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Musings: Bodie
by Lianne Burwell
April 1998
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Bodie stared up at the ceiling, examining the stains there. Strange how 
he never noticed them except when he couldn't sleep. He was exhausted, 
but too tired to fall asleep.

This last op had been draining. Stakeouts and investigation. On call, 
round the clock, for days, waiting for the final crack in the case. 
Finally the call. The gun fight when the crooks fought back. Tension, 
lack of sleep, then the burst of adrenaline had all combined to create a 
rare case of insomnia.

He rolled over, looking for a position he might be able to fall asleep 
in, and couldn't help smiling. Stretched out next to him was his partner, 
sprawled out in the way that only Doyle could sprawl. He reached out to 
brush away a curl that had fallen over Ray's eyes. When awake, Ray was 
like a coiled spring, always ready to move. Controlled tension. But 
asleep was a different matter. Asleep, all the tension drained away, 
leaving him as relaxed as a sleeping cat.

It was hard to remember the hostility between them when they were first 
partnered. He had wanted to work alone. Ray had to work with anyone *but* 
an ex-mercenary. He'd told Bodie, years later, that he'd originally 
thought of mercenaries, killers for hire, as being no different from the 
street gangs he'd dealt with as a copper. Bodie had laughed, and told him 
that most of the time, he'd be right. Bodie had always considered himself 
an exception by any standards.

At first they'd worked together simply because they hadn't wanted to look 
bad in front of their new boss, George Cowley. Both of them had wanted to 
be part of CI5, and weren't going to let *anything* screw up their 
chances of staying. But they quickly came to respect each other's 
abilities. With respect had grown reluctant affection, then friendship, 
until neither could imagine trusting anyone else to watch their backs.

But the real shocker had been falling in love. Sex was one thing. Sex was 
easy. They'd been sleeping together, off and on, almost since they'd 
decided to be friends. It was good to have someone to turn to when you 
didn't have the energy to chat up a bird, when sex was all you really 
wanted. Love had taken longer, creeping up on them while they weren't 
looking. One day they'd turned around and realized that they were 
sleeping together almost every night, whether they had sex or not. They 
automatically took their vacations together. Their fellow agents joked at 
how you never saw one without the other.

Love. Both of them had been looking for it for years, but always with 
women. Men were for fun, women were for love. But there they were, in 
love. It had taken them months to actually admit it to themselves and 
each other. Bodie had even tried running from it, taking a leave of 
absence and going to stay at a friend's cottage in Wales, not telling Ray 
where he was going. Three days later, Ray was on his doorstep, demanding 
to know what was wrong. His partner had tracked him down with the same 
determination he used to track down criminals.

Bodie was still stroking Ray's face, and the sleeping man nuzzled his 
hand. That day at the cottage, it was the first time they'd made love. 
Not sex, not physical gratification, not an expression of matey 
affection. They'd made *love*.

When they had got back to London, they'd gone to Cowley. He hadn't been 
at all surprised to hear that they'd been sleeping together, nor had they 
expected him to be. No doubt he'd heard it all before. The request for 
joint living arrangements *had* surprised him, though he'd hidden it 
well, but he'd granted it readily.

It hadn't always been easy - no relationship was - but they'd lasted. Six 
years, they'd been living together now. They'd weathered injuries - both 
minor and life-threatening - and discovery. The biggest kicker had been 
finding out that there were politicians who had wanted to use their 
relationship to prove how "politically correct" they were, but Bodie and 
Doyle had refused to be used as gay poster-boys by *anyone*. All they 
wanted was to be left in piece to do their jobs and live their lives.

But this phase of their lives was coming to an end. Chronic injuries and 
age were starting to catch up with them. They were both still on the 
sunny side of forty, and more fit than most men ten years younger, but 
they were starting to lose the edge needed in their line of work. Doyle 
wore glasses to read, and Bodie's endurance was slipping. Cowley already 
had them doing regular stints as trainers, and they spent more time 
organizing ops than participating in them. Soon they wouldn't be working 
the streets at all. Some thought that Cowley might groom one of them to 
be the next Controller, but Bodie knew it was not likely. Gay agents were 
one thing. A gay controller would be asking too much for Whitehall to 
accept.

Bodie didn't mind. He'd reached a point in his life where he looked 
forward to a bit of stability. When he looked in the mirror, the lines 
around his eyes were deeper, and there were strands of silver in the 
close-cropped dark hair. He was a very different person from the young 
man who'd gone to see, then fought in Africa.

And Doyle... Bodie curled one of the grey locks at Ray's temples around 
his finger. They were both past their prime as field agents, and they 
were lucky to be able to say that. They both had their share of scars, 
both physical and mental. It was time to rest a little.

Maybe someday they'd leave CI5. Go into private security or something. 
But, until then...

Doyle shifted in his sleep. An arm reached out and pulled Bodie in close. 
Bodie rested his cheek against Ray's chest, and inhaled deeply, savoring 
his lover's scent.

He wasn't worried about the future. They'd beaten the odds, time and time 
again, and he was confident that they'd continue to do so.

Until then, he slept.

END