoving you against the rough stone, breath slamming out of your
lungs with the shock and you want to belt him for that, and how did he get
on his knees, and why is he tugging at your zip, and *oh, hell*, that's
why, *Christ, ah, Bodie*, that mouth is on you, Bodie's mouth is on you,
and your hands are knotted in his hair, and the words of protest die in
your throat because it's what you need, and it's what you want, it's what
you always want, *but not this way, Bodie*, and still you can't let go,
because the jitters won't stop, and the shakes keep on, but now it's
shakes of a different sort, as the boiling begins in your balls and rolls
up up up oh *Bodie, Bodie, ah!* it's up and out of you and you're coming
into his mouth, so wet, between those soft/hard lips, down his throat,
watching his eyes close as he spills himself into his own hand, *dear God,
so beautiful*, and you come even harder at the sight, so very hard until
you're sucked dry of adrenaline and fear and machismo and terror and
you've nothing left, you're stripped bare, nothing left inside you except
the truth, the part of you he'll never know, even after, as you smile and
cuff him and lie, in easy banter and the usual jokes, no, he'll never know
that thrumming through you the whole time are the words you'll never say
aloud: *ah, Bodie, not just this way, not just this way, when I'm all
strung out and wired and you're doing me a favor, but when we're just the
two of us alone, and it's not for adrenaline but for love, and not just
now but forever, Bodie, forever forever forever*

 -- THE END --

 *March 2005*

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