The Professionals Circuit Archive - Michael	    Michael

 

by Fanny Adams 

 
 *Story #10 in the Emma universe*


 

"Mr. Cowley," the note began, "that you are reading this means that I am
dead and that Michael has been delivered to you. For whatever
inconvenience this causes you, I apologize, but I have very little choice
in the matter of my son's welfare. I feel that you are responsible in part
for the situation and as such I have the right to demand your help. If I
am gone, my son has no one to provide for him.

 He'll need love, too, but I don't know if you can or will give that.
Please don't send him away to school and forget him; surely you'll be able
to find someone to love and care for him. He's an affectionate child--very
dear.

 His father doesn't know about him. I'm not sure he'd care much if he did
know, but now the choice is yours. Tell him or not, as you will. You may
have noticed the resemblance; it's distinct."

 Cowley lowered the paper and stared at the child who sat opposite,
dwarfed by the chair in which he sat so quietly that Cowley had all but
forgotten his existence. Silent and too serious for a child of...three? He
thought back to the case involving Kate Jordan and counted forward. Nearly
four years old. Michael met Cowley's gaze with cool blue eyes rimmed with
absurdly long black lashes. It was all there--eyes, tilted nose, and
wilful, vulnerable mouth, and his hair a riot of soft black curls. The
child was Bodie over again, only silent. Much too silent. "Michael?"

 "Yes?"

 The dark blue eyes, so like his father's, unnerved the old soldier. He
was unused to children, particularly such self-possessed ones. "Well, and
are you hungry?" he asked, folding the letter and slipping it back into
its envelope.

 "Yessir." The voice was soft but distinct--a clear, light childish
soprano.

 Cowley buzzed for Betty. "Let's see what we can find for you. What do you
like to eat?"

 The blue eyes sparkled. "Chocolate!"

 "I'll see what I can do," Cowley promised.

 "Ice lollys," Michael volunteered with a broad grin.

 Another heartbreaker, Cowley decided. Betty stuck her head into the
office. "Betty, the wee lad is hungry."

 "I've got something on the stove. It should be ready in about five
minutes." She turned to Michael. "Do you like shepherd's pie, love?"
Michael returned her smile and nodded. "Can you hang on for a few
minutes?" Another nod and she was gone, leaving Cowley alone with the
child.

 "Where's Mum?" Michael asked. "She went away. Where?"

 "I don't know, laddie," Cowley confessed, surprised that a small child
could make him feel so miserable.

 True to her word, Betty was back almost immediately with a tray. She'd
brought a cup of tea for Cowley, and he sat back and savoured the
familiar, comforting smell of bergamot. "Are you psychic now as well as
being the most efficient secretary I've ever had?"

 "I'd have to be psychic to work for you. Anyway, being a mum hones your
e.s.p." She tucked a napkin into Michael's collar. "Can you manage,
darling?" she asked and he nodded. "What's going to happen to him now?"

 "I don't know. Any ideas?"

 She shook her head. "I'd take him if I could, but Julia needs so much
attention...."

 "Och, so, it'd be too much to ask even if it wasn't for Julia." Her
daughter Julia had contracted rheumatic fever as a baby which had
permanently damaged the valves of her heart. She was a small, sickly child
who, until she'd reached school age, had taken up all of her mother's time
and attention. Fortunately, in the last two years her improvement had been
startling, and though she still required a lot of care, Betty had been
able to work on a limited basis. For the last six months she'd worked
full-time. Of course, taking another child on was out of the question
though Cowley could hardly hope to find a better family for Michael.

 "Will you tell Bodie?" she asked. Michael, blithely unconscious of being
discussed, ate with real enthusiasm. He had a thin milk moustache clinging
to his upper lip. "He deserves to know."

 "He won't take it well, Betty."

 "I think you underestimate him."

 "Perhaps," he admitted thoughtfully, sipping the Earl Grey. "I can't help
but wonder if he'll blame me."

 She shrugged eloquently and wiped Michael's mouth. "There may be some
cake left...."

 "Indeed?" Cowley asked before he realized that she was talking to
Michael.

 "What kind?" the boy asked with real enthusiasm.

 "Chocolate." His mouth became a tiny 'o'. "I'll bring you a slice, shall
I?"

 "Oh, yes, please," he breathed.

 "Good manners," she observed. "Would you care for one as well, or is that
a silly question?" She carried the tray to the door. "Shall I send him to
see you when he checks in?"

 Cowley sighed into his cup. "Yes, of course. Better to get it over with."
The door closed behind her with a soft click.

 ******

"...and the next thing I knew, he was running down the street yelling,
'The Russians, the Russians!'"

 Doyle chuckled and shook his head. "What'd you do, then?"

 "Ran after him yelling, 'Nyet, nyet, ya ni Russki, ya Amerikansk,' and
the poor bastard bloody near fainted dead away. Easiest cop I've made in
years." He shrugged out of the holster. "Well, almost," Bodie amended with
a sly smile. He stretched and groaned. "I'm getting old."

 "How is it you score the nutters?" Ray asked. "Oh, bloody hell! Somebody
finished the cake."

 "There's a moral there, old son, but it doesn't pay to consider...the
whole bloody cake?" Bodie was outraged.

 "Bodie, Mr. Cowley would like to see you." Betty's soft voice cut short
Ray's tirade on the character and parentage of the person or persons who
had deprived them of the chocolate cake.

 "Oh, God, what have I done now?"

 "He's not upset, he just wants to talk to you," she said, with one of
those motherly smiles that Ray had started to see on Emma's face lately.
Bodie gave her a chaste kiss as he slipped past her.

 "You can tell me, Betty, what's he done? You know I'll use it against
him."

 "Cheekier than ever, Ray Doyle," she said, but she looked pleased. It was
lovely having her back.

 He made a pot of tea, set out two mugs, and sat down to wait for Bodie.
He shut his eyes and hummed an old tune--one that Danny had sung to him
the last time they were together. His mother must have taught it to Danny,
he realized.

 "Ray." Betty was in the doorway. "He wants to see you, too." There was
something...not wrong, but something definitely not right. Before he could
ask, she assured him that it was nothing serious. "A small problem," was
all she would say.

 He puzzled over that one as he approached the office, and as he entered
he saw the small problem. "Bodie!" he blurted.

 "Caught the resemblance, eh, Sunshine?"

 Ray approached the child with something like fascinated horror. "Who does
he belong to?" he asked.

 "Innit bloody obvious?" Bodie asked bitterly. His eyes were hooded,
unreadable.

 "His mother was Kate Jordan," Cowley offered. "His name is Michael."

 Doyle squatted beside the child's chair and ruffled the dark curls
gently. "Was?" he asked, recalling her very well. She had been one of
those who Cowley had sacrificed for the greater good. Four and a half
years ago and Ray still remembered that she had loved Bodie--he had seen
it in her eyes when they brought her in for questioning. She wasn't a
memorable woman otherwise. Her child was exquisite.

 "Auto accident."

 "Any chance that it wasn't an accident, sir?" Bodie asked, all clipped
business-like tones.

 Ray didn't hear Cowley's answer, so fascinated was he with this perfect
miniature of Bodie. "It's not your fault, Bodie," he said softly.

 "Doesn't do the poor little sod much good, does it?"

 Something touched Ray's face. Small fingers traced the misshapen bones of
cheek and brow. Ray looked into serious blue eyes and was rewarded with a
shy smile. He picked Michael up and sat down in his place, holding the boy
on his lap. "Hullo, Michael, my name's Ray."

 "What's going to happen to him?" Bodie asked.

 "I have been appointed legal guardian, apparently. It's up to me to find
the boy a home. Miss Jordan, quite rightly, placed a large portion of the
blame on CI5."

 Blame? Ray thought, for something so wonderful? Bodie reached out and
brushed cake crumbs off the boy's mouth. Michael plucked at his sleeve,
but he pulled away. "No family?" Ray asked as Michael began to move around
restlessly.

 "We're checking, of course, but it seems likely that if there was some
close family, Michael would have been sent to them. There is, however,
always the possibility that she's sent him to us for some sort of
revenge...."

 "She wasn't like that," Bodie insisted. Michael squirmed and shifted. "So
the responsibility falls to you? Did she make any financial provisions?"

 "In so far as she was able." Cowley sorted through the papers in the
solicitor's envelope. "Some small amount has been set aside in trust. She
had not expected to die so soon, I imagine."

 Michael chuckled, but when Ray followed the child's gaze to Bodie, he
found his partner's face mask like and unreadable. "We never do," Ray
observed more to himself than the others. Michael laughed again and again
Ray found an inscrutable expression.

 "It's not nearly enough to raise the boy in any event. My major concern,
however, is to find a suitable home for the child."

 "So you'll have to rely on the goodness of someone's heart." Michael was
pulled out of his grasp.

 Bodie cradled the grinning child, a Madonna-like expression flitting
across the handsome face. "Speak roughly to your little boy, and beat him
when he sneezes...."

 "Essentially, yes," Cowley answered, watching Bodie. He and Ray fell
silent, watching father and son as they became acquainted.

 "He only does it to annoy because he knows it teases." Michael gurgled
with laughter and Bodie hugged him close. "My God, I want to keep him," he
whispered.

 "I'm sorry," Cowley told him.

 "What's your name?" Michael asked.

 "Bodie."

 "Bo?" He giggled. "Bodiebodiebodie. That's silly."

 "You're silly."

 "You're silly!" Michael insisted and squealed as Bodie found all the
ticklish spots. When they finally settled down, he rested his head against
his father's chest and closed his eyes.

 "I find it a little hard to believe you didn't know that she was
pregnant," Bodie muttered. "You've always had eyes in your back side."

 "I could say the same for you; anyway, I had no reason..." Cowley's voice
rose and Ray shushed him, pointing at the sleeping child. "...no reason to
expect that she was. You're supposed to be more careful."

 "Yeh, well, CI5 forgot to issue contraceptives that week. Accidents do
happen, you know."

 "Aye, well, that's too bloody obvious, isn't it?"

 Ray studied his lover's face and found there an unnerving combination of
anger and tenderness. His touch of proprietary gentleness, the way he
looked at his son, all said 'rival' to Ray in a nasty, nagging little
voice. Michael's mouth had dropped open in his sleep and he was drooling
on Bodie's crisp blue shirt. One small fist was wrapped around his
father's index finger.

 "He's awfully small, isn't he?" Ray observed. He remembered Kate Jordan
as being about five foot nine and about eleven stone, and for a moment he
had the wild hope that this was not Bodie's child after all.

 "He'll grow. I was like that as a kid--undersized. Got tall at sixteen or
seventeen, but I was weedy until I got into my twenties."

 So.... "Grew the muscles then, did you?" Ray asked with bitter humour. It
was madness to be jealous of a child.

 "Something like that." Bodie smoothed the tangle of dark curls with his
free hand. "I want to keep him for a few days. I deserve that much." For a
moment Ray thought that Bodie and Cowley were about to square off, but
Cowley put on a beneficent smile.

 "Of course," he said, all honey and common sense, "just as long as you
realize that it can't be anything but temporary."

 "And if I decide to quit and become a bachelor father? How do you think
you'll stop me?" Bodie demanded. Ray saw a look of pain flit across
Cowley's face. "Michael...Sunshine, wake up." Bodie shook the child
gently, but when Michael whimpered in his sleep, he propped the boy
against his shoulder and strode out of the room without a farewell.

 ******

"You shouldn't have said that to him," Ray observed as he drove them back
to his flat.

 "Which of my objectionable comments do you object to?" Bodie was
obviously in a difficult mood.

 "The one about quitting. He didn't deserve...." The look on Bodie's face
froze the words in his mouth. "Okay, okay. But I didn't deserve that
either. It frightened me." He was a little surprised at being able to
admit that so freely. A year ago he would have shouted at Bodie to leave
if he wanted to and good riddance. Being in love was having a mellowing
effect on both of them. A small hand patted his shoulder.

 "Ray? K'n I drive?"

 He grinned. "Another time, Sunshine, we're almost there now." Michael
settled back on Bodie's lap and played with the buttons on his father's
jacket. "Emma's going to love him," Ray said.

 "She'll probably try to kidnap him as a toy for Danny."

 "A toy for Em, you mean, and for Mum, too." He groaned, thinking of his
mother fussing over Michael the way she fussed over Danny. "Mum's mad
about you. Imagine how she'll feel about a lost lamb like Michael. She's
crazy about Danny, y'know."

 "Is that some sort of not-so-subtle hint about Danny's parentage?"

 "Touchy. Still, if the shoe fits...or if the kid looks like you...."

 "He looks like a Doyle, Raymond, in case you hadn't noticed--all hair and
those damn cat's eyes."

 "But they're blue," Ray reminded him.

 "So are your mother's. Doyle genes." Bodie grinned and waggled his
eyebrows, mock lecherous. "I've always been mad for your genes, especially
when you wear 'em that tight."

 "Pillock," Doyle snapped, trying not to laugh.

 "Anyway, Emma treats Danny like the immaculate conception. He doesn't
have a father--she made him all by herself."

 They parked, and Bodie tucked Michael under his arm as they made their
way up to Doyle's flat. "I'm hungry!" Michael announced in a surprisingly
loud voice.

 "His father's son," Ray said with a sigh. He took Michael from Bodie and
hugged him tight. It was terrible, he realized, he already loved this
little boy. "We'll have some supper as soon as my daughter gets here."

 Michael frowned. "Dot?"

 "My little girl," Ray explained.

 "You have a little girl?" Michael asked, wide-eyed. "K'n I see her?" He
tugged at the pocket of Ray's jacket.

 "She's not in there. She's not that little." He grinned at Bodie. "Four
years and already big with the little girls, eh?"

 "His father's son," Bodie said with a hint of pride, as he unlocked Ray's
door. "Why don't you make something to drink while we wait for her? Cocoa
would be nice, wouldn't it, Michael?"

 "Yeah," Michael agreed. He sounded just like Bodie. It was eerie.

 "Why is Emma coming by anyway?" Bodie asked. "I'd have thought she'd have
taken to her bed to await the second miraculous birth." He found some
cookies in a jar and handed a few to Michael, eating the rest himself.

 "Obstetrician. She's moving slowly, but she's moving. Maybe we should get
Chinese take-away."

 "I'd feel better about it." He sat down on the couch and Michael flung
himself at his father, squealing, "Bo-deeee!" and giggling madly.

 "Daddy," Bodie said softly and Ray felt something in his stomach sprout
wings and flutter around crazily.

 "Daddydaddydaddy." He pressed his lips to Bodie's cheek and made a loud
smacking noise.

 "No, no, I want a proper kiss," Bodie insisted, his eyes strangely
luminous. Michael complied.

 "K'n I have 'nother cookie daddy?"

 "There aren't any more. We ate them all."

 "Oh."

 The doorbell rang just as the kettle began to whistle and for a moment
Michael looked frightened, but then he pulled away from Bodie and ran for
the door. "It's Mama!" he cried. Ray sighed and took down a cup for Emma.

 "Hullo, who's this?" Emma's voice sounded tired but cheerful.

 "My God, you're enormous!"

 "Thanks, Bodie. Give us a kiss?" She pulled off her coat just as Ray
carried the tray of mugs out of the kitchen. "Hullo, Da. Now, don't tell
me...this is...a Bodie, yes? Hello, darling," she said to Michael who
stood behind Bodie's leg, small fist jammed into his mouth.

 "H'lo."

 "I smell cocoa. Do you want to have some cocoa?"

 "I'm Michael."

 "Hello, Michael. I'm Emma."

 "Ray's little girl? You're not little."

 "I will be soon I hope." Michael giggled and she held out her hand to
him. "Let's have some cocoa." She sat on the couch where Bodie had been
lounging a few minutes before, and she picked up the smallest mug. "Here,
darling, I'll hold it for you, shall I?" She held out the mug and he
approached cautiously. Ray was always surprised at her patience with small
children. "Careful now, it's hot." She tilted the mug to let the child
drink. "So who's his mum, then? Old girlfriend?"

 "Old assignment. I was supposed to 'get close to her'," Bodie explained,
sounding bitter.

 "She was a criminal?" Emma asked. Ray was surprised at the slightly
shocked tone. He didn't think that anything could shock his daughter.

 "No, just a lady caught in the middle."

 "I'm sure you're going to think this is a vulgar question, but did you
care for her at all?"

 "In a way, yes. I liked her."

 And she loved you, Ray thought. The image of Kate Jordan came to mind
involuntarily. Unmemorable, but not unremarkable. "She's dead," Ray
blurted, and the image vanished. "George is his legal guardian. She put
the responsibility on CI5, not on Bodie."

 "More," Michael demanded. She held the cup to his lips. When he was done,
he pushed her hand away and wiped his own mouth.

 "Want a cuddle, sweetheart?"

 "Yes, please." She pulled him into the little bit of lap that remained to
her and hugged him fiercely. "What's in here?" he asked, patting her
stomach. "You eat too much?"

 "No, it's a baby," she told him. His mouth dropped open and he pressed
his ear to her stomach.

 "It's not crying."

 "It's asleep. It'll sleep for a long time and then when it's born, it'll
cry a lot."

 "Oh," he breathed. He lay with his head on her stomach and petted the
bulge. "Sleep, baby," he crooned, "and don't cry."

 "Is he too heavy?" Bodie asked.

 Emma shook her head. "It's well cushioned. Danny does this a lot. He
likes to feel the baby kick." She brushed the tumble curls and stroked the
child's back. "George won't let you keep him, will he?"

 "Can't. The job. I'm no kind of Da for a small child."

 "Nonsense, you'd be a wonderful Da. Despite everything, I wish I could
have a little brother or sister. Not likely, is it?" She looked from Bodie
to Ray and grinned.

 "That cuts a little too close to your Da's domestic urges, doesn't it,
Sunshine?" Bodie's smile was gentle and loving.

 "I refuse to go about in maternity fatigues," Ray insisted. He grew
suddenly serious. "Bodie, listen. If it's that important to you, then you
keep him. Quit and keep him."

 "What?"

 "I've never stopped regretting not being with Em while she grew up...."

 "Oh, Da...."

 "Do what you have to do and I'll back you the whole way."

 "Do you suppose," Emma began, a distinct quaver in her voice, "that Alec
and I would rate as proper foster parents?"

 "Em, you can't be serious," Doyle said. "It's too much to ask with the
baby and Danny and all."

 "Too much to hope for," Bodie said quietly.

 "Neither. Look, having kids is like having cats. Once you have one, you
might as well have half a dozen. Frankly, I planned on having a big family
and Alec is blissful about that. You'd just save me nine months of looking
like a lorry on legs if you let me take Michael. He needs a mum, y'know."

 "It's all right with me, love," Bodie said, "but I don't know about
George."

 ******

After dinner Ray dropped Bodie off at his own flat and drove Emma back
home. It was strange to be alone with a child so much a stranger and yet
so much a part of yourself, Bodie reflected as he hunted up an old shirt
in which Michael could sleep.

 Michael crawled into Bodie's arms as they settled down to sleep and the
scent of small child made him smile. "Daddy, where's Mama?" he asked,
sounding more sad than sleepy. How long had Kate been dead? Less than a
week?

 "I don't know where she is, Michael. I know that she had to go, but that
she didn't want to leave you. She's sorry."

 "I want Mama." The small voice was unsteady.

 Bodie remembered the loss of his own mother. "She still loves you,
Michael, but she can't come back." Michael began to cry softly against
Bodie's chest, and he stroked the child's back and held him tight.

 "She got dead an' went 'way," he sobbed.

 Eventually the tears slowed and Michael dropped off into a deep sleep.
The best thing for him, Bodie decided, shifting around until he was
comfortable with Michael in his arms.

 Thank God for Emma, he thought. Still, the options remained open and he
knew that despite everything, the most tempting prospect was to opt for
bachelor fatherhood. The thought of watching Michael grow up, of raising a
child of his own was sweet. It'd be different for Michael, he thought.
Michael would have all the love and attention he could give no matter who
raised him--he'd insist on that. He'd go to a good school, but a
day-school; no boarding for Michael, and no running away from home--he'd
have no reason. Nobody would be allowed to give him a reason to want to
leave.

 An overwhelming mix of emotions washed over Bodie suddenly--anger, fear,
sadness, and a loneliness that he hadn't felt in years, as well as his
love for his small son. There was so much about life that was uncertain,
and Bodie who knew that uncertainty better than most, ached to make life
smooth for Michael. He wanted to pave the way with gold and give him
rainbows to play with. Crazy. It was something like the way he felt about
Ray--protective; insanely so. He wanted to be their cushion against all of
life's batterings. He wanted to be everything to them.

 It was fortunate that along with the ability to love fiercely, he'd been
gifted with a whacking great dose of common sense that told him that such
single-minded love was unhealthy. He'd seen it in his father's love for
his mother and he'd felt its recoil. It was no way to love a lover or a
child, but it was a damn good way to drive them away, and the thought of
finding himself an old man with all his grains of sand run away,
frightened him.

 Michael moaned in his sleep and Bodie rocked him a little and kissed his
head. The thick black curls smelled vaguely of apples. Life's little bumps
and bruises were character builders. It was the damaging things he wanted
to spare Michael--the loneliness, the very real terrors of life.

 He was suddenly angry at Kate for leaving her son alone in the world.
"You should have told me," he whispered.

 "And what would you have done?"

 There was no answer. Nothing would have changed. Dead is dead and Michael
would have been alone anyway. "Oh, Katie, there are times when I've missed
you," he sighed. He had cared for her, but Ray was and always would be the
most important thing in his life, and Kate, for all her loving couldn't
change that...except now, the part of her left behind had captured parts
of Bodie's heart that he'd thought belonged to his partner. Would Ray
mind, he wondered. It wouldn't change things even if he did. Bodie could
never stop loving Michael now. He was a small miracle, was Michael, a gift
as great as Ray's love. He wondered absently as sleep began to overtake
him, what he'd done to deserve the two of them.

 That night he dreamed, as he never had before, of his childhood.

 -- THE END --

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