The Professionals Circuit Archive - Not a Resigning Matter	   Not a
Resigning Matter

 

by Claire Dobbin 

 
 The phone rang -- a harmless enough occurrence in the life of the average
person, but one that regularly spelled imminent danger for a CI5 agent.
Raymond Doyle looked at the telephone and breathed a pithy curse. Two
minutes later and he’d have been off duty and not obliged to carry his
R.T. He’d have escaped this dire summons. It had to be Cowley. It couldn’t
be Cassie; she knew he was on his way to pick her up. And it wasn’t Bodie,
he was off somewhere with Stephanie, sulking because Cowley had already
ruined his weekend plans. So it had to be Cowley. He stood indecisively
allowing his sense of fair play to battle with his sense of duty.

 "Fuck!" He picked up the phone.

 It wasn’t Cowley, it was Bodie. A very sheepish Bodie.

 "Ah, Ray...listen, mate...sorry to bother you...hope it isn’t a crucial
moment --"

 "You’ve got thirty seconds. I’m on my way out the door. Cassie and I have
a dinner reservation in," he glanced at his watch, "thirty minutes."

 "Oh..."

 There was a long pause.

 "Well?" asked Ray, his patience ebbing.

 "I was going to ask a favour."

 There was another long pause.

 "Stop pissing around, Bodie. What do you want?"

 "Never mind, sunshine, you go ahead..." a wave of depressed,
self-sacrifice washed down the phone line "...enjoy your dinner. I'll work
something out."

 Ray noticed that Bodie had failed to lend conviction to the statement by
saying goodbye and hanging up.

 "I must need my head looked at! Why am I not saying, Fine, see you on
Monday?" Ray wondered aloud.

 "Because you're a brick?" Bodie asked, hopefully.

 "As far as you're concerned, mate, I'm a prat. What is it?"

 "I'm in Luton...sort of standed."

 "What do you mean stranded? Where's Stephanie?"

 "In darkest Shropshire I should imagine." "You two have a row?"

 "Eh...no, look I'll explain later. Can you come fetch me?"

 "What's wrong with your car?" He didn't wait for an answer. "Haven't you
ever heard of a taxi?"

 "Is this your idea of twenty questions? All I asked was a simple favour."

 "Okay, okay, I'll collect you, but I'll have to stop by Cassie's to pick
her up first."

 "Good, she can drive my car back."

 "We aim to please," Ray said sarcastically, "where exactly are you?"

 "Fairley Hill Hospital...Casualty Department."

 "Hospital?" Alarm leapt into Ray's voice. "Are you alright?"

 "Fine...it's not even broken."

 "What?"

 The line went dead. Ray flapped around like a beached fish, worry and
anger vying for control. He slammed out of the flat and by the time he had
picked up Cassie and was halfway to Luton he'd worked out the most likely
explanation for Bodie's predicament -- and he didn't like it. Bodie was so
stubborn and he had an underhanded streak that Ray didn't like sometimes.
If the theory was right, his partner had well and truly landed himself in
it this time and Ray intended to make sure he didn't get caught up in the
repercussions.

 Cassie was sullenly staring out of the car window. He'd had a tough time
coaxing her to accompany him once she'd heard about the detour. He figured
this was the final straw as far as she was concerned. One change of plans
too many on top of all the interrupted dates and last minute
cancellations. He was sorry. He liked Cassie and she had coped with his
crazy lifestyle with patience. He'd used it all up though, that much was
plain in her body language.

 Pulling into the ambulance bay he spied his partner sitting just inside
the swing doors, clutching a weekend bag and sporting a heavy bandage on
his right ankle. Ray got out of the car and leaned back against it,
favouring Bodie with a jaundiced look. Bodie simply shrugged and struggled
to hind his balance as he got to his feet. Reluctantly Ray crossed over to
him, took his bag and helped him over to the car.

 "Hello Cassie," Bodie said cheerfully enough for one who had just mangled
a limb.

 She ignored the greeting. Once he was settled Ray followed the sign posts
to the public car park. This was where Bodie informed him some unspecified
'friend' had left his car.

 "Cassie can drive me in my car, Ray," Bodie said, making an abortive
attempt to change cars.

 "Not bloody likely, mate, you owe me an explanation. Remember?"

 Ray helped him move into the front passenger seat. "You can tell me the
whole story on the way back. That way Cassie and I won't be delayed
anymore than is absolutely necessary."

 This was for Cassie's benefit, but it did little to sweeten her
expression.

 "Hand over the keys," Ray ordered.

 Cassie took them and spoke to Ray, "Don't drive so fast, if I'm to follow
you."

 "Right, love."

 Bodie rolled down his window. "Go easy on the clutch, luv, she's as
sensitive as --"

 "Get stuffed, Bodie."

 "- your own sweet self."

 Ray smirked at his as he slid into the driver's seat.

 "Something I said?" Bodie questioned with well practised innocent
expression.

 "More likely the fact that you exist. Me too, I think. I promised a
CI5-free weekend. Not even my natural charm will smooth this over."

 There was regret in the words and in the tone but it was noticeably low
key.

 "So...let's hear it," Ray said, glancing in the mirror to make sure
Cassie was still in sight.

 "Hear what?"

 "I crossed London in the rush hour to hear this story...come on, spill
it."

 Bodie shifted uneasily in the seat. "Would you believe I slipped getting
out of the bath?"

 "Oh yeah, then got dressed and drove twenty miles to a hospital on the
other side of the city."

 He snorted in derision at Bodie's hurt look.

 "It's not funny, Ray."

 Ray's ear to ear grin indicated he thought otherwise and Bodie's
expression became more anguished.

 "I'm serious here, mate...I may never tap dance again, you know."

 "That's a mercy," Ray said solemnly.

 The comment made Bodie crack up and they both exploded in laughter.

 "You're going to need to do some tap dancing when Cowley finds out about
this," Ray said, sobering up. "I was there when he expressly ordered you
not to go parachuting this weekend."

 "What's it got to do with him anyway? How I spend my off-duty is none of
his business. If I hadn't mentioned Malcolm's name he'd never have known
about it."

 "That'll teach you to keep your big mouth shut. Anyway, it's done
now...no point crying over spilled milk."

 Bodie folded his arms and pouted sulkily.

 "Was Malcolm the friend who left your car in the car park?"

 "Yeah, he had to get back to the base. You know how long they keep you
waiting in casualty." He sank into a depressed slouch in the seat. "Bet he
put the evil eye on me."

 "Who Malcolm?" Ray asked.

 "No... Cowley, of course!"

 "Oh sure, the fact that you chose to take part in a dangerous sport like
freefall parachuting had nothing to do with it, I suppose."

 "It didn't happen in a jump. I didn't get that far --" Bodie rushed
unthinkingly into speech.

 Ray homed in on the slip like a heat seeking missile.

 "How did it happen then?"

 "Does it make any difference?"

 "How?"

 There was a long and on Bodie's part embarrassing silence but Ray, the
insistent little sod, was not to be put off.

 "I tripped getting into the plane," he said, sheepishly, "twisted my
ankle as I fell."

 Ray made a huge effort not to laugh and almost succeeded. "Well, at least
you can honestly say you didn't go parachuting."

 "You think he'll believe that?"

 "Not a snowball in Hell's chance, considering your track record."

 "Thanks a bunch, mate."

 They lapsed into silence as the journey finished outside Bodie's flat.
Ray got out to help his partner from the car. They had reached the front
door when Cassie pulled into the space behind Ray's car.

 "Won't be long darlin'," Ray told her. "I'll just see him inside."

 "Don't bother, Ray...it's really not worth it."

 She crossed to the main road and hailed a passing cab.

 "Sorry about that Ray. I could call her later, apologize --"

 "Forget it...par for the course," was Ray's response.

 "Tell you what, I'll treat you to dinner...if you don't mind going to the
takeaway."

 "How can I turn down such a gracious invitation?"

 Bodie placed his arm around his partner's shoulders and began hopping up
the two flights of stairs to his flat. Leaving a weary Bodie on the couch,
Ray went to fetch home the fish and chips. An hour later they had finished
their meal, Ray had washed and put away the dishes and they had settled
down to spend the rest of the evening together in front of the box.

 "Does it hurt much?" Ray asked with genuine concern.

 "Nah, well I suppose the painkillers are helping, but it's not that bad.
The doc said three to four weeks and it will be as good as new."

 "You're okay, I can't remember the last time you took sick leave." Ray
reminded him. "I mean, if you keep your nerve and look the Cow straight in
the eye, he'll have to believe you when you tell him you tripped over your
own feet, won't he?"

 Bodie favoured him with a jaundiced look. "I was wondering how long it'd
be before you started enjoying my predicament."

 "What do you mean? I'm trying to be positive. It's the truth, isn't?
That's what happened?"

 "Yeah, but you know I'll never get away with it. He'll know before I even
open my mouth."

 "That's your guilty conscience."

 "I haven't done anything to be guilty about..." he halted at his
partner's wry look. "Not this time anyway. Why can't I do what I want in
my off-duty time? He finished, his voice rising in irritation.

 "You're right. Just keep that in mind when you go in to see him," Ray
agreed. "Then...lie through your teeth."

 "Thanks! Such a bloody fuss over nothing... I mean it's not as if it's
broken or anything..." His voice trailed away and an expression passed
over his face that Ray didn't like the look of.

 "Whatever the scheme is Bodie, count me out."

 "Just listen --"

 "No! You'll just have to go in and take your medicine."

 "But --"

 "But nothing, Bodie. Forget it...and turn up the tele."



 As Ray accompanied his scheming sod of a partner into headquarters on
Monday morning he tried to identify the moment at which his resolve
cracked in the face of Bodie's crazy logic. Sometime around Sunday lunch
he thought. Bodie had missed his calling in life -- he should have been a
double glazing salesman. He'd certainly sold him a bill of goods. Somehow
Ray had been convinced that the best thing to do was to cover up Bodie's
injury.

 Bodie's persuasive pitch had sounded reasonable at eleven o'clock the
previous night after two bottles of plonk, now he wasn't so sure. Fair
enough, things were unusually quiet and they were assigned to a low key
operation involving observing suspects and making routine enquiries. They
were seldom at H.Q. and Ray could do whatever leg work was required.
Bodie's injury was certainly not going to affect him aim. Anyway, he was
able to get about well enough; he'd proved that at the weekend. It had all
sounded very straight forward in the fuzzy alcoholic haze -- the cold
light of day was not so accommodating.

 At least no one seemed to have noticed Bodie hanging back and walking at
a more sedate pace than usual. Ray had to admit his partner was covering
the injury well. He wondered if it was painful.

 "Coffee?" Bodie asked nodding towards the V.I.P. lounge.

 "Yeah, pour me a cup. Then we can be on our way as soon as I've logged us
in."

 Ray turned left into operations and walked straight into Cowley.

 "You're late, 4.5," was the greeting.

 "Sorry, Sir, got stuck in traffic on London Bridge."

 "Hmm..." Cowley seemed unimpressed with the excuse.

 "I'm on my way to the airport. I've been asked to address the
anti-terrorism conference in Brussels."

 He handed Ray a file.

 "I'm leaving you and Bodie to run your assignment. Stay with it and don't
upgrade it in any way until I return. Report to Operations as usual. Is
that clear?"

 "Yes, Sir," Ray answered, unable to believe their luck. "How long will
you be gone Sir?"

 "A week...allowing for travelling time and all the social niceties."

 "Enjoy your visit, Sir," Ray offered.

 Cowley's glower was expressive of his feelings on the matter.

 "Ready Murphy?"

 Agent 6.2 picked up his boss's bag and placidly followed him out of the
building.

 There was a spring on Ray Doyle's step as he logged in and headed for the
V.I.P. lounge. Once inside he was greeted with the sight of Bodie grinning
from ear to ear.

 "You've heard."

 He took his mug of coffee from his smug partner. Trying to keep anything
quiet in C.I.5, apart from operational info, was a King Canute exercise.
Already the atmosphere had lightened and Cowley had only been gone two
minutes.

 "Someone up there likes me," Bodie remarked.

 "Nah, more like the Devil looking after his own," Ray countered.

 That earned him a gentle clip on the ear -- which he didn't mind at all.



 They soon settled into a routine. Ray did all the driving and
interviewing while Bodie maintained a vigilant watch on his partner from
the car. He also wrote up all the reports thoroughly and without demur.
They avoided going to H.Q. and their usual haunts, spending all their off
duty time together in Bodie's flat. Bodie's check-up at the outpatient
clinic confirmed that the tissue was healing well and the doctor was able
to put a lighter strapping on. Certainly things could not have been
quieter on the job and they both, for once, welcomed the tedious,
repetitive nature of their case.

 Everything was well under control -- which is why the unexpected turn of
events hit them both so hard. One minute Ray was harmlessly chatting to an
informant on a doorstep, the next he was gone, dragged inside, presumably
disarmed and restrained. Bodie quelled the panic that rushed through him
like a freight train. He cursed as he fumbled for his RT in the glove
compartment and changed to different frequency before calling in to demand
back up. As soon as he began to move the realization of how badly
handicapped he was hit him hard. He drew his gun and exited through the
driver's door, using the cover afforded him to assess the situation.

 The front door of the house had remained closed and there was no sign of
movement within. Whoever had Ray knew he was there but they had made no
attempt to neutralize him. The file had said the house was occupied by a
small-time hoodlum who operated as a fence. Ray knew the man from his time
in the Met. There was no way he'd take on Doyle, so something else was
going on here and because it threatened his partner, Bodie was frantic.

 He chafed a the idea of waiting for back-up to arrive and skirted along
the line of parked cars until he was out of the line of sight of anyone in
the house. An opening in the terrace gave him access to the rear of the
buildings and he moved towards the house counting off the back door
numbers as he went. The door into the backyard was half open. He leaned
back into the wall and listened hard. He could hear nothing. He took out
his R.T.

 "Bodie here, I'm at the rear of 37, Langford Street. What's the status of
back-up?"

 A cackle of static .... Then, "E.T.A. two minutes...wait it out Bodie!"
Murphy ordered.

 What choice did he have? Go in there in this condition? After an agony of
waiting, his R.T. came to life and Jackson spoke.

 "We're in position, Bodie. Four of us here. Milne's on his way to you."

 "Right, straight forward entry on my signal. Ready?"

 "Give us a minute, there are bystanders to be cleared!"

 "For Christ's sake hurry up."

 Silence greeted him as Milne took up position beside him.

 "You'll have to go in first," Bodie said, "I've hurt my leg."

 "Yeah, we noticed."

 Guilt and annoyance rippled through Bodie. The R.T. crackled again.

 "Ready here...on the count of five."

 Bodie pocketed his R.T. as Milne kicked open the back door of the house
and was in through the kitchen before Bodie was into the yard. That set
the pattern. The squad went through the house by the book. They found Ray
in a back bedroom, held at gunpoint by two kids who gave up as soon as
they were challenged. By the time Bodie stumbled in, the dust had settled
and the two would-be kidnappers were handcuffed and on their way out.

 "You okay?" Ray asked his breathless partner.

 Bodie nodded, white-faced and tense. "You?"

 "I'm okay. Come on, Jackson's going to clean up here."

 He took the gun from Bodie's hand and re-holstered it, then he guided his
partner downstairs to the grubby hallway where Murphy was waiting.

 "How'd they get the jump on you?" Murphy asked, his expression and tone
the usual study in passivity.

 Ray, angry at himself as much as Bodie, bristled.

 "Wasn't expectin' it. You know Bateson doesn't do business here...likes
to keep his 'residence' clean of the riff raff he fences for."

 He glanced over at Bodie who was staring at the carpet.

 "Those two dipsticks turned up on spec with a couple of car stereos. They
took one look at my I.D. and panicked. Another five minutes, I'd have
talked them into handing the gun back."

 Murphy nodded non-judgementally.

 "We better get back," Ray said, "make a report...you know."



 They drove back to H.Q. in silence and started the paperwork. Needing a
break from the tedium, Ray offered to make them a mug of tea. When he
returned Bodie was nowhere to be seen.

 "Where'd Bodie go?" he asked the office clerk.

 "Went to see the doc, I think."

 Ray quickly finished up his own report and followed his partner down to
sickbay where he found Bodie propped up on the examination couch with Dr.
Agnew re-strapping his ankle.

 "That's a nasty tear, 3.7," the doctor commented. "It's going to need
another week to heal, then I'll pencil you in for a couple of weeks
physio. Try to keep off it as much as you can and make sure you put an ice
pack on two or three times a day."

 "Thanks, doc," Bodie said, easing himself into a standing position. "Will
you take me home, Ray?"

 "Let's go."



 The journey to Bodie's flat was completed in silence. Bodie flopped down
onto the couch and hoisted his injured up onto the coffee table.

 "You want something to eat?" Ray questioned, hovering over his partner.

 "No...thanks."

 "Want a drink?"

 "No."

 Ray fidgeted around for a couple of minutes, then picked up his car keys.

 "Look, mate, I'll head on. I'll call you tomorrow. Okay?"

 Bodie looked up at him, jolted out of his contemplation.

 "Don't go, Ray...not yet," he asked.

 "Okay." Ray flopped down onto the couch beside him, totally at a loss
about how to deal with Bodie's guilty depression.

 He'd seen Bodie in many different moods, but this was new. Ten, long,
silent minutes went by before Bodie spoke.

 "Ray, how do I say it? How do I say I'm sorry?"

 "Think you just did," Ray told him.

 Bodie looked unconvinced.

 "Look mate, I was never in any danger. They were scared shitless kids --"

 "That was just good luck," Bodie interrupted.

 "I'm as much to blame," Ray told him. "First, I totally misread the
situation, then I made a balls of it. It should never have happened."

 "Exactly, and it's my fault it did. If there'd been two of us on that
doorstep they'd never have tried it on."

 "Yeah," Ray agreed, "don't make the mistake of thinking I'm not pissed
off about the whole situation. You were out of line, Bodie...but I was
worse for going along with it."

 He dropped his head back to rest on the couch.

 "We're long enough in this outfit to know there's taking a risk and
there's acting the bloody fool. I think we've both grown a little older
and wiser today."

 "Why did you go along with it, Ray?" Bodie questioned in a quiet voice.

 "What are you going to tell Cowley?" Ray used the most simple
counter-interrogation technique: a question answered with a question.

 "The truth," Bodie answered, fixing Ray with a look that brooked no
evasion. "Why did you go along with it?"

 "It just seemed the easiest way. You know what would have happened.
Cowley'd have flipped. You'd have been in the doghouse for God knows how
long and I'd have been stuck with some bloody trainee..." he was running
out of steam "...because it was you...because you asked me to."

 "Is that a good enough reason to put your life on the line?"

 "In general...yes, though there are times I wonder...especially when you
ask stupid questions like that," Ray snapped.

 Bodie's expression became shuttered and he looked away. The hurt in his
body language made Ray relent.

 "You're my partner, Bodie. I owe you my life a dozen times over. I want
to do right by you...protect you from it all...even Cowley."

 The humour fell flat and Bodie looked into his eyes.

 "So how do you think I feel, Ray? I didn't do right by you today."

 Doyle huffed in irritation.

 "Cut the bleeding heart, mate. You've wallowed long enough."

 "It's different for you, Ray, you don't -- " Bodie somehow halted the
damning rush of words.

 "Don't what? Go on, finish it...don't what?"

 Bodie was struck dumb. He knew Ray didn't understand the potential
disaster he was courting. Ray couldn't ever know the truth. To save them
both he went off on a tangent.

 "You don't know what it's like to have to wait for back-up to see if
you've killed your partner or not."

 Watching Ray's face soften, he knew the ploy had worked.

 "I've a pretty good idea, Bodie...look, let's just leave it. Okay?"

 Bodie was only too happy to go along with that. "I'll put the kettle on
now," he offered.

 Ray halted him. "I'll do it, mate. You're going to need all your strength
to face Cowley."

 He ignored his partner's groan as he walked into the kitchen.



 Three days of enforced idleness, with Ray at H.Q. on twenty-four hour
operational standby had reduced Bodie to a state of hopeless depression.
He stared morosely at the flickering images on the box. Cowley was going
to flay him alive, then he'd give him every lousy assignment he could
think of for the next month -- assuming, that is he still had a job.

 'Professional misconduct, negligence, stupidity!'

 Bodie could already hear Cowley's tirade and what hurt most was that it
was true.

 So his career was in the toilet...and his life was going nowhere. Well,
that's what happened when you were in love with your straight, skirt
chasing partner. A gorgeous, sexy man who made you ache with longing every
time he moved, or spoke or looked into your soul with those green, all
knowing eyes. Living with the need was tough enough, now he had to add
guilt to the mix. He sighed and reached across to the phone and dialled
the number for H.Q.



 Ray Doyle sat sprawled out in a chair in the V.I.P. lounge taking the
rare opportunity to daydream. For the past three days he'd been run
ragged, working cover on virtually every current eyeball op while Bodie
cooled his heels at home. He mused for a while on the nature of the
punishment Cowley's warped imagination would come up with for both of
them. Bodie may have been the instigator, but he knew that Cowley would
see it the way he did himself - that they were equally guilty and in need
of correction. The possibilities made him grimace, but more worrisome for
him was Bodie's avoidance of him. They'd had one short, uneasy phone
conversation, other than that he'd gotten only the busy signal or no reply
at all.

 Not so surprising since Bodie was officially on sick leave and didn't
have to wait by the phone. He was probably out on the prowl. Being cooped
up in his flat would drive Bodie 'stir crazy'. Ray understood, he was
feeling a bit like that himself. Being cut off from his partner was like
losing some important extra sense or like waking up to find that the
person closest to you in the whole world had suddenly vanished.

 Murphy's voice broke into his contemplation.

 "Ray, thought you're partner was injured?"

 "He is," Ray assured him.

 "Just spoke to him, waiting to see Cowley in his lair. Dressed like a
soldier on parade."

 "What the hell...Cowley's back?"

 "I fetched him in from the airport an hour ago."

 "Oh my God..."

 Ray clutched at his hair. A terrible apprehension seized him. Something
had been bugging his partner even before this mess had blown up in their
faces but because getting Bodie to talk about anything personal was like
pulling teeth, he'd let it slide. Suddenly he knew Bodie was about to do
something really stupid. He took off for Cowley's office and sure enough
there was Bodie, standing grim-faced and resolute. He glanced up as Ray
rounded the corner and skidded to a halt.

 "What are you doing, Bodie?"

 "What?"

 "Why are you seeing Cowley," Ray demanded exasperated.

 "That's my business."

 "I'm your partner, that makes it my business."

 "No, I forfeited that."

 "Don't be so fuckin stu-" Ray's words caught in his throat at the sight
of the white envelope in Bodie's hand.

 "What's that?" he demanded.

 Bodie held up the envelope. "It's for Cowley. I need a change --"

 "Oh no you don't...not without talking to me first...you owe me that
much."

 A look of confusion spread across Bodie's face and it intensified when
Ray stated, "You're not giving him that!"

 "What?" Bodie asked perplexed.

 "You heard me."

 "Okay, okay, don't get your knickers in a twist. You can come over
tonight...we can talk about it then."

 "Give me that envelope!"

 "Piss off, Ray," Bodie insisted, slipping the envelope into his breast
pocket.

 "You give him that," Ray warned, "and he just might call your bluff."

 A light switched on in Bodie's head and his confusion fled. He looked at
Ray's agitated expression and had to hold back the smile that bubbled up
in him. Instead he turned his mouth down and said, "So what? Better for
you if he did. You might get a partner who'll look after you."

 "You're bloody pathethic, don't you think you've milked this enough?"

 "I didn't ask for your opinion. So if you don't like what you see, then
fuck off!"

 They were now shouting at each other and Ruth suddenly appeared out of
Cowley's office.

 "The Major is on the phone to the Commissioner in Brussels. I'm sure
neither of them want to listen to you too having a slanging match," she
scolded.

 She stepped back and closed the door with an abrupt snap.

 Bodie's faux anger subsided immediately, but Ray was too frantic. He
needed to thrash this out with Bodie and he didn't want to do it in front
of an audience.

 "Come on," he said, taking Bodie by the arm.

 "Get lost, Ray!"

 Bodie pulled free, but Ray was not so easily put off.

 "I mean it...let's get out of here."

 He managed to pull his partner part way down the corridor, mostly because
Bodie was still favouring his injured leg.

 "Cowley's waiting to see me..."

 "You can't make things worse than they already are, so come on..."

 He steered his resisting partner to the back of the building where the
computer section was housed. Once there, he shoved him into a small
storage room and closed and locked the door behind them.

 "Okay, let's hear it. What are you playing at?" Ray demanded.

 "I'm not playing at anything. This is deadly serious."

 "You can say that again. No fucking way am I going to let you mess up
your life, Bodie. I mean it. Or mine either...cause in case you haven't
noticed, we're kind of in this together."

 "Too right, that's why I'm getting out," Bodie stated.

 "I must be slow today," Ray said sarcastically, "but I'd like to know how
you turning tail and running is going to help me out."

 Bodie looked incredulous. "Don't you remember? I nearly got you killed."

 "Believe me, I remember...but we're not really talking about that are
we?"

 "What do you mean?" Bodie asked, his voice almost a whisper and his heart
hammering in anticipation of where this might be headed.

 "I know you better than you think," Ray said with slow deliberation.
"You're not hurting enough to resign over what happened...it's something
else.

 Shit, Bodie thought, this is really going to happen. I'm going to tell
Ray how I feel about him...he wants me to tell him.

 He felt dizzy. His stomach churning in fear, his heart soaring with the
possibility that Ray might understand...and might possibly feel something
for him beyond the loyalty and affection of a partner who's primary role
was to mind your back.

 He opened his mouth, but the words he needed to say wouldn't come out.
Instead, he heard himself say, "Christ, Ray, I nearly --"

 "Got me killed," Ray finished for him. " I know, I was there. I agree,
you did...and I helped. You've apologized, I've accepted your apology.
We've both learned our lesson and God knows Cowley will have his pound of
flesh. Now, tell me what's really going on?"

 Bodie closed his eyes and leaned back against the shelving unit. A long
sigh escaped his lips.

 Say it, you fucking coward, he admonished himself.

 "God damn you, Bodie, answer me!"

 Suddenly, Ray's words broke through the dam of fear that had built itself
strong and high in Bodie's psyche.

 "You want an answer? I'll give you an answer...I love you...I'm in love
you with you. I have been since the day we met."

 Ray recoiled form the vehemence of Bodie's response. It was not the tone
usually associated with such a declaration. Bodie took a long, steadying
breath.

 "I've answered you, now let me go. Please, Ray. I just want out."

 He moved towards the door, but Ray stepped into his path.

 "You really think I'm going to let you walk away after you've just said
the words I've wanted to hear for the past three years?"

 Bodie looked like he'd been struck by lightning. It took a full minute
for him to process the words that Ray had spoken. A slow grin spread
across his face.

 "You bastard! Why did I have to be the one to say it?"

 "You think I'd take the risk of telling you that you wanted me? I'm too
attached to my teeth, mate. You had to say it for yourself."

 Bodie's face clouded.

 "It's more than wanting, Ray. This is about loving...I want it all,
sunshine."

 Ray smiled at him, then looked away. When he turned back, he gathered
Bodie possessively into his arms and took his mouth in a deep, lingering
kiss that ignited and sealed the intense, passionate connection they had
shared from day one.

 "Shit," Bodie murmured into Ray's ear, his body screaming with the need
that had been aroused in him, his mind reeling from the release he felt in
Ray's arms.

 A noisy, insistent rattling of the door handle poking into Ray's back
brought them back to earth with a jolt. A final irritated thump on the
door was followed by the sound of retreating footsteps. Ray pulled free of
the embrace.

 "We need to get out of here," he whispered.

 He straightened Bodie's tie.

 "You have an appointment to keep."

 "What appointment?"

 "Remember Cowley? Our lord and master? Who's probably chomping at the bit
as we speak. You'd better say you've come to apologize. You know the
drill, grovel."

 He stilled the caressing hands of his partner and unlocked the door.

 "Ready?"

 "Gimme a minute."

 He adjusted himself and took a couple of calming breaths.

 "Okay." He nodded.

 Carefully, Ray opened the door and glanced up and down the corridor.

 "Clear," he said, quietly. "Let's go."

 They stepped out into the hall and Bodie had to drag his eyes away from
the bulge in Ray's skin hugging jeans.

 "I'm going home now," Ray said. "Be quick, you've kept me waiting long
enough.

 He stepped away, but hesitated and turned back. Reaching into Bodie's
breast pocket, he extracted the envelope with Cowley's name on the front.

 "Just in case the Cow winds you up to the point where you do something
really stupid."

 He moved to put it in his own pocket, but Bodie caught him by the wrist
and took the letter out of his hand. With one easy movement, he tore it
into four pieces and dropped it into a waste paper basket. That earned him
a long, indulgent Doyle smile that promised him just about anything his
heart desired. Quelling the natural response he felt, he headed back
towards Cowley's office and began framing in his mind what he'd say to the
Old Man to explain his sudden change of heart regarding his request for a
fortnight's leave. But he wasn't really worried. He'd always been good at
thinking on his feet.

 Hadn't he just proved it?

 Wiping the broad grin off his face, he knocked confidently on Cowley's
office door.

 -- THE END --

 *redrafted April 2008*

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