The Professionals Circuit Archive - Boundless       Boundless

 

by Veronica 

 
 *Written for "Discovered in the Brandy Butter," on the discoveredinalj
livejournal community, to the prompt of "Apricot Schnapps"*

 ******

*My bounty is as boundless as the sea,
 My love as deep; the more I give to thee,
 The more I have, for both are infinite.*


 It'd been a bad day, one of the worst Bodie could remember. Innocent
people had died, people who'd merely gone to work that day, driving a
taxicab, selling newspapers, delivering packages. The bomb hadn't
discriminated, and despite their best efforts, Bodie and Doyle had been
seconds too late. Neither of them had come out unscathed, and it'd been
two exhausted and hurting men that'd gone to Ray's flat after a visit to
Casualty to have various wounds tended. A haggard-faced Cowley had taken
their reports and sent them home, and by tacit agreement, they'd gone home
together.

 It was an innocuous movement on Bodie's part that had forever shifted
their world off its axis. Ray had been standing at his kitchen sink,
staring out the window, an untasted cup of tea cooling in one bruised and
torn hand. Conversation between them had dwindled and died and Bodie,
measuring out the last ounces of his fading energy, announced that he was
going home. He'd murmured his goodbye and when Doyle failed to reply, had
reached around him to set his own cup on the counter.

 For some reason, Doyle had chosen that moment to rouse himself and take a
step back. Bodie, turning away from the counter, saw the motion and
instinctively flung out his arm, thinking Ray was going to collide with
him. But instead of being startled and stepping aside, Ray had pressed
into Bodie, and Bodie had found himself giving in to a previously
undefined but suddenly undeniable impulse to wrap his arms around his
partner.

 As unexpected as that was, Bodie had been even more shocked when Ray had
burrowed deeper into his impromptu embrace, trapping Bodie's arms beneath
his own with desperate strength. Instinctively responding to Ray's
devastatingly silent request, Bodie had tightened his hold, the sweet
sensation of Ray's wiry frame nestling against him giving him the courage
to take liberties he'd always wanted but had never allowed himself.

 Carefully attuned to every breath and shudder, Bodie had curved his body
around his partner's. His own scrapes and aches forgotten, he was acutely
mindful of Ray's injuries as he lowered his chin to rest lightly against a
rigid shoulder. They'd touched constantly and easily over the years, in
every way imaginable except sexually, but this was somehow different. This
was surrender and need and Ray was offering and asking.

 Bodie was more than ready to oblige him. For longer than he could
remember, he'd been caught up in a muddle of conflicting feelings where
Ray Doyle was concerned. There was lust, certainly, but that particular
burden had been Bodie's constant companion almost from the day they'd been
teamed. Affection was always there, in large amounts, though circumstances
often challenged that feeling. They lived in a world of raw edges and
sharp corners and too often they got cut--or cut each other.

 And there was loyalty. Unquestioned, immutable loyalty. Bodie had given
it freely and never doubted it was returned in full measure.

 But this was unlike any touch they'd ever shared. Ray was now almost limp
in the circle of Bodie's arms, swaying them back and forth as his head
rolled against Bodie's shoulder. The scents of sweat and blood and smoke
brushed against Bodie's nose as he shifted Ray closer, ready for any sign
from Ray that the moment had stretched too long, but no sign was
forthcoming. Ray seemed content to remain in his kitchen forever, Bodie
wrapped around him like a warm rug.

 It wasn't enough for Bodie. Doyle was the more voluble of the pair but
right then, with Ray so snugly secured, he needed to know why.

 His first attempt at speech resulted in too many words clogging his
throat. So many questions had flown through his mind in those first few
minutes of physical connection--did it mean anything? Why now? Was Ray's
unmistakable desire to be held a one-off--and would anyone have sufficed?

 Before he could untangle his tongue--and his emotions--Ray shifted.
Inexplicably caught off guard by the movement, Bodie tightened his hold,
unwilling to face the inevitability of Ray's rejection, no matter how
gentle. Just as swiftly he let go, fitting a mask of calm to his face as
Ray slowly rotated to face him. He fully expected Ray to offer a sheepish
apology or make a joke about it, to want to pretend the last few moments
had never happened.

 But Bodie was to receive another surprise that day. Ray slid his hand
around Bodie's neck as his other hand landed on Bodie's shoulder, and
without giving Bodie any warning, guided his head downward to press their
lips together.

 For precious seconds, Bodie was held still with shock. The kiss was warm
and firm and entirely nonthreatening. While Bodie was still trying to
catch up to this development, Ray was moving his mouth against his in a
gentle caress that offered the very comfort Bodie was so anxious to give.
The stroke of fingertips through the hair at the base of his neck broke
him out of his immobility, and with a sound from his chest like the moan
of a man in pain, he swept Ray closer and returned the kiss with unabashed
fervor.

 With Bodie's participation, the kiss deepened and altered, hitting a
different level of emotion than Doyle's initial touch. Bodie clutched at
the fabric of Ray's shirt where it gathered at the top of his trousers and
swung them around until his hips were pressed against the counter's edge.
Doyle fitted himself between Bodie's parted legs, his arms now locked
around Bodie's neck.

 It was within this tight plait of limbs that Ray finally broke the kiss.
Bodie protested with an inarticulate sound and pressed his forehead to
Ray's in an attempt to forestall what was sure to be a heart-stopping
expression of regret for what had just occurred.

 Yet it seemed that Ray had one more surprise up his tattered,
blood-stained sleeve. He did not push Bodie away nor make any attempt to
remove himself from Bodie's slackening grip.

 "Bodie." The word was no more than a stirring of air touching Bodie's
ear.

 "I'm here."

 "You let me kiss you."

 "Yeah, noticed that, did you?"

 Uncertain laughter rocked them both. Bodie re-established his hold on his
partner, the tendrils of warmth gathering in his belly telling him that
they might survive this momentary madness.

 "So what's this all about?" he murmured. That Ray had chosen that moment
to lean most of his weight against Bodie had reassured him even more, and
he'd awaited Ray's explanation with a calmer, yet still rapidly beating
heart.

 Ray had shaken his head and looked away, giving Bodie a close look at the
still-forming bruise on Ray's cheekbone.

 "Come on," Bodie urged. "Tell me you're so knackered that you mistook me
for a bird in high heels and a short skirt and we can have a good laugh
about it. Or you can tell me the truth. Just pick one, mate. The suspense
is killing me."

 Ray's responsive grin quickly faded. "Don't know if you want to hear it."

 Bodie gave him a little shake. "Don't know that I have much choice."

 "Right." Ray visibly gathered himself, then laid his palm against Bodie's
face. "It's crazy, I know."

 "Nothing unusual there. And?"

 Ray's voice dropped to a gravelly whisper, his eyes locking with Bodie's.
"We're running out of time, Bodie."

 Bodie fought back a shiver. Ray could spew nonsense and make it sound
like God's own truth, but there was a haunted cast to the oddly-shaped
eyes as he continued.

 "Those people that died today, they left things undone. Words unsaid. The
people who loved them are wishing they'd kissed them goodbye this morning
instead of nagging them about wiping the dirt off their shoes when they
get home. They're thinking that if God would give them just one more
chance, they'd say and do everything they could to let that person know
that they loved them."

 Bodie swallowed, fighting the growing lump in his throat. "Ray--"

 Ray's hand drifted over Bodie's lips. "Let me finish. Then you can thump
me or laugh at me, whichever you prefer."

 "I'm fairly certain neither of those are going to happen, but go on."

 "All right." To Bodie's dismay, Ray disentangled himself and took a step
back, shoving his hands into his pockets. "I need more than this. More
than nutters in camo blowing things up for some stupid cause they barely
understand themselves. I need to know that some day I can put away the
guns and the cars and the bloody awful feeling that I may not see you
alive at the end of the day."

 Bodie's hands curled into loose fists. "You'll have none of that as long
as you work for our George," he said quietly. "That's also in the small
print."

 "There are certain things even Cowley can't control, though God knows he
would if he could. And one of those things is what I want from you."

 "Want?" After the past few minutes, Bodie doubted he could deny Ray
anything.

 Ray rubbed at his eyes, further irritating rims already reddened from
smoke and exhaustion. "Promise me something."

 "Depends."

 Ray scowled at him, but it carried no heat. "Wait for me."

 "Wait for you?" Fear put a crack in Bodie's voice. "Where are you going?"

 Ray sidled closer to Bodie but did not touch him. Those changeable eyes
were darker than Bodie could ever remember seeing them, drawing him
further into an enchantment that now seemed years in the making yet still
beyond his grasp.

 "Not going anywhere without you. That's the promise I want. That when all
this is over, one way or another, you'll be waiting."

 Bodie considered the request. Friendship for Doyle would always be there
and required no special commitment. Ray was asking for more, but how much
more?

 "Why wait at all?" Bodie couldn't see the logic of putting off something
they both obviously wanted so badly. At least he knew he did--Ray's
feelings on the subject were still a mystery. "We only have today, like
everyone else."

 "But we're not like everyone else," Ray sighed. "Listen to me. How many
bombs have we faced? How many terrorists? Face it, we have no odds in this
game anymore. We're only surviving by sheer dumb luck."

 "So let's change the odds." It was a reckless suggestion, but in the
moment, Bodie meant it. "One letter, two signatures, farewell drink with
the mob and we're done."

 Ray stared at him, and for a brief moment, Bodie thought he'd convinced
him. Then his eyes clouded and he dropped his gaze.

 "Too much unfinished business. We both have responsibilities and I'm not
talking about the job."

 Bodie didn't pretend to misunderstand. "It only takes a phone call to
break a date."

 "Or break a heart."

 "Ray, it's not like that with her."

 "Six months. I've been counting. Longest you've been with a girl since
I've known you."

 Bodie shrugged. "She's convenient and doesn't ask a lot of questions.
They're usually hunting around for curtains and asking to meet your family
after a week or two, so it's been a nice change."

 "Jesus, Bodie. That's a bit cold, even for you."

 "Look, I've never made her or any other woman the kind of promise you're
asking from me. And Christ knows I don't expect you to be convenient and
you ask more questions than the bloody Inquisition, so call me a
cold-hearted bastard all you want. I'm still saying yes to you."

 A reluctant smile had lifted one corner of Ray's mouth. "I don't know but
that almost sounds like a declaration of love, mate. 'Course I'll expect
the real thing from you some day."

 "Sounds like you've got this all worked out."

 Ray's face softened at the slightly aggrieved comment. "Thought I did.
All except the last part."

 "Last part?"

 "Erm, the kissing part. Wasn't too sure how you felt about kissing a
bloke."

 "Oh, that. I rather liked that part. Would actually like to try it again,
but first, I have a question."

 "Only one? Hardly up to your typical standards of interrogation."

 "Don't change the subject. You want me to wait. Because I'm a masochist,
I agreed. How long?"

 "Not long."

 Bodie rubbed at his chin. "That doesn't exactly narrow it down. How do I
know you'll still feel the way you do today?"

 "You won't have to worry about that."

 "I won't?"

 "Bodie," Ray remonstrated gently, "it's not as if I woke up this morning
and decided the only future I wanted was a future with you in it. It just
took something like to today to remind me that we may have very little
future left between the two of us."

 "Then we'll go to Cowley and tell him we're resigning. If he wants us to
stay, he'll have to take us on our terms."

 "Who's the the brave lad, then." Ray shook his head. "Whatever we decide,
it will have to wait until this job is over. Cowley won't thank us if we
drag our marital problems into work with us."

 Bodie ignored the hopeful twinge caused by the casual mention of
marriage. "And when this wait of yours is over, provided we're both still
alive and functioning, what shall you give me for a reward?"

 That's when they both knew that Bodie had surrendered with hardly a shot
being fired.

 "Reward?"

 "Yeah, my pressie for agreeing to this grand scheme."

 Ray insinuated his arms around Bodie's waist and Bodie enfolded him
automatically. This rough-edged, curly-headed slice of heaven had just put
him through hell, and it was no surprise that he'd loved nearly every
minute of it.

 "Me, you berk. That'll have to do, won't it."

 "And just what makes you think I'll oblige you?"

 For the first time, Ray's smile was blatantly flirtatious, and the
glimpse of that one imperfect tooth did what it always did, causing
Bodie's usually stalwart heart to double its pace. But a glimpse was all
he was allowed before Ray brought their lips together, and once again
Bodie was helpless in the wake of his own wholehearted enthusiasm.

 "That's how I know, you bastard," Ray whispered against Bodie's mouth.
"You kissed back."

 ******

They'd parted after one last, lingering kiss at the door. Ray had offered
Bodie the use of his couch, an offer Bodie had rejected with a silent tilt
of one expressive eyebrow. Cowley expected them at dawn, so it was with a
wounded sense of service beyond the call of duty that Bodie let himself
out of Ray's building, exhilarated, confused, and anxious for Ray to
declare that his wait was over.

 Then the one future that Ray had dreaded most had arrived. The next day,
Doyle had been knocked over a pile of broken concrete at Wembley and had
shattered the bones in his right knee. Several operations and innumerable
doctor's consultations later, it was clear to all of them that Ray was
permanently off the streets. Cowley had tried to convince him to stay on
in an administrative position, but Doyle, without consulting Bodie, had
refused.

 In between worrying about his partner and completing his own assignments,
Bodie had done as he'd promised and broken it off with his current
girlfriend. She'd taken it well and Bodie had been grateful for that, but
it'd hardly mattered. Ray's injury, the end of his career and the
unfulfilled promise of that terrible, wonderful day inhabited his every
waking thought. Ray had been stoic throughout the ordeal of his surgeries
and seemingly endless physio, but as it became clear that his days as 4.5
were over, Bodie had felt his withdrawal. He tried to understand Ray's
desire for space and had granted it to the best of his ability, knowing
that come the day they had to face up once again to their feelings, Ray
would think it was noble and right to let Bodie out of his promise.

 Bodie had no such benevolent aspirations. He didn't care about the
circumstances that had led to his promise, nor did he intend to break that
promise just because Ray thought he had less to offer him. He hadn't
fallen in love with 4.5, a number that now held no meaning, and he was
ready to bully his way into Ray's new life if he had no other choice.
Christmas had come and gone in a blur of festive activity that even Ray
had enjoyed, although he'd been careful to keep his distance from Bodie.
Bodie, understanding the tactics of delay when engaged with an adversary,
had chosen his time to confront Ray and lay claim to the vow they'd both
made.

 It was the one party that he'd had to talk Ray into attending, a private
CI5 affair given by a pair of newer agents that had the audacity to remind
Bodie of himself and Ray at a younger age. He hadn't really wanted to go
either, but he'd had an ulterior motive. He wanted Ray to see that CI5
would carry on without either of them, except Ray wasn't aware of that
particular fact. He did know that Bodie had attended a meeting with Cowley
earlier in the day and had acted quite unconcerned about it, not fooling
Bodie a bit.

 He'd offered to pick him up for the party but Ray had forcefully
declined, determined to be as independent as possible. Bodie had taken it
in stride, expecting nothing less but not allowing Ray's misplaced
belligerence to dissuade him from his own single-purposed objective of
reminding Ray that their future had arrived.

 Everything had been going according to plan. Bodie kept an unobtrusive
eye on the man he still considered his partner, watching him mingle with
old friends and new. He observed the exact moment when Doyle's smile went
from genuine to painted on, and when the proud set of the broad shoulders
began to droop. What he failed to see was Ray's exit from the party, but a
quick reconnaissance of the coat pile in the bedroom revealed that Ray's
leather coat and knit scarf were gone.

 Swearing softly, Bodie gathered his own coat and after a brief foray into
the host's kitchen, set out in pursuit of his partner.

 He found him sitting on a park bench, jean-clad legs stretched out across
the gravel path, booted feet crossed at the ankles. A nearby lamp offered
enough light for Bodie to see the preoccupied frown on Ray's face, but he
wasn't deterred. Limp, tobacco-colored leaves drifted around the solitary
figure, some landing on the slatted surface beside him, a space just large
enough for Bodie to fill. Ray acknowledged his presence with a sidelong
glance and a crooked smile before resuming his study of the brackish pond
that curved around them, giving them an isthmus of privacy in a park
already scarce of people in the chill twilight.

 Bodie copied the casual pose, deliberately jostling Ray's elbow as he
settled into the bench's unforgiving angles.

 "Fancy meeting you here." Bodie kept his tone light as he set his
purloined bottle on the ground beside his shoe. "Come here often?"

 The shadows around them were deepening and the air was taking on a
frost-sharpened edge. Bodie was aware of his surroundings, the people
hurrying along as they sought warmer environs and the raw scent of frozen
earth, but his entire attention was focused on the man at his side.

 Ray canted his head toward the bottle. "What's that?"

 "Not sure." Bodie grabbed the bottle by its neck and hoisted it close to
his eyes. "Apricot schnapps," he said, turning the label so Ray could see
it.

 Ray's face folded into a disapproving scrunch. "Foul stuff, that. Why'd
you bring it?"

 Bodie shrugged and cracked open the top. "It was the first thing I
grabbed on my way out the door." He took a sip and grimaced. "Next time I
steal something, I'll be more particular."

 He offered the bottle to Ray, who took it after a brief pause. He raised
the bottle to his lips and took a large swallow, followed by a discreet
cough in his elbow. Wedging the bottle on the bench between their thighs,
Ray settled back into the bench and cleared his throat.

 "Five years," he muttered. He scratched absently at his ribs, at a spot
just beneath his heart. "Five years and a month, give or take. Was late
autumn, anyway."

 Bodie squinted up into the darkening sky, not bothering to pretend that
he wasn't following Ray's train of thought. "Don't recall," he lied.

 Ray nodded, both of them knowing why Bodie shied away from a subject that
could no longer be avoided. "What did the Cow offer you?"

 Brushing away bits of leaf that had skidded onto his sleeve, Bodie kept
his tone light. "Pick of the lot. New or old, my choice."

 "Very nice," Ray said approvingly. "Decided yet?"

 "New lads are young, can get them to do all the footwork."

 Ray snorted. "They'll wet themselves first time anyone says boo."

 "On the other hand," Bodie continued, "an experienced agent won't have to
be trained."

 "Don't be so sure of yourself, sunshine. I'm not sure anyone who knows
you would have you."

 Bodie grunted, stretching one arm behind Doyle. Brushing another errant
leaf from Ray's shoulder, he shifted into the corner of the bench. He was
patient, content to let Doyle guide the conversation until they circled
round to the truth that lay before them.

 That moment came sooner than he'd expected.

 "I won't hold you to it."

 Baldly stated, Bodie was still aware of the turmoil of emotion behind the
simple words. He'd figured Doyle would eventually suggest the one
sacrifice neither of them wanted and was ready with his reply.

 "Sorry, Doyle. A promise is a promise and all that."

 Unsurprisingly, Doyle began arguing against the one thing of which Bodie
was most sure. "Was a while ago, mate. Things have changed."

 "I haven't. Neither have you, despite the hardware holding your knee
together." Bodie glanced at him. "And it wasn't that long ago. I remember
the circumstances quite clearly, even if you don't."

 "I remember." It was only a whisper, barely heard above the wind that
stirred the trees, but for Bodie it was the clarion call of his future.

 "Then the deal stands."

 Ray turned to him, meeting Bodie's eyes for the first time since he
arrived. "It's your *life*, Bodie. Cowley will give you anything you
want--"

 "Stop it, Ray." Bodie stood up abruptly and stepped onto the path.
Throwing Cowley at him was useless, but for some reason, Ray thought
invoking the name had more power than it did. "If you want out, tell me.
Just don't try and convince me it's what *I* want."

 He heard the crunch of rock beneath Doyle's heels as Ray struggled to his
feet. Fighting back his natural instinct, Bodie stayed where he was and
waited until Ray joined him at the water's edge, where they stood shoulder
to shoulder.

 "It was a daft idea, waiting."

 Bodie shrugged. "Not one of your brightest moments, but I agreed to it,
so what exactly does that make me? Besides, it hardly matters now, does
it? You're off the squad, I've resigned, and it's time we--"

 A strong hand clamped around his elbow and swung him around. Ray's eyes
were wide, disbelieving. "You what?"

 Bodie fitted his fingers around Ray's wrist and pulled him off. "You
heard the first time. It's your knee that's gotten you early retirement,
not your hearing. I quit."

 Bodie had no intention of staying without Doyle. Not only had he made a
promise, he'd found he'd finally lost his taste for the dirty business
he'd participating in for so long. He freely chose an uncertain future
with Ray over the sure thing Cowley had offered, and now they were facing
that future and each other in the murky half-light of a late December
evening.

 Ray tilted his head to allow a windblown curl to fall away from his eyes.
"I didn't think you'd walk away so quickly."

 "From the job, Ray." Bodie wanted to touch him, to offer him some small
comfort, but that privilege had yet to be granted. "Look," he continued,
"let's stop talking in riddles. Four weeks, three days and some odd hours
ago you made a proposal. I accepted. If I'm not--if this isn't what you
want, say it. The ink probably isn't dry on my resignation, so if you
didn't mean it, now would be a good time to mention it."

 "Jesus." Ray turned and limped away, revealing to Bodie's knowledgeable
eye a newly evident stiffness in the lean hips. After a deep sigh, Ray
turned and walked back to poke Bodie in the shoulder with the rubber tip
of his cane. "I meant it, you bastard. Every fucking word. Especially the
last bit--do you remember that?"

 "Remember it?" Bodie closed his eyes, almost lightheaded with relief.
"I'm counting on it." He opened his eyes and fixed Ray with stern glare
that was only partially faked. "Did you really think I'd give up so
easily? That you putting some stupid deadline on us was going to make me
lose interest? Damn it, Ray, I don't like being tested."

 "Wasn't meant to be a test, you moron. But," and he ground to a stop, the
hollow aggravation that had propelled him giving way to frustration as he
stared helplessly at Bodie.

 Bodie took a step closer to him. "What?" He asked it gently, weeks of
breathless waiting culminating in this moment. It was dark, and getting
colder, but Bodie didn't notice. He wanted only one thing and only Doyle
could give it to him.

 "I wanted to walk away that day."

 Cold fear clutched at Bodie's chest. "Walk?" *From me?*

 "Yeah. Was ready to give Cowley notice and to hell with the job."

 "Why didn't you?"

 Ray's mouth twisted into a wry smile. "D'you recall what I said to you?
About waiting?"

 "Every ruddy word. You said, and I quote, not long," Bodie reminded him.
It was hard to read Doyle's expression in the dark, so he pressed on.
"It's been too damn long. Past time for us to get on with it, don't you
agree?"

 Head lowered, Ray pounded the ground with his cane. "Take a good look,
Bodie. You know what the doctors said. It'll be years before I can walk
without this damn cane, if ever."

 "All right, so your marathon days are over. It was bound to happen
eventually, to both of us. You were just first."

 "Yeah, but you're not--"

 "That's enough," Bodie barked, then sighed. "If you want me to say it,
I'll say it. You still want me, I'm yours. I don't give a fuck about your
knee and I don't care what you can and can't do. But if you've changed
your mind, for God's sake say so. My feet are freezing."

 Ray stared at him before a reluctant smile creased his face. "I haven't
changed my mind. And if you'd changed yours, you wouldn't be the Bodie I
know and love."

 "So what was all this nonsense about then? 'I won't hold you to it,
Bodie'," he mocked indignantly. "'Things change, Bodie. Cowley will kiss
your toes to keep you, Bodie'."

 "Well, he offered to, didn't he?"

 "Don't know if it qualifies as an offer to kiss my toes, but he did say
he'd let me shine his ghillie brogues every other Sunday if I behave."

 Doyle looked suitably impressed. "And you turned that down? Must be love,
then."

 "Must be, otherwise I'd have left you to hobble home on your own three
feet instead of offering you a ride back to my flat."

 "Your flat?" Ray balked automatically. "Why your flat?"

 "Because, Raymond my lad, thirty-one days is thirty days and twenty-three
hours too long to wait. Also, so you can try once more to explain the
labyrinthine workings of that twisted mind of yours." He took Ray's elbow
and guided him around to begin their slow progress down the park path.
"And then, after I've failed yet again to fathom your reasoning, we'll try
communicating on an altogether different plane, one that I am sure will
lead to perfect understanding for both of us."

 Ray jerked his elbow out of Bodie's grasp, then slid his hand firmly into
the cup of Bodie's palm. "I'll use small words, I promise."

 They continued to bait each other on the long, careful walk back to the
car. Once inside, when Ray pointed out yet another perfectly good reason
why he'd offered Bodie every chance to back out of his agreement, Bodie
grabbed him gently round the neck and pulled him in for a heated kiss that
was full of another, infinitely more compelling sort of promise.

 -- THE END --

 *December 2007*

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