Hot.
Summer in the city.
Doyle rubbed the back of his neck, grimacing when his hand came away soaked with his own sweat. Wiping his damp palm on his trousers, he leaned back in the car seat and eyed the street around with him a baleful glare. London was a haze of sweltering sunshine, droplets of humidity frying on the sidewalks. The air was heavy with it, not a single breeze stirred the molten atmosphere. And final confirmation of the utterly unseasonable heat wave was his partner's concessions in dress and manner.
Always dapper and cool, Bodie had actually given up on his normal elegance of dress, and was giving his partner competition in sloppy wear. His jeans were a bit too snug, the faded denim obviously dragged from the bottom of his wardrobe, while the stained white T-shirt had obviously seen better days. Now the jacket was a hold-over, the cool cream linen creaseless and fine as it draped over those broad shoulders. Doyle couldn't help a self-satisfied smile of appreciation...the jacket was a necessity given the hardware slung beneath Bodie's left arm, and it would disappear the moment they were out of the public eye. And the view of his muscular partner in the old, tight, short-sleeved shirt was a pleasure to be well-savoured. Nothing would beat it, in fact, short of a very large, ice-cold glass of lager. The American style was in for the moment - who wanted to drink beer with the temperature of boiling water?
Sweat pooled unpleasantly in the hollow of Doyle's throat, then began to trickle down his chest. He rubbed at the spot, but only succeeded in spreading the moisture further. His own light green shirt was stained with sweat, the material clinging limply to his flesh. He pulled at it, grimacing with distaste, wishing for about the thousandth time that afternoon that the CI5 pool motors had the luxury of air-conditioning. No such hope, though, and he could imagine the scowl on Cowley's face if he'd actually had the balls to ask for it.
'And 'ow do ye expect that to be paid for, 4.5?" Cowley would demand. Doyle could hear that voice now, rising quivering in his ears, yet absolutely firm and resolute. Doyle cringed in his seat; merely the imagined memory of being subjected to one of the Major's penetrating stares. Not that he didn't like working for the old man, it was just... he always seemed to be on the receiving end of a lecture. Now Bodie...
OK. That wasn't really fair. While Cowley had a definite soft-spot for Mr. Blue Eyes here, that didn't stop him from giving the irrepressible ex-Sergeant an earful. And Bodie would take it with military-trained acceptance. Acceptance, and then total disregard. For a man who had spent most of his life as a soldier, he had a remarkable dislike for taking orders.
The subject of that thought shifted in his seat, taking his own turn at swiping at the sweat beading on his brow. Doyle's eyes (totally of their own accord, of course!) followed that hand as it rubbed over fair skin, then weeded through short dark hair. Ebony strands were curling against Bodie's brow, caressing the edge of his ears, and Doyle's own hand trembled in his lap with the desire to reach out and play with those wayward tendrils. Bodie's hair felt like silk, he knew well, and if they had been in private...
But they weren't. No. They were sitting stakeout in the middle of bloody London, slowly roasting in a sauna disguised as a motor, while the criminals sat in air-conditioned splendour in the house across the busy avenue. Definitely unfair. A true believer in justice, peace, and the British way, Doyle still drew the line at this kind of willful mistreatment of two of the country's best guardians. Surely he and his partner deserved better!
Doyle's eyes slid shut as he considered what, in full justice, he and Bodie ought to be doing. The scorched streets of London gave way to the cool, green grasses of Scotland, a soft breeze washing over the deep blue of a lake. Feet stretched out on a soft blanket, he could lean his head back against a solid abdomen and snuggle into the warmth of his Bodie's presence. Several bottles of good ale, and a hamper of homemade food would rest to his side, easily in reach. And they'd be fully alone in the shore of the loch, with only the birds and the bees for company. And speaking of the birds and the bees....a certain, definite sort of activity could keep them occupied...
"Hoy! Doyle! What're you thinking about, mate?"
Bodie's demand was a rough disturbance, forcing Doyle sharply out of his pleasant day dream. Startled, he bolted upward, hand instinctively reaching for the heavy gun strapped beneath his armpit. His knee hit the dashboard, his eyes jerked open, and he shouted a combination of pain and surprise.
"What...Bodie! OOWWW!"
Additional moisture squeezed out of the corners of his eyes as he rubbed at his screaming knee.
"Ray?" Bodie's voice was deeper now, concern a slow, throaty undercurrent beneath a trickling brook of amusement. Doyle shot him a fierce look of annoyance, still stroking the bruised spot on his kneecap, even though the pain was beginning to recede.
"What were you shouting for?" he demanded.
Bodie shrugged. "Just wondering what you were dreaming about." His expression turned wistful. "It looked awfully nice."
Abruptly, Doyle's annoyance fled as quickly as it had aroused. A smiled dawned on his face, curling up the corners of his mouth.
"Nice is not the half of it mate," he replied with satisfaction.
Bodie's blue eyes danced, his curiosity engaged. "Ahh, and are you gonna tell me about it, mate?
Doyle's grin turned faintly mischievous, though he pretended to consider the question quite seriously.
"Hmm, I dunno. Some things are just private, you know."
Bodie's generous mouth pursed into the beginnings of a pout. They were playing now, both men well aware of it, both enjoying the process. Anything that lightened this tedious, sweat-stained stakeout was more than welcome.
"Ahh, now Raymate, you know you can tell Uncle Bodie anything."
"Uncle?" Doyle shook his head, thoroughly eyeing his partner up and down. "You're no uncle of mine! In fact, you're just a kid, you are!"
"A kid?" Bodie snorted, even as his eyes danced. "Just cause you have a couple of years on me..."
Doyle lifted his head proudly. "Three years, in fact, all filled with experience."
"Ah, but I'm an early starter," Bodie replied, lifting a crooked eyebrow.
"Early?" Doyle scoffed. "And who's the one who 'as to drag your lazy arse out of bed in the morning? Me, tha's who!"
"'Ey? I seem to recall waking you up just the other morning. Slug-a-bed!"
"I'd only gotten to sleep two hours before that! It wasn't my fault Cowley kept me up half the bleedin' night reporting..."
"Excuses, excuses..." Bodie teased, deftly darting away as Doyle swiped at him. They both chuckled, for the memory of that morning carried far more than simply lack of sleep. Bodie had chosen to wake his exhausted partner in a manner that neither of them would long forget, and which both ardently hoped to repeat on many an occasion.
Smiling at each other through the heavy, stifling air, they relaxed into a silence as comfortable as the meaningless conversation they'd just had. Doyle treasured these moments between them. They could sit in total silence and yet be fully connected to each other. Sometimes he felt they communicated more this way than with words. In the deepest silences, in the stillness that fell between them, the depth of their communion echoed louder, carried on the beat of their hearts and the soft whisper of their breaths. He could sit like this with Bodie for ever...
Well, not forever. There were other things he definitely wanted to do... and that reminded him of his daydream. A gentle nudge of his elbow against Bodie's and he instantly had his partner's absolute attention. The details of his imaginings were fluid on his tongue, flowing easily between them. And in the quiet, heat-soaked companionship of the small motor, the tastes and smells of a long distant countryside took shape. Closing his eyes Doyle could almost feel the cool breeze lingering on his face.
The breeze - and the soft, tender touch of Bodie's fingertips.
Life wasn't so bad after all.
Even though it was bloody, damn hot!
The End