Discovered in a Christmas pud: 27th December: Stalemate
‘What do you mean, no waffles?’ Bodie’s eyes were even bluer than usual with indignation.
‘Porridge?’ suggested Doyle helpfully.
‘Porridge? I don’t bleedin’ think so.’
‘Okay, omelette. And then one of those chocolate croissants you like. Only one, mind - think of your ticker.’
‘But I wanted waffles. Waffles, Ray, with all that cream on top and the berries and that chocolate sauce.’
‘Bodie, I’m not going to be that long. Grab a coffee and a croissant and sit down and wait for me.’
‘And that’s another thing. Just look at that.’ He rattled off the list at speed, ‘Espresso, macchiato, latte, cappuccino, americano, flat white - and then you go into mocha, hot chocolate and chai latte. And what the hell is that - pumpkin spiced latte? Why would you want vegetables in your coffee? If it is coffee. I dunno - remember when it was just coffee, and your only choice was whether you wanted it black or white?’
After some fussing, Doyle got his partner installed at a table with his macchiato and croissant.
‘All right now?’
‘This coffee tastes burnt.’
‘Oh, for fuck’s sake give over. That’s just a different roast. Honestly, nothing’s right for you this morning, is it?’
‘Well. No waffles. An’ I was thinking of them all through our run this morning.’
Doyle rolled his eyes and turned to leave.
‘You could always order my smoothie for when I get back,’ he said over his shoulder. ‘Healthy Detox Supreme, please.’
‘On your bike, sunshine.’ Bodie made himself comfortable at the table, flexing his spine and stretching out till he was comfortable. He watched with satisfaction as Doyle’s eyes narrowed.
‘Okay - I won’t be long. Mediterranean focaccia and a cranberry sourdough - oh, and that sausage you like.’ Bodie wiggled his eyebrows suggestively at him and he grinned reluctantly. ‘Pillock.’
Doyle turned and looked back as he reached the stairs to see Bodie, long legs spread out under the table, displaying a nicely-packed crotch. Bodie winked at him and Doyle turned back for the stairs cursing his inconvenient and uncomfortable erection.
bdbdbdbd
Bodie was contemplating another coffee and just possibly a slice of carrot cake. After all, Doyle had said he wouldn’t be long. How much time did it take to buy fancy bread and cheese anyway? Mind, his partner was like a kid in a sweetshop when it came to the displays downstairs, and no matter what he’d said about ‘just’ bread and cheese, Bodie knew that the shopping bags would be packed full of food that Ray couldn’t resist. And, to be fair, neither would Bodie, despite his often-repeated complaints about exotic ingredients and odd combinations.
He glanced around the big room. Plenty of yummy mummies with pushchairs and tots in tow, most of whom, from the insistent commands, seemed to be called Isabella or Jacob: he winced and looked away as one little angel mashed some sticky concoction into the hair of a sibling.
So - carrot cake? It might make up for the lack of waffles. The annoying thing, he mused, was that the waffles were still advertised on the chalk board behind the counter. He shook his head. Definitely another coffee, then, and he could get Ray’s disgusting green drink at the same time.
He rose from his seat and paused, all senses suddenly on alert, as screams sounded from the stairs. A wave of raised voices and the sound of trampling feet sent him racing for the exit, plunging down the steps towards the supermarket where people were stampeding out of the main door in a desperate urge to escape. Fighting against the tide was hard, but Bodie shoved his way brutally towards the source of the problem. He reached the entrance and paused, peering round the door.
There were a few shoppers and assistants trapped towards the back of the store, but there, front and centre, was Ray. Ray, on his knees at the feet of a woman who had a knife to his neck. She looked up, attracted by the movement, and hissed, ‘You!’ The knife dug further into Doyle’s neck, and a thin trickle of blood was spreading over the collar of his shirt.
(Temporary) title: "Stalemate"
Author: Murphybabe
Pairing: Bodie/Doyle
Slash or Gen: Slash
Rating: teen
Warnings: none
Disclaimer: Never mine, I just delude myself. No profits were harmed by the writing of this fic.
Archive at ProsLib: Yes, please (after part 2)
Notes: I was supposed to be writing a barista fic for MoonlightMead, who couldn’t be with us at Wholefoods this year. Sorry it didn’t quite turn out that way! And sadly, there were indeed no waffles :(
‘Porridge?’ suggested Doyle helpfully.
‘Porridge? I don’t bleedin’ think so.’
‘Okay, omelette. And then one of those chocolate croissants you like. Only one, mind - think of your ticker.’
‘But I wanted waffles. Waffles, Ray, with all that cream on top and the berries and that chocolate sauce.’
‘Bodie, I’m not going to be that long. Grab a coffee and a croissant and sit down and wait for me.’
‘And that’s another thing. Just look at that.’ He rattled off the list at speed, ‘Espresso, macchiato, latte, cappuccino, americano, flat white - and then you go into mocha, hot chocolate and chai latte. And what the hell is that - pumpkin spiced latte? Why would you want vegetables in your coffee? If it is coffee. I dunno - remember when it was just coffee, and your only choice was whether you wanted it black or white?’
After some fussing, Doyle got his partner installed at a table with his macchiato and croissant.
‘All right now?’
‘This coffee tastes burnt.’
‘Oh, for fuck’s sake give over. That’s just a different roast. Honestly, nothing’s right for you this morning, is it?’
‘Well. No waffles. An’ I was thinking of them all through our run this morning.’
Doyle rolled his eyes and turned to leave.
‘You could always order my smoothie for when I get back,’ he said over his shoulder. ‘Healthy Detox Supreme, please.’
‘On your bike, sunshine.’ Bodie made himself comfortable at the table, flexing his spine and stretching out till he was comfortable. He watched with satisfaction as Doyle’s eyes narrowed.
‘Okay - I won’t be long. Mediterranean focaccia and a cranberry sourdough - oh, and that sausage you like.’ Bodie wiggled his eyebrows suggestively at him and he grinned reluctantly. ‘Pillock.’
Doyle turned and looked back as he reached the stairs to see Bodie, long legs spread out under the table, displaying a nicely-packed crotch. Bodie winked at him and Doyle turned back for the stairs cursing his inconvenient and uncomfortable erection.
bdbdbdbd
Bodie was contemplating another coffee and just possibly a slice of carrot cake. After all, Doyle had said he wouldn’t be long. How much time did it take to buy fancy bread and cheese anyway? Mind, his partner was like a kid in a sweetshop when it came to the displays downstairs, and no matter what he’d said about ‘just’ bread and cheese, Bodie knew that the shopping bags would be packed full of food that Ray couldn’t resist. And, to be fair, neither would Bodie, despite his often-repeated complaints about exotic ingredients and odd combinations.
He glanced around the big room. Plenty of yummy mummies with pushchairs and tots in tow, most of whom, from the insistent commands, seemed to be called Isabella or Jacob: he winced and looked away as one little angel mashed some sticky concoction into the hair of a sibling.
So - carrot cake? It might make up for the lack of waffles. The annoying thing, he mused, was that the waffles were still advertised on the chalk board behind the counter. He shook his head. Definitely another coffee, then, and he could get Ray’s disgusting green drink at the same time.
He rose from his seat and paused, all senses suddenly on alert, as screams sounded from the stairs. A wave of raised voices and the sound of trampling feet sent him racing for the exit, plunging down the steps towards the supermarket where people were stampeding out of the main door in a desperate urge to escape. Fighting against the tide was hard, but Bodie shoved his way brutally towards the source of the problem. He reached the entrance and paused, peering round the door.
There were a few shoppers and assistants trapped towards the back of the store, but there, front and centre, was Ray. Ray, on his knees at the feet of a woman who had a knife to his neck. She looked up, attracted by the movement, and hissed, ‘You!’ The knife dug further into Doyle’s neck, and a thin trickle of blood was spreading over the collar of his shirt.
(Temporary) title: "Stalemate"
Author: Murphybabe
Pairing: Bodie/Doyle
Slash or Gen: Slash
Rating: teen
Warnings: none
Disclaimer: Never mine, I just delude myself. No profits were harmed by the writing of this fic.
Archive at ProsLib: Yes, please (after part 2)
Notes: I was supposed to be writing a barista fic for MoonlightMead, who couldn’t be with us at Wholefoods this year. Sorry it didn’t quite turn out that way! And sadly, there were indeed no waffles :(