Bodie pushed the shopping trolley across the supermarket car park, visibly biting back a curse as it refused to go in the direction he wanted.
"Having a bit of bother?" Doyle asked, eyes wide and feigning innocence.
Bodie glared. "You could say that. Christ, a tank would be easier to manoeuvre than this contraption."
A voice piped up. "Have you ever driven a tank? What's it like?"
Doyle winked at the small boy. "Yeah, Bodie, tell Neil if you've ever driven a tank," he said, slyly.
"No, I haven't," Bodie conceded, coming to a stop beside the gold Capri. "But if I had, it would've been a damn sight easier to steer than this trolley."
Doyle tutted. "Language. There are children about."
"I'm not children," the boy protested. "I'm eight!"
"Are you sure?" Doyle asked, frowning. "You seem much younger than that. I'm certain it was only last year you were born."
"As riveting as the Doyle family history is, there are strawberry mivvies defrosting at the bottom of this trolley," Bodie cut in. He gestured towards the car. "Just get the boot open, Doyle."
"Can I open it, Uncle Ray?" Neil asked, holding his hand out for the key. Doyle shot an amused look at Bodie who shrugged.
"Yeah, 'course," Doyle said, handing the key over. "Don't forget the special twist."
"Special twist?"
"Yeah, you put the key in the lock…"
The boy did as he was told.
"And you twist it--"
"Like this?" Neil asked, and the boot opened.
"Yeah." Doyle grinned at Neil's wide eyes. "Just like that."
"It's all in the wrist," Bodie said and leaned in, confidentially, "Your uncle Ray's got a great wrist action."
"You'd know," Doyle murmured and Bodie smirked.
"Uncle Ray, did we get baked beans?" Neil asked, looking through the carrier bags.
"Yeah, we got baked beans."
"Can we have beans on toast for tea?"
"I dunno. Bodie, can we have beans on toast for tea? I can't cook, 'cos of…" He pointed to his arm in a sling, a remnant of the last op they'd been on together. The bruises on his face had faded and his skin now had a normal, healthy pallor. He wasn't a vain man, but even he had flinched when he caught sight of himself in a mirror during those first few days afterwards. Luckily Bodie was available to look after him. How he'd squared it with Cowley was anyone's guess, but Ray wasn't about to question his boss's decision.
Bodie rolled his eyes. "I'll need help. Toast doesn't butter itself."
"I can help," Neil said. "I make my own toast at home."
"Then beans on toast it is. A veritable feast."
"And an ice-cream for afters?" Neil pushed.
"Is there any other kind of dessert?" Bodie asked. "'Though we'll need to get moving or we may be drinking them instead of eating."
"It's the middle of winter," Doyle pointed out.
"And I'm freezing," Bodie said, grabbing two bags of shopping from the trolley. He looked pointedly at Doyle.
"I'd give you a hand, mate," Doyle said, "only I'm still recuperating."
"Yeah? I'll remember that later when you're after a bit of-"
"Little ears," Doyle warned, looking towards Neil, who was struggling with a bagful of tins.
Bodie effortlessly plucked the bag from Neil's hand and deposited it in the boot. "Let's get home," he said. "I have a meal to prepare and nursemaid duties to fulfil."
"And can we play Cluedo after tea 'til Mum picks me up?" Neil asked.
"We can, but you should know that the butler did it."
"There isn't a butler in Cluedo."
"Ah, that's sneaky, that is," Bodie said. He put the last bag in and slammed down the car boot.
While Neil took the trolley back Doyle laid his good hand on Bodie's arm. "Thanks," he said, sincerely.
Bodie patted his hand, and if his fingers lingered a little too long, no-one was taking any notice of them here. "Let's get home," he repeated, quietly this time, and the smile he flashed was full of warmth and promise.
A shopper nearby swore as her trolley skidded off the kerb. Neil ran past her without batting an eyelid and threw himself into the Capri.
"Did we get Coke?" he enquired from the back seat.
"We got Coke," Bodie confirmed. He took the keys from Doyle. "Let's get home."
~End~
Trailer info
Title: Ice and Easy
Author: Hambel
Slash or Gen: Slash
Archive at ProsLib/Circuit: Yes.
Disclaimer: Characters are not mine. Idea for the story is.
Happy New Year!