Discovered in the Fairylights fic: Day 20
Wherein Bodie and Doyle go to Larton again . . .
"Ho bloody ho," said Bodie, lugging the heavy box of food through the front door. Doyle had waltzed through in front of him carrying just an apology for a Christmas tree-all that had been left at the all-night garage near the motorway.
"Father Christmas come early?"
"Very nasty, premature ejaculation…"
"Not that I'd know."
Bodie rolled his eyes and dumped the box onto the large pine table. He was glad to see that Mrs Reilly, the little old dear who 'did' for Susan's Aunty Cecily, had made sure the Aga was going. Otherwise they'd have been freezing their bits off.
*~*~*~
"Another helping?"
Bodie raised his eyebrows but decided not to look a gift Doyle in the mouth and accepted the final spoonful of apple crumble. Mrs Reilly really was a gem. She'd left them a casserole and a loaf of her soda bread as well. They'd made substantial inroads into the former and all that remained of the latter now was a pile of crumbs.
"I could get used to this," said Doyle, warming his feet against the Aga.
"Bollocks! You'd be bored inside a month."
"Yeah?" Doyle raised an eyebrow. "At the moment I'd happily give it a try."
*~*~*~
The little shit was asleep as soon as his head had touched the pillow. Bodie lay awake, still disconcerted by the velvet darkness and silence. Doyle hadn't been serous about jacking in CI5, had he? Bodie wouldn't have blamed him if he had-his fight back to fitness after being shot had been an arduous one.
What the hell would he-they-do, though? They weren't qualified to do anything else. Bodie snorted under his breath. Maybe retiring to a rural retreat wasn't so stupid.
The voice next to him made him jump. "Go to bloody sleep! I can hear your brain clunking."
*~*~*~
Doyle was staring in bewilderment at the invitation-written in florid copperplate on fake vellum.
"Why have we been invited to some Christmas 'do' at this hall place?"
"No idea. Maybe it's a local tradition, dispensing bonhomie to the peasants."
"You speak for yourself, sunshine. Me, I'm an intellectual!"
Bodie rolled his eyes. "Or would be if you could spell it."
"Cheeky pig. So are we going?"
"Yeah, why not. We'll get free nosh, if nothing else."
"You and your stomach!"
"Nothing wrong with my lower bits."
Doyle grinned wolfishly and doled out a lethal poke with a sharp forefinger.
*~*~*~
"So have you and William been invited to the do at the hall?" Jess caused a minor stir as she bent behind the bar to get clean glasses for their pints.
"What do?" Doyle jabbed Bodie in the ribs to stop him staring.
"They always have one. Not that the likes of us get an invite."
Bodie devoured a bag of pork scratchings and commented that they'd got a busy schedule over the festive season.
"I suppose you’re busy with your book, Mr Doyle?"
"Um, yes…" In fact, War and Peace was turning out to be a thumping good read.
*~*~*~
Bodie stretched his legs out and belched spectacularly. Doyle aimed a Satsuma at his head. Bodie caught it deftly and scoffed it in two mouthfuls.
"Knew I should marry you. That was a cracking spread."
"The washing up's there when you're ready." Doyle ate his Satsuma segment by segment.
"You’re too kind."
"I know."
"Glad we stayed here instead of hob-nobbing with the toffs." Bodie ruffled Doyle's hair and shifted position so that his feet were resting in his partner's lap.
Doyle sighed long-sufferingly. "Comfy enough?"
"Yes thanks. C'mere and give me a kiss under the mistletoe."
Doyle acquiesced.
*~*~*~
"That lot are bonkers!" Bodie glared after the hunters, who seemed intent on breaking their necks before new year.
"Too much rural in-breeding." Doyle seemed supremely unruffled, passing Bodie squares of chocolate from his jacket pocket.
A hearty, aristocratic woman had laid down the law to Bodie in no uncertain terms. His crimes seemed to be many and varied, with drink and horses featuring prominently. Only the arrival of a scruffy fellow, who'd tipped them the wink and led the dragon away, had dispersed an interested crowd.
"Home, James…"
"Who the hell's James?" complained Bodie, following with a bad grace.
*~*~*~
The chimes of Big Ben rang out from the ancient TV set in the corner of the living room. Doyle slurped his glass of champagne and oomphed as Bodie grabbed him and snogged him soundly.
Bodie set him back upright on the sofa. "Back to London tomorrow."
"Don't remind me."
"'bout time we stopped all the pretence… Tell Cowley we want to share a flat. The old bugger must know."
"You reckon?" Doyle was very still.
"Yep. I know so. What do you say, Goldilocks?"
Doyle gave him a blinding smile. "I say, about bloody time!"
And they snogged again.
Title: Go West
Author: Luka
Slash/Gen: Slash
Archive at ProsLib/Circuit: Yes
Format: Linked drabbles
Pairing: Bodie/Doyle
Warnings: None
Summary: Bodie and Doyle spend a rather bemusing festive week in the country
Disclaimer: I do not own Bodie and Doyle. I promise to put them back undamaged after I've finishing playing with them . . .
A/N: This is the Christmassy follow-up to Village People. And it's a tribute to Rhiannon for all the fun I've had reading her wonderful Larton stories. I hope she won't mind me playing in her sandpit again…
"Ho bloody ho," said Bodie, lugging the heavy box of food through the front door. Doyle had waltzed through in front of him carrying just an apology for a Christmas tree-all that had been left at the all-night garage near the motorway.
"Father Christmas come early?"
"Very nasty, premature ejaculation…"
"Not that I'd know."
Bodie rolled his eyes and dumped the box onto the large pine table. He was glad to see that Mrs Reilly, the little old dear who 'did' for Susan's Aunty Cecily, had made sure the Aga was going. Otherwise they'd have been freezing their bits off.
*~*~*~
"Another helping?"
Bodie raised his eyebrows but decided not to look a gift Doyle in the mouth and accepted the final spoonful of apple crumble. Mrs Reilly really was a gem. She'd left them a casserole and a loaf of her soda bread as well. They'd made substantial inroads into the former and all that remained of the latter now was a pile of crumbs.
"I could get used to this," said Doyle, warming his feet against the Aga.
"Bollocks! You'd be bored inside a month."
"Yeah?" Doyle raised an eyebrow. "At the moment I'd happily give it a try."
*~*~*~
The little shit was asleep as soon as his head had touched the pillow. Bodie lay awake, still disconcerted by the velvet darkness and silence. Doyle hadn't been serous about jacking in CI5, had he? Bodie wouldn't have blamed him if he had-his fight back to fitness after being shot had been an arduous one.
What the hell would he-they-do, though? They weren't qualified to do anything else. Bodie snorted under his breath. Maybe retiring to a rural retreat wasn't so stupid.
The voice next to him made him jump. "Go to bloody sleep! I can hear your brain clunking."
*~*~*~
Doyle was staring in bewilderment at the invitation-written in florid copperplate on fake vellum.
"Why have we been invited to some Christmas 'do' at this hall place?"
"No idea. Maybe it's a local tradition, dispensing bonhomie to the peasants."
"You speak for yourself, sunshine. Me, I'm an intellectual!"
Bodie rolled his eyes. "Or would be if you could spell it."
"Cheeky pig. So are we going?"
"Yeah, why not. We'll get free nosh, if nothing else."
"You and your stomach!"
"Nothing wrong with my lower bits."
Doyle grinned wolfishly and doled out a lethal poke with a sharp forefinger.
*~*~*~
"So have you and William been invited to the do at the hall?" Jess caused a minor stir as she bent behind the bar to get clean glasses for their pints.
"What do?" Doyle jabbed Bodie in the ribs to stop him staring.
"They always have one. Not that the likes of us get an invite."
Bodie devoured a bag of pork scratchings and commented that they'd got a busy schedule over the festive season.
"I suppose you’re busy with your book, Mr Doyle?"
"Um, yes…" In fact, War and Peace was turning out to be a thumping good read.
*~*~*~
Bodie stretched his legs out and belched spectacularly. Doyle aimed a Satsuma at his head. Bodie caught it deftly and scoffed it in two mouthfuls.
"Knew I should marry you. That was a cracking spread."
"The washing up's there when you're ready." Doyle ate his Satsuma segment by segment.
"You’re too kind."
"I know."
"Glad we stayed here instead of hob-nobbing with the toffs." Bodie ruffled Doyle's hair and shifted position so that his feet were resting in his partner's lap.
Doyle sighed long-sufferingly. "Comfy enough?"
"Yes thanks. C'mere and give me a kiss under the mistletoe."
Doyle acquiesced.
*~*~*~
"That lot are bonkers!" Bodie glared after the hunters, who seemed intent on breaking their necks before new year.
"Too much rural in-breeding." Doyle seemed supremely unruffled, passing Bodie squares of chocolate from his jacket pocket.
A hearty, aristocratic woman had laid down the law to Bodie in no uncertain terms. His crimes seemed to be many and varied, with drink and horses featuring prominently. Only the arrival of a scruffy fellow, who'd tipped them the wink and led the dragon away, had dispersed an interested crowd.
"Home, James…"
"Who the hell's James?" complained Bodie, following with a bad grace.
*~*~*~
The chimes of Big Ben rang out from the ancient TV set in the corner of the living room. Doyle slurped his glass of champagne and oomphed as Bodie grabbed him and snogged him soundly.
Bodie set him back upright on the sofa. "Back to London tomorrow."
"Don't remind me."
"'bout time we stopped all the pretence… Tell Cowley we want to share a flat. The old bugger must know."
"You reckon?" Doyle was very still.
"Yep. I know so. What do you say, Goldilocks?"
Doyle gave him a blinding smile. "I say, about bloody time!"
And they snogged again.
Title: Go West
Author: Luka
Slash/Gen: Slash
Archive at ProsLib/Circuit: Yes
Format: Linked drabbles
Pairing: Bodie/Doyle
Warnings: None
Summary: Bodie and Doyle spend a rather bemusing festive week in the country
Disclaimer: I do not own Bodie and Doyle. I promise to put them back undamaged after I've finishing playing with them . . .
A/N: This is the Christmassy follow-up to Village People. And it's a tribute to Rhiannon for all the fun I've had reading her wonderful Larton stories. I hope she won't mind me playing in her sandpit again…