Fiction: The Loneliness of Birthdays (1/3)
This story is in three parts and is for Martin Shaw's birthday.
Title: Loneliness of Birthdays (1/3)
Author: lbc
Pairing: RD/WAPB
Rating: slash
Disclaimer: I sure wish I owned the lads
Note: This is in honour of MS 67th birthday. Never did it look so good on someone. Total word count: 18,000+ words
Ray Doyle walked out of George Cowley’s office feeling a mixture of despair and something he couldn’t quite understand. In three days, he would leave the A Squad forever when he reached his 40th birthday.
Cowley hadn’t seemed too surprised. After all, Doyle had been on the streets for more than fifteen years, the majority of those with CI5 and some with the Met. Since his shooting by Mayli Kuolo, it had just seemed like a matter of time until he left the streets to find some other profession, but Bodie had kept him on the job. Not that Bodie had ever asked Ray to stay on, although he had certainly been the driving force behind encouraging Doyle to return to CI5 after surviving two bullets and months of therapy.
Each year or rather each birthday had seemed to become more of a burden after the shooting, however, and each birthday Ray Doyle had “celebrated” alone. Certainly he could have had any bird he wanted for his natal day, but Doyle always remained alone as if saying to himself that he had made it by himself for one more year. Although Doyle never tried to lie to Bodie, he had made up the name of a “luscious date” on each occasion whenever Bodie asked him about his plans.
It was the same way every year. Bodie left him alone, assuming that his partner was making merry with one of his vast supply of women, and Doyle had done the same when his partner celebrated a few months later. It was true that the two men had sometimes gone to their local pub on their “day” to have a drink or two, but it had never been more than that.
In fact, birthdays had never been more than that for either Bodie or Doyle. As Doyle looked back on it, he had never been given a gift by any family member nor had Bodie given him something. Bodie called birthdays too sentimental and so the partners had not observed the day as anything special.
Ray Doyle could only remember one “family” birthday. He couldn’t call it special. He called it traumatic. It was his fifteenth, and he had just got in trouble for cutting up another boy pretty badly. He hadn’t got caught, but he hadn’t reckoned on the wrath of his father who had somehow heard about the incident.
The Doyles lived in a less than glamorous section of Derby where violence was not unusual, while rumours and mayhem were constant. His father had trouble keeping a job due to drinking so his mother had held the family together. She had also defended her son once too often and though tough in many ways, was vulnerable to her husband’s wrath.
This day, John Doyle returned home after visiting a pub for too long and staying on the job for too little and found his son dishevelled from his recent encounter with Johnny Morgan, who had cast aspersions on Doyle’s curls and slender body once too often. The fight had lasted very little time, but the aftermath would mark his features for a lifetime.
When John Doyle saw his son’s rumpled appearance, he demanded to know the cause. The fact that he himself was tousled due to too much lager and not enough sleep mattered little because when John Doyle became enraged, he was a force to be reckoned with.
Mary Doyle came to the defence of her son as the green-eyed fifteen year old bristled at his father’s demands, resulting in John Doyle throwing a punch (not for the first time) at his wife. Raymond Doyle had never really intervened before in his mother and father’s verbal fights, but this time was different. Ray stepped between them and was promptly knocked unconscious with a stunning blow to his right cheek which promptly broke the bone and threatened the eye.
Of course, Ray knew nothing of this for a week since he remained unconscious the entire time, but when he awoke John Doyle was in gaol and Mary Doyle was blaming everybody for the break-up of her family.
A few months later Ray Doyle left home for good. That had been his fifteenth birthday and the memories of the events of that day soured him forever on celebrating his birth. That remained true, however, until he met William Bodie. Not that Bodie and he celebrated birthdays. In fact, Bodie seemed to hate celebrating his own naissance even more than Doyle did, but now there was someone who Doyle could be with - - not usually on birthdays, but the rest of the year - - Bodie was there.
Now, at Doyle’s fortieth birthday, Bodie wouldn’t be there. Over the last year or so of their ten year partnership, Cowley had seemed to separate the men more and more. It was true that Bodie was almost three years younger than Doyle, and it crossed Doyle’s mind more and more that Cowley was trying to protect his blue-eyed, dark haired favourite from the growing decrepitude of the once lethal Ray Doyle. At least, that’s the way that Doyle now saw it.
Ray Doyle knew one thing and perhaps only one thing. Bodie was his one true friend, and he would do nothing to endanger Bodie’s life. Partners were there to protect the other partner’s back, and if Ray Doyle couldn’t do that (due to age or bullets) then he was no longer going to be Bodie’s partner.
This was the perfect time to leave Bodie and the A Squad. Bodie had drawn a short-term undercover assignment which would keep him in the Birmingham area for a few weeks. In just four days Ray Doyle was walking out the door of CI5 to head to Jack Craine’s training facility to become an instructor. In three days he would be 40 and the next day, he would be an ex-agent of CI5.
He had not told Bodie of his decision because the crud had volunteered, once again, to fight the good fight against some mercs seeming to set up shop in the north. Doyle would be up and away before Bodie returned. It wasn’t as if Bodie really needed Doyle; the big, blue-eyed handsome man could work with anybody, if he put his mind to it. Doyle had been blessed with working with him for ten years, now it was time to give somebody else a chance, before Doyle did something to get them both, or even worse, Bodie killed.
These past few weeks had been a time of loneliness for Doyle. It was almost an omen of things to come. In the past when Bodie had gone undercover, Doyle had often been his liaison to CI5. Doyle had known what Bodie was doing or at least had been kept informed. This time he knew nothing, Cowley made sure of that; it was probably best that way. Bodie would be upset for a few days when he returned and then he would get on with the job. Bodie’s loyalty and admiration for George Cowley had kept the crazy ex-merc at his job with CI5 for far longer than any other job he had ever held. That wouldn’t change. Loneliness was terrible, but it would keep Bodie alive . . . and with another partner.
The next two days swept by rapidly. Doyle’s flat was clean and ready to be taken over by an active A squad member as soon as Doyle vacated it. Two days before his birthday Jax and his lovely wife had treated him to a birthday meal. This had long been a tradition between the two ex-coppers, and while it had been enjoyable; it wasn’t Bodie.
Yesterday, Murph had taken him to his local for a round of drinks. Murphy didn’t know that Doyle was leaving the A Squad, but Doyle promised himself that he would be sure to buy Murph a round on his birthday in five months if he could get away from Jack Craine’s clutches.
The actual day of Doyle’s birth was no different than others except for his actions at CI5. He had spoken to Cowley briefly, handing in his credentials and signing several documents. He went down to the armoury to turn in his gun and clear out the clothes and extra things he kept at headquarters. He had walked away from the building that had been his life for ten years, never looking back.
After turning in his car, he caught a taxi, deciding to splurge before taking up his domicile at Jack Craine’s facility. His thoughts were confused and despairing. He hadn’t thought it would be so easy to walk away from the last ten years, but without Bodie around, he realized that it hadn’t been the glass and mortar of CI5 that had been his life; it had been Bodie, and now even that lifeline was gone.
Bodie had known for months that Doyle’s fortieth birthday was coming up. Bodie had a hatred for celebrating Christmas and any other sentimental event, but Doyle had expected that Bodie would, at least, mention the fact that Doyle was soon to be 40 and inquire about his plans for the future. It wasn’t unheard of for an A Squad agent to stay on the squad beyond that age, and since Doyle was one of the best, many agents expected to see Doyle’s curls around the place for years to come, but Bodie had said . . . nothing.
In fact, he seemed to ignore the whole thing, and as Doyle’s birthday neared, Bodie grew more and more distant. Maybe he was breathing a sigh of relief that he would soon be unburdened from a partnership where one of the partners could no longer carry his own weight. Whatever it was, Bodie had volunteered for the Birmingham undercover assignment just a week or so before Doyle’s birthday. What message the handsome ex-merc was trying to convey was shrouded in Doyle’s despair. He needed Bodie, but it was painfully apparent that Bodie didn’t need him any longer.
Looking around his flat, Doyle called headquarters to indicate that he was leaving the keys to the flat by the phone. With those few words, he closed the door on ten years as an active agent with CI5, got out his motorcycle and headed north.
BDBDBDBDBDBDBDBDBDBDB
Two weeks later
Driving on the A41, Bodie had plenty of time to think as he left Birmingham and headed toward London.
He was exhausted, and he ached in every part of his body - - even his crow’s-feet ached! Bodie was not a vain man. He knew that he was good looking; he had certainly been told so by the many birds he had slept with over the years, but it had meant little or nothing to him.
When Doyle, however, had pointed out the tiny wrinkles that appeared around his eyes - - that was a big deal! He was growing old. Of course, he was growing old; he had had a hard life, but he accepted that. What had bothered him about that statement was the future of his partnership with Ray Doyle.
To Bodie, Ray Doyle looked exactly the same as he did ten years before when their partnership began, but now he found himself noticing the bits of grey in Doyle’s hair around the ears. As usual with Doyle, it made him look even more beautiful, but it did make Bodie fearful about the two men and their future together.
Doyle was still the same lithe, lethal, snarky sod that he had always been. He was the best partner a man could ever want, but he was now also 40 years of age, and Bodie began to wonder what Doyle’s plans were. A few years before they had talked about coming off the street, but nothing had been said for quite awhile.
Now Bodie was carrying in his pocket a birthday gift for his long time partner. The pressie was not to commemorate his golli’s birthday so much as it was to commemorate the partnership, and the man who had made it the most fulfilling relationship that Bodie had ever known. In fact, in the weeks away from Doyle, Bodie had come to realize how much he had missed the hot-tempered, sharp-tongued crud, and how his feelings had gone so far beyond the friendship and fraternal love that he felt for the beautiful imp.
Bodie had to admit that he had made a mistake in letting Cowley force him into this recent undercover op. His cover had been blown by a merc who had known about his CI5 connections, but, fortunately, the local and CI5 back-up and had got there in time so that he only received a rather bad beating before the villains were rounded up and taken into custody.
Unfortunately for Bodie, the beating further emphasized the years that his 37 year old body had endured this type of thing. Age had always meant little to him, but in a few months, he would be 38. It was time for him to come off the street, but he would not do so until Doyle made the decision to leave the streets as well. He would never leave Doyle with some partner he could not rely on.
That very commitment brought up new worries, however, because he should have spoken to Doyle before he left for Birmingham. Instead, he had been a coward. Instead of facing his feelings for his partner, he had allowed himself to grow more and more distant. Each time he saw the broken-cheeked angel face, he loved him more, but how could he tell his very macho, heterosexual golli that his partner of ten years had fallen all over himself for his curls, his face, as well as his whole body. Doyle would have punched his lights out.
He knew when he agreed to the undercover op that he would be absent for Doyle’s fortieth birthday. The partners had never made much to-do over birthdays or Christmas - - maybe just a drink in the pub. After all, Doyle always had a bird to hand for these celebrations so Bodie never wanted to interfere, but a man’s fortieth was different and Bodie should have been there for his best friend’s big day.
As Bodie neared the lights of London, he decided he would drop by Doyle’s and give him his pressie then head onto headquarters and write up his report. Cowley had talked to him before he left Birmingham and let him know that CI5 would immediately begin work on tying up the loose ends of the operation. Bodie’s debriefing would begin almost immediately so it was imperative that Bodie should show up at headquarters that evening and deliver his information, but after almost a month of being gone and not seeing his partner, Bodie now knew what was more important to him - - he had to see Doyle and give him his gift.
Let Cowley hang. At one time Bodie would have rushed to do the bidding of George Cowley. The man had done a lot for the ex-merc and ex-soldier, but over the years Bodie’s loyalty and devotion had transferred (albeit gradually and subtly) to his partner. Bodie now knew who kept him at CI5 and if tomorrow, Doyle announced that he wanted off the streets then Bodie would go with him, without hesitating for an instant.
Knowing that he was fighting time, Bodie pulled up in front of Doyle’s flat, his tyres screeching loudly. Bodie smiled as he heard the lecture his partner would give him for burning rubber and scaring old Mrs. Trelawny in the lower flat, but Bodie was anxious to hear his partner’s voice so he ran to the entranceway.
Playing his usual musical notes on the entrance way buzzer, a strange voice answered, Doyle’s flat buzz. “Who is it?”
“Who is this? Come on, Doyle. Have you got someone with you?”
“This is not Doyle. My name is Stephens. I don’t know who you want, but you’ve got the wrong address.”
“Don’t give me that. Ray Doyle has lived here for several months. My name is Bodie. Quit kidding around, Ray.”
“Oh, Mr. Bodie, I’m so glad to hear from you.” The voice stopped as the buzzer sounded and Bodie rushed into the building. He climbed the stairs faster than he had ever done because he was going to kill his partner for this joke he was playing.
When the door opened, however, it wasn’t Ray, but a young man who looked perfectly groomed even at 8.00 at night. He stood there smiling then held out his hand, but when Bodie didn’t take it, he stepped back and invited Bodie into the small flat.
“I . . . I wasn’t expecting you tonight, sir. Mr. Cowley told me that you were coming back from an op so I thought you would be tied up there and maybe would see me in a few days.”
It was obvious the young man was very nervous and his social skills were non-existent, but Bodie was so confused that he decided to ask once again, “Who are you? (and what have you done with Doyle?)
“Oh, I would have thought Mr. Cowley would have told you, “I’m Thomas Stephens, and I’m your new partner.”
In later years, Bodie would swear that he had not blacked out, but was just momentarily stunned. The thought rushed through his mind that Doyle was dead and that this cold-hearted bastard was delivering the message in the most brutal way imaginable, but quickly he came to his senses as he realized that not even triple-think Cowley would permit such a thing, and since he had talked to Cowley earlier that there was more to this than just an injury or worse to Doyle.
Strangely enough he found himself sitting on the settee with a drink in his hand. Obviously Stephens had given him the drink, but what else had happened in those seconds of “confusion”?
Feeling slightly strange, Bodie managed to hoarsely whisper after taking a healthy drink of the amber liquid, “Start at the beginning. Where’s Doyle and how did you get into his flat?”
“I don’t know any Doyle, sir. I’ve just finished my training and was told I could take over this flat. That’s all I know. Oh, and I was told that a William Bodie would be my partner and that he would check with me in the next few days after he finished an undercover assignment.”
For a moment, Bodie looked the slender man with the dark hair and brown eyes up and down. He was not terribly impressed, but he didn’t seem to be as bad as some of the new recruits that were coming forward. Maybe he was telling the truth about not knowing what was going on. He wouldn’t put it past Cowley to keep the rookie totally in the dark.
Taking a final gulp of the liquid, Bodie stood somewhat unsteadily, clearly demonstrating how badly he had been shaken by the possibility of Doyle’s demise and then headed for the door. As he opened the door, he turned and gave Stephens a cold look that had frozen hard-core villains into breaking down within seconds. In a calm voice with frost overtones Bodie spoke firmly to the younger man. “Remember two things, Stephens.” Stephens looked eagerly at his new partner waiting for some golden words of wisdom. What he got chilled him to the bone.
“Never call me sir ever again. You hear me. And second, Ray Doyle is my partner and if you want to live to ever have a partner, don’t just take a man’s word that he is who says he is without checking his credentials.” With those words, Bodie stepped outside, slamming the door at the same time.
Taking long strides, Bodie made it quickly to his car, muttering all the way. “Damn, Cowley, why didn’t he tell me when I talked to him? Where’s Doyle? What’s that scrawny moron done now?
Once again as he pulled out he screeched the tyres, but didn’t really care since he would probably never have any contact ever again with crotchety old Mrs. Trelawny , and he certainly didn’t care what Stephens thought of him.
Picking up his R/T he immediately called into headquarters to make sure that Cowley was there and available. The fury that Bodie felt increased as he got closer to the building that housed CI5. How dare Cowley allow Doyle to leave and not inform him? Over the years, Bodie had become more and more suspicious about Cowley’s motives in separating the partners on various jobs. Ray had never said anything, but he could tell that his golli was taking more and more guilt on his shoulders. The dumb crud probably thought that Cowley was trying to tell him that he couldn’t handle the job anymore.
As Bodie neared CI5, he recalled the difficult months that had followed Doyle’s shooting. Almost everyone at CI5 had thought that 4.5 would never return from a wound in the back and one near the heart. Each and every day Bodie had been amazed at Doyle’s determination to return to the A Squad. Bodie felt his pride increase almost by the second as Doyle took on the pain, the therapy, and then the work with Macklin that had returned him to a condition which would meet CI5 standards. It was during this time that Bodie knew for sure that he loved the snarky man.
Pulling up to CI5 headquarters Bodie felt a surge of love and pride spread through his body as he remembered the closeness that he and his partner had developed during those months of crisis. His love for the skinny frame was now so great almost two years later that he felt ready to confront Cowley about Doyle and his whereabouts. This meeting would make the yelling between Bodie and Cowley during the Van Neikerk episode seem like a minor skirmish. No longer was Bodie the submissive agent who regularly backed down to Cowley’s authority. He felt like a mother bear defending a cub, and as he walked into Cowley’s outer office decided that if he didn’t get satisfactory answers, this would be his last day working for George Cowley.
Betty, looking tired and frazzled, waved him on into the Controller’s office as if she too couldn’t stand to face one more hostile attitude. As usual Cowley was sitting at his desk working. After a few seconds he deigned to look up, just as Bodie was ready to spew forth as Vesuvius had done so long ago.
Cowley looked at Bodie carefully. It was obvious that Bodie was furious and the older man surmised the foundation of Bodie’s anger. He had wanted to ask about the younger man’s injuries and skipping out of the hospital, but decided to begin with another tack before Bodie’s anger made that impossible. “I assume you’re here to begin your debriefing, 3.7. Have you finished your report?”
“I have not, and you know very well I haven’t. I’ll bet that snivelling little weasel, Stephens, immediately reported that I was there.”
Cowley removed his horn-rimmed glasses, allowing his tired blue eyes to frost over in displeasure. “I’ll thank you to keep a civil tongue in your head about the man who is your partner. It is not Stephens’ fault that he knows nothing about Doyle. I purposely let him remain in ignorance because I knew that you would behave in a boorish way about Doyle’s leaving so I felt the need to protect the lad from your shall-we-say less-than-tender personality?”
“Whatta mean “Doyle’s leaving”? Where did he go?”
“As you should know better than anyone; your former partner has reached his fortieth birthday, and decided it was time to leave the streets. He is working with Jack Craine for the next several months, updating the training at the facility. Now if you will kindly go and write your report . . .”
Cowley stopped at those words as Bodie flung his well-toned and supremely controlled body at Cowley’s desk. Never had Bodie been more menacing. Even though the heavy desk still separated them, Cowley could feel the sheer power behind the man and the anger that emanated from his bristling frame. Cowley decided to wait for Bodie’s words which were not long in coming.
“No sir, I will not go and write my report just as if nothing had happened. My partner, Ray Doyle, has left the A Squad, and I can’t believe it’s just because he turned 40. There has to be more to it and I want to hear the rest, and I want to hear it now before I do anything else.”
“You realize I could suspend you right now for such insubordination, don’t you, 3.7?”
Bodie stood up straight as if coming to attention. His handsome face almost took on a smirk as he said, “Yes sir, I do, but frankly I don’t give a damn. I’ve put in ten years with you. You’ve put a gun to my head, ready to kill; you’ve ordered me and Doyle on more operation Susies than I care to remember, and you’ve kept secrets from us in the name of doing it for the good of CI5, so I’ve had enough. Either you tell me the whole story about Doyle leaving or you can have my credentials and gun this very second.”
Blue eyes stared into blue eyes for several seconds then the older pair seemed to change as if the older man had made a decision. Cowley knew he had lost the game and had probably lost Bodie as well, but even then Cowley wasn’t completely finished.
Motioning Bodie to a chair, Cowley began, “I’m surprised you have to ask me about Doyle’s whereabouts. I would have thought after ten years of partnership, and knowing that Doyle was on the precipice of his fortieth birthday, you two wouldn’t have already discussed his future?”
Seeing that he had hit Bodie in a vulnerable spot, Cowley struck another blow. “When Doyle came into to talk to me, he seemed to hint that he was no longer sure of his capabilities in the field . . . oh, not so much that he still wasn’t as good as he had been, but that he might not be able to protect your back as he had previously done. I felt that Doyle, with that attitude, needed some time away from the A Squad.”
Cowley stopped here to give Bodie a few seconds to contemplate that concept before he continued. “You two have always been my best team, but I have to tell you quite frankly that for the last few months, you, Bodie, have seemed to exhibit those same feelings of hesitancy in Doyle’s abilities. That’s one of the reasons that I have separated you more and more. Although Doyle has come in and questioned my partnership assignments - - sometimes most vocally, you never did!”
Now Cowley knew that he had struck the right note. He could see it in Bodie’s face just before 3.7 dropped his chin down to his chest. It was time to go for the jugular. “Why is that, Bodie? Were you tired of being Doyle’s partner or perhaps fearful of being his partner any longer?”
Cowley could see the subtle twitch of Bodie’s muscular body as he heard the question, but just as quickly, the ex-merc raised his head and looked into George Cowley’s face. Hesitating only for a second, he stood and allowed his enormous, powerful body to hover over Cowley’s smaller frame; then he gave his famous Bodie grin and said in a voice so silken that it felt like air crossing hot skin, “I will work out my month’s notice so that you can’t dock my pay. I will even work with that nincompoop Thomas Stephens, but this is the end of my CI5 service. You have manipulated me and Doyle once too often. If you want to suspend me, that’s fine. That will give me time to find Doyle and decide what we want to do. I will go now and write my report and will be ready for debriefing in an hour or whenever you are ready.”
Bodie turned and headed for the door but stopped as Cowley tried once more to turn the knife, “Are you so sure that Doyle wants to have a future with you?”
Turning very slowly, Bodie stared at Cowley as he had done when had faced Cowley after defying his orders during Doyle’s kidnapping during the Ojuka episode. “Yes, sir, I am sure.” With those words, Bodie walked out the door, ignoring Cowley’s voice.
Eighteen hours later, Bodie was squealing his tyres as he left the CI5 parking area. He had expected to be called into Cowley’s office at anytime during those eighteen hours to be informed by Cowley that he was suspended indefinitely or was out on his arse for good, but nothing happened. Murph and several other agents had debriefed him for hours after he had finished his report. It was quite obvious that the old man was ignoring him. Maybe the axe would fall even now, but he had been informed by Betty that he did not have to report again until Monday so that gave him almost three days to locate Doyle and talk to him.
Although he badly wanted to start north immediately, his body was totally drained after the beating and finding out that Doyle had run out on him. He needed some kip so he headed for his flat to put his head down for a few hours. As a measure of the discomfort he was suffering, he had stopped by the medical department to grab some pain killers in case the drive caused a flare up of his cracked ribs and numerous contusions. The doctor had said nothing about him skipping out of the Birmingham hospital, but it was obvious that he was aware of what Bodie had done. The lack of concern shown by Cowley over his injuries definitely indicated the older man’s distress with Bodie’s insubordination since the Scot usually made sure that adequate sick leave was given.
Bodie couldn’t worry about that now; so five hours later, he was once again on the road north heading towards the training facilities where Jack Craine ruled supreme.
As Bodie drove, his mind wandered around many things, he knew he had boasted that he was sure that Doyle wanted a future with him but that was sheer bravado but didn’t warrant worry now until he had actually talked to Doyle.
Thereafter, his thoughts turned to the time that he and Doyle had taken training with Craine as the King Billy incident was coming to a crisis. Bodie knew that he had not been out of his mind, and he certainly hadn’t had a death wish. For one thing, he would not voluntarily choose to die because that would leave Doyle without a trustworthy partner, but, of course, Kate Ross would never have figured that out because she had no idea about his feelings for Doyle; so, of course, she assumed he was trying to off himself and take King Billy out at the same time.
Even Cowley misread his agent and began to believe Ross’ claims, but Bodie had been in total control . . . well at least most of the time. His fist into the side of Jenny’s car door was all for show, but it had hurt. No, what had made him realize that he had lost some control was how he had treated Ray Doyle. Ray Doyle was and hopefully still would be the most important person in his life, but he had pushed their partnership and friendship to the very edge. For weeks after the King Billy arrest, Doyle had made himself distant from the friendship, and Bodie couldn’t really blame him.
Weeks later when Bodie confronted Doyle and offered to let him punch him in retaliation for the blow to the stomach that Bodie had delivered with a tree branch, Doyle had finally told him the truth. Doyle was not blaming Bodie for the King Billy fiasco; he was blaming himself (big surprise) for his failure to back up his partner. Cowley and Ross had thrown it on Doyle for his failure to stay at the site when Bodie was challenging King Billy. They vociferously claimed that it was not what partners do when their other half is in trouble. Doyle had taken those words into his very soul and the feelings had manifested themselves into more guilt and a genuine need to stay away from Bodie.
Fortunately, the partners had overcome this rift, but Bodie now wondered if they would ever be able to get back together again. Why hadn’t Doyle approached him about his feelings about leaving the street? Bodie would have been ready to leave that day, but Doyle had said nothing. The strain of the last four weeks, the severe beating, and most of all losing Doyle made Bodie’s head and body ache. In all fairness, he had to admit that most of the guilt was his, but the bionic golli always took the world’s burdens on his slender shoulders and now they were both paying for it.
Pulling up to the check point of the facility, Bodie wondered if Cowley had called ahead to warn Jack Craine. He didn’t have to wonder very long because the guard at the gate informed him as he having checked his credentials that Jack Craine wanted to see him right away.
End of part 1
Title: Loneliness of Birthdays (1/3)
Author: lbc
Pairing: RD/WAPB
Rating: slash
Disclaimer: I sure wish I owned the lads
Note: This is in honour of MS 67th birthday. Never did it look so good on someone. Total word count: 18,000+ words
Ray Doyle walked out of George Cowley’s office feeling a mixture of despair and something he couldn’t quite understand. In three days, he would leave the A Squad forever when he reached his 40th birthday.
Cowley hadn’t seemed too surprised. After all, Doyle had been on the streets for more than fifteen years, the majority of those with CI5 and some with the Met. Since his shooting by Mayli Kuolo, it had just seemed like a matter of time until he left the streets to find some other profession, but Bodie had kept him on the job. Not that Bodie had ever asked Ray to stay on, although he had certainly been the driving force behind encouraging Doyle to return to CI5 after surviving two bullets and months of therapy.
Each year or rather each birthday had seemed to become more of a burden after the shooting, however, and each birthday Ray Doyle had “celebrated” alone. Certainly he could have had any bird he wanted for his natal day, but Doyle always remained alone as if saying to himself that he had made it by himself for one more year. Although Doyle never tried to lie to Bodie, he had made up the name of a “luscious date” on each occasion whenever Bodie asked him about his plans.
It was the same way every year. Bodie left him alone, assuming that his partner was making merry with one of his vast supply of women, and Doyle had done the same when his partner celebrated a few months later. It was true that the two men had sometimes gone to their local pub on their “day” to have a drink or two, but it had never been more than that.
In fact, birthdays had never been more than that for either Bodie or Doyle. As Doyle looked back on it, he had never been given a gift by any family member nor had Bodie given him something. Bodie called birthdays too sentimental and so the partners had not observed the day as anything special.
Ray Doyle could only remember one “family” birthday. He couldn’t call it special. He called it traumatic. It was his fifteenth, and he had just got in trouble for cutting up another boy pretty badly. He hadn’t got caught, but he hadn’t reckoned on the wrath of his father who had somehow heard about the incident.
The Doyles lived in a less than glamorous section of Derby where violence was not unusual, while rumours and mayhem were constant. His father had trouble keeping a job due to drinking so his mother had held the family together. She had also defended her son once too often and though tough in many ways, was vulnerable to her husband’s wrath.
This day, John Doyle returned home after visiting a pub for too long and staying on the job for too little and found his son dishevelled from his recent encounter with Johnny Morgan, who had cast aspersions on Doyle’s curls and slender body once too often. The fight had lasted very little time, but the aftermath would mark his features for a lifetime.
When John Doyle saw his son’s rumpled appearance, he demanded to know the cause. The fact that he himself was tousled due to too much lager and not enough sleep mattered little because when John Doyle became enraged, he was a force to be reckoned with.
Mary Doyle came to the defence of her son as the green-eyed fifteen year old bristled at his father’s demands, resulting in John Doyle throwing a punch (not for the first time) at his wife. Raymond Doyle had never really intervened before in his mother and father’s verbal fights, but this time was different. Ray stepped between them and was promptly knocked unconscious with a stunning blow to his right cheek which promptly broke the bone and threatened the eye.
Of course, Ray knew nothing of this for a week since he remained unconscious the entire time, but when he awoke John Doyle was in gaol and Mary Doyle was blaming everybody for the break-up of her family.
A few months later Ray Doyle left home for good. That had been his fifteenth birthday and the memories of the events of that day soured him forever on celebrating his birth. That remained true, however, until he met William Bodie. Not that Bodie and he celebrated birthdays. In fact, Bodie seemed to hate celebrating his own naissance even more than Doyle did, but now there was someone who Doyle could be with - - not usually on birthdays, but the rest of the year - - Bodie was there.
Now, at Doyle’s fortieth birthday, Bodie wouldn’t be there. Over the last year or so of their ten year partnership, Cowley had seemed to separate the men more and more. It was true that Bodie was almost three years younger than Doyle, and it crossed Doyle’s mind more and more that Cowley was trying to protect his blue-eyed, dark haired favourite from the growing decrepitude of the once lethal Ray Doyle. At least, that’s the way that Doyle now saw it.
Ray Doyle knew one thing and perhaps only one thing. Bodie was his one true friend, and he would do nothing to endanger Bodie’s life. Partners were there to protect the other partner’s back, and if Ray Doyle couldn’t do that (due to age or bullets) then he was no longer going to be Bodie’s partner.
This was the perfect time to leave Bodie and the A Squad. Bodie had drawn a short-term undercover assignment which would keep him in the Birmingham area for a few weeks. In just four days Ray Doyle was walking out the door of CI5 to head to Jack Craine’s training facility to become an instructor. In three days he would be 40 and the next day, he would be an ex-agent of CI5.
He had not told Bodie of his decision because the crud had volunteered, once again, to fight the good fight against some mercs seeming to set up shop in the north. Doyle would be up and away before Bodie returned. It wasn’t as if Bodie really needed Doyle; the big, blue-eyed handsome man could work with anybody, if he put his mind to it. Doyle had been blessed with working with him for ten years, now it was time to give somebody else a chance, before Doyle did something to get them both, or even worse, Bodie killed.
These past few weeks had been a time of loneliness for Doyle. It was almost an omen of things to come. In the past when Bodie had gone undercover, Doyle had often been his liaison to CI5. Doyle had known what Bodie was doing or at least had been kept informed. This time he knew nothing, Cowley made sure of that; it was probably best that way. Bodie would be upset for a few days when he returned and then he would get on with the job. Bodie’s loyalty and admiration for George Cowley had kept the crazy ex-merc at his job with CI5 for far longer than any other job he had ever held. That wouldn’t change. Loneliness was terrible, but it would keep Bodie alive . . . and with another partner.
The next two days swept by rapidly. Doyle’s flat was clean and ready to be taken over by an active A squad member as soon as Doyle vacated it. Two days before his birthday Jax and his lovely wife had treated him to a birthday meal. This had long been a tradition between the two ex-coppers, and while it had been enjoyable; it wasn’t Bodie.
Yesterday, Murph had taken him to his local for a round of drinks. Murphy didn’t know that Doyle was leaving the A Squad, but Doyle promised himself that he would be sure to buy Murph a round on his birthday in five months if he could get away from Jack Craine’s clutches.
The actual day of Doyle’s birth was no different than others except for his actions at CI5. He had spoken to Cowley briefly, handing in his credentials and signing several documents. He went down to the armoury to turn in his gun and clear out the clothes and extra things he kept at headquarters. He had walked away from the building that had been his life for ten years, never looking back.
After turning in his car, he caught a taxi, deciding to splurge before taking up his domicile at Jack Craine’s facility. His thoughts were confused and despairing. He hadn’t thought it would be so easy to walk away from the last ten years, but without Bodie around, he realized that it hadn’t been the glass and mortar of CI5 that had been his life; it had been Bodie, and now even that lifeline was gone.
Bodie had known for months that Doyle’s fortieth birthday was coming up. Bodie had a hatred for celebrating Christmas and any other sentimental event, but Doyle had expected that Bodie would, at least, mention the fact that Doyle was soon to be 40 and inquire about his plans for the future. It wasn’t unheard of for an A Squad agent to stay on the squad beyond that age, and since Doyle was one of the best, many agents expected to see Doyle’s curls around the place for years to come, but Bodie had said . . . nothing.
In fact, he seemed to ignore the whole thing, and as Doyle’s birthday neared, Bodie grew more and more distant. Maybe he was breathing a sigh of relief that he would soon be unburdened from a partnership where one of the partners could no longer carry his own weight. Whatever it was, Bodie had volunteered for the Birmingham undercover assignment just a week or so before Doyle’s birthday. What message the handsome ex-merc was trying to convey was shrouded in Doyle’s despair. He needed Bodie, but it was painfully apparent that Bodie didn’t need him any longer.
Looking around his flat, Doyle called headquarters to indicate that he was leaving the keys to the flat by the phone. With those few words, he closed the door on ten years as an active agent with CI5, got out his motorcycle and headed north.
BDBDBDBDBDBDBDBDBDBDB
Two weeks later
Driving on the A41, Bodie had plenty of time to think as he left Birmingham and headed toward London.
He was exhausted, and he ached in every part of his body - - even his crow’s-feet ached! Bodie was not a vain man. He knew that he was good looking; he had certainly been told so by the many birds he had slept with over the years, but it had meant little or nothing to him.
When Doyle, however, had pointed out the tiny wrinkles that appeared around his eyes - - that was a big deal! He was growing old. Of course, he was growing old; he had had a hard life, but he accepted that. What had bothered him about that statement was the future of his partnership with Ray Doyle.
To Bodie, Ray Doyle looked exactly the same as he did ten years before when their partnership began, but now he found himself noticing the bits of grey in Doyle’s hair around the ears. As usual with Doyle, it made him look even more beautiful, but it did make Bodie fearful about the two men and their future together.
Doyle was still the same lithe, lethal, snarky sod that he had always been. He was the best partner a man could ever want, but he was now also 40 years of age, and Bodie began to wonder what Doyle’s plans were. A few years before they had talked about coming off the street, but nothing had been said for quite awhile.
Now Bodie was carrying in his pocket a birthday gift for his long time partner. The pressie was not to commemorate his golli’s birthday so much as it was to commemorate the partnership, and the man who had made it the most fulfilling relationship that Bodie had ever known. In fact, in the weeks away from Doyle, Bodie had come to realize how much he had missed the hot-tempered, sharp-tongued crud, and how his feelings had gone so far beyond the friendship and fraternal love that he felt for the beautiful imp.
Bodie had to admit that he had made a mistake in letting Cowley force him into this recent undercover op. His cover had been blown by a merc who had known about his CI5 connections, but, fortunately, the local and CI5 back-up and had got there in time so that he only received a rather bad beating before the villains were rounded up and taken into custody.
Unfortunately for Bodie, the beating further emphasized the years that his 37 year old body had endured this type of thing. Age had always meant little to him, but in a few months, he would be 38. It was time for him to come off the street, but he would not do so until Doyle made the decision to leave the streets as well. He would never leave Doyle with some partner he could not rely on.
That very commitment brought up new worries, however, because he should have spoken to Doyle before he left for Birmingham. Instead, he had been a coward. Instead of facing his feelings for his partner, he had allowed himself to grow more and more distant. Each time he saw the broken-cheeked angel face, he loved him more, but how could he tell his very macho, heterosexual golli that his partner of ten years had fallen all over himself for his curls, his face, as well as his whole body. Doyle would have punched his lights out.
He knew when he agreed to the undercover op that he would be absent for Doyle’s fortieth birthday. The partners had never made much to-do over birthdays or Christmas - - maybe just a drink in the pub. After all, Doyle always had a bird to hand for these celebrations so Bodie never wanted to interfere, but a man’s fortieth was different and Bodie should have been there for his best friend’s big day.
As Bodie neared the lights of London, he decided he would drop by Doyle’s and give him his pressie then head onto headquarters and write up his report. Cowley had talked to him before he left Birmingham and let him know that CI5 would immediately begin work on tying up the loose ends of the operation. Bodie’s debriefing would begin almost immediately so it was imperative that Bodie should show up at headquarters that evening and deliver his information, but after almost a month of being gone and not seeing his partner, Bodie now knew what was more important to him - - he had to see Doyle and give him his gift.
Let Cowley hang. At one time Bodie would have rushed to do the bidding of George Cowley. The man had done a lot for the ex-merc and ex-soldier, but over the years Bodie’s loyalty and devotion had transferred (albeit gradually and subtly) to his partner. Bodie now knew who kept him at CI5 and if tomorrow, Doyle announced that he wanted off the streets then Bodie would go with him, without hesitating for an instant.
Knowing that he was fighting time, Bodie pulled up in front of Doyle’s flat, his tyres screeching loudly. Bodie smiled as he heard the lecture his partner would give him for burning rubber and scaring old Mrs. Trelawny in the lower flat, but Bodie was anxious to hear his partner’s voice so he ran to the entranceway.
Playing his usual musical notes on the entrance way buzzer, a strange voice answered, Doyle’s flat buzz. “Who is it?”
“Who is this? Come on, Doyle. Have you got someone with you?”
“This is not Doyle. My name is Stephens. I don’t know who you want, but you’ve got the wrong address.”
“Don’t give me that. Ray Doyle has lived here for several months. My name is Bodie. Quit kidding around, Ray.”
“Oh, Mr. Bodie, I’m so glad to hear from you.” The voice stopped as the buzzer sounded and Bodie rushed into the building. He climbed the stairs faster than he had ever done because he was going to kill his partner for this joke he was playing.
When the door opened, however, it wasn’t Ray, but a young man who looked perfectly groomed even at 8.00 at night. He stood there smiling then held out his hand, but when Bodie didn’t take it, he stepped back and invited Bodie into the small flat.
“I . . . I wasn’t expecting you tonight, sir. Mr. Cowley told me that you were coming back from an op so I thought you would be tied up there and maybe would see me in a few days.”
It was obvious the young man was very nervous and his social skills were non-existent, but Bodie was so confused that he decided to ask once again, “Who are you? (and what have you done with Doyle?)
“Oh, I would have thought Mr. Cowley would have told you, “I’m Thomas Stephens, and I’m your new partner.”
In later years, Bodie would swear that he had not blacked out, but was just momentarily stunned. The thought rushed through his mind that Doyle was dead and that this cold-hearted bastard was delivering the message in the most brutal way imaginable, but quickly he came to his senses as he realized that not even triple-think Cowley would permit such a thing, and since he had talked to Cowley earlier that there was more to this than just an injury or worse to Doyle.
Strangely enough he found himself sitting on the settee with a drink in his hand. Obviously Stephens had given him the drink, but what else had happened in those seconds of “confusion”?
Feeling slightly strange, Bodie managed to hoarsely whisper after taking a healthy drink of the amber liquid, “Start at the beginning. Where’s Doyle and how did you get into his flat?”
“I don’t know any Doyle, sir. I’ve just finished my training and was told I could take over this flat. That’s all I know. Oh, and I was told that a William Bodie would be my partner and that he would check with me in the next few days after he finished an undercover assignment.”
For a moment, Bodie looked the slender man with the dark hair and brown eyes up and down. He was not terribly impressed, but he didn’t seem to be as bad as some of the new recruits that were coming forward. Maybe he was telling the truth about not knowing what was going on. He wouldn’t put it past Cowley to keep the rookie totally in the dark.
Taking a final gulp of the liquid, Bodie stood somewhat unsteadily, clearly demonstrating how badly he had been shaken by the possibility of Doyle’s demise and then headed for the door. As he opened the door, he turned and gave Stephens a cold look that had frozen hard-core villains into breaking down within seconds. In a calm voice with frost overtones Bodie spoke firmly to the younger man. “Remember two things, Stephens.” Stephens looked eagerly at his new partner waiting for some golden words of wisdom. What he got chilled him to the bone.
“Never call me sir ever again. You hear me. And second, Ray Doyle is my partner and if you want to live to ever have a partner, don’t just take a man’s word that he is who says he is without checking his credentials.” With those words, Bodie stepped outside, slamming the door at the same time.
Taking long strides, Bodie made it quickly to his car, muttering all the way. “Damn, Cowley, why didn’t he tell me when I talked to him? Where’s Doyle? What’s that scrawny moron done now?
Once again as he pulled out he screeched the tyres, but didn’t really care since he would probably never have any contact ever again with crotchety old Mrs. Trelawny , and he certainly didn’t care what Stephens thought of him.
Picking up his R/T he immediately called into headquarters to make sure that Cowley was there and available. The fury that Bodie felt increased as he got closer to the building that housed CI5. How dare Cowley allow Doyle to leave and not inform him? Over the years, Bodie had become more and more suspicious about Cowley’s motives in separating the partners on various jobs. Ray had never said anything, but he could tell that his golli was taking more and more guilt on his shoulders. The dumb crud probably thought that Cowley was trying to tell him that he couldn’t handle the job anymore.
As Bodie neared CI5, he recalled the difficult months that had followed Doyle’s shooting. Almost everyone at CI5 had thought that 4.5 would never return from a wound in the back and one near the heart. Each and every day Bodie had been amazed at Doyle’s determination to return to the A Squad. Bodie felt his pride increase almost by the second as Doyle took on the pain, the therapy, and then the work with Macklin that had returned him to a condition which would meet CI5 standards. It was during this time that Bodie knew for sure that he loved the snarky man.
Pulling up to CI5 headquarters Bodie felt a surge of love and pride spread through his body as he remembered the closeness that he and his partner had developed during those months of crisis. His love for the skinny frame was now so great almost two years later that he felt ready to confront Cowley about Doyle and his whereabouts. This meeting would make the yelling between Bodie and Cowley during the Van Neikerk episode seem like a minor skirmish. No longer was Bodie the submissive agent who regularly backed down to Cowley’s authority. He felt like a mother bear defending a cub, and as he walked into Cowley’s outer office decided that if he didn’t get satisfactory answers, this would be his last day working for George Cowley.
Betty, looking tired and frazzled, waved him on into the Controller’s office as if she too couldn’t stand to face one more hostile attitude. As usual Cowley was sitting at his desk working. After a few seconds he deigned to look up, just as Bodie was ready to spew forth as Vesuvius had done so long ago.
Cowley looked at Bodie carefully. It was obvious that Bodie was furious and the older man surmised the foundation of Bodie’s anger. He had wanted to ask about the younger man’s injuries and skipping out of the hospital, but decided to begin with another tack before Bodie’s anger made that impossible. “I assume you’re here to begin your debriefing, 3.7. Have you finished your report?”
“I have not, and you know very well I haven’t. I’ll bet that snivelling little weasel, Stephens, immediately reported that I was there.”
Cowley removed his horn-rimmed glasses, allowing his tired blue eyes to frost over in displeasure. “I’ll thank you to keep a civil tongue in your head about the man who is your partner. It is not Stephens’ fault that he knows nothing about Doyle. I purposely let him remain in ignorance because I knew that you would behave in a boorish way about Doyle’s leaving so I felt the need to protect the lad from your shall-we-say less-than-tender personality?”
“Whatta mean “Doyle’s leaving”? Where did he go?”
“As you should know better than anyone; your former partner has reached his fortieth birthday, and decided it was time to leave the streets. He is working with Jack Craine for the next several months, updating the training at the facility. Now if you will kindly go and write your report . . .”
Cowley stopped at those words as Bodie flung his well-toned and supremely controlled body at Cowley’s desk. Never had Bodie been more menacing. Even though the heavy desk still separated them, Cowley could feel the sheer power behind the man and the anger that emanated from his bristling frame. Cowley decided to wait for Bodie’s words which were not long in coming.
“No sir, I will not go and write my report just as if nothing had happened. My partner, Ray Doyle, has left the A Squad, and I can’t believe it’s just because he turned 40. There has to be more to it and I want to hear the rest, and I want to hear it now before I do anything else.”
“You realize I could suspend you right now for such insubordination, don’t you, 3.7?”
Bodie stood up straight as if coming to attention. His handsome face almost took on a smirk as he said, “Yes sir, I do, but frankly I don’t give a damn. I’ve put in ten years with you. You’ve put a gun to my head, ready to kill; you’ve ordered me and Doyle on more operation Susies than I care to remember, and you’ve kept secrets from us in the name of doing it for the good of CI5, so I’ve had enough. Either you tell me the whole story about Doyle leaving or you can have my credentials and gun this very second.”
Blue eyes stared into blue eyes for several seconds then the older pair seemed to change as if the older man had made a decision. Cowley knew he had lost the game and had probably lost Bodie as well, but even then Cowley wasn’t completely finished.
Motioning Bodie to a chair, Cowley began, “I’m surprised you have to ask me about Doyle’s whereabouts. I would have thought after ten years of partnership, and knowing that Doyle was on the precipice of his fortieth birthday, you two wouldn’t have already discussed his future?”
Seeing that he had hit Bodie in a vulnerable spot, Cowley struck another blow. “When Doyle came into to talk to me, he seemed to hint that he was no longer sure of his capabilities in the field . . . oh, not so much that he still wasn’t as good as he had been, but that he might not be able to protect your back as he had previously done. I felt that Doyle, with that attitude, needed some time away from the A Squad.”
Cowley stopped here to give Bodie a few seconds to contemplate that concept before he continued. “You two have always been my best team, but I have to tell you quite frankly that for the last few months, you, Bodie, have seemed to exhibit those same feelings of hesitancy in Doyle’s abilities. That’s one of the reasons that I have separated you more and more. Although Doyle has come in and questioned my partnership assignments - - sometimes most vocally, you never did!”
Now Cowley knew that he had struck the right note. He could see it in Bodie’s face just before 3.7 dropped his chin down to his chest. It was time to go for the jugular. “Why is that, Bodie? Were you tired of being Doyle’s partner or perhaps fearful of being his partner any longer?”
Cowley could see the subtle twitch of Bodie’s muscular body as he heard the question, but just as quickly, the ex-merc raised his head and looked into George Cowley’s face. Hesitating only for a second, he stood and allowed his enormous, powerful body to hover over Cowley’s smaller frame; then he gave his famous Bodie grin and said in a voice so silken that it felt like air crossing hot skin, “I will work out my month’s notice so that you can’t dock my pay. I will even work with that nincompoop Thomas Stephens, but this is the end of my CI5 service. You have manipulated me and Doyle once too often. If you want to suspend me, that’s fine. That will give me time to find Doyle and decide what we want to do. I will go now and write my report and will be ready for debriefing in an hour or whenever you are ready.”
Bodie turned and headed for the door but stopped as Cowley tried once more to turn the knife, “Are you so sure that Doyle wants to have a future with you?”
Turning very slowly, Bodie stared at Cowley as he had done when had faced Cowley after defying his orders during Doyle’s kidnapping during the Ojuka episode. “Yes, sir, I am sure.” With those words, Bodie walked out the door, ignoring Cowley’s voice.
Eighteen hours later, Bodie was squealing his tyres as he left the CI5 parking area. He had expected to be called into Cowley’s office at anytime during those eighteen hours to be informed by Cowley that he was suspended indefinitely or was out on his arse for good, but nothing happened. Murph and several other agents had debriefed him for hours after he had finished his report. It was quite obvious that the old man was ignoring him. Maybe the axe would fall even now, but he had been informed by Betty that he did not have to report again until Monday so that gave him almost three days to locate Doyle and talk to him.
Although he badly wanted to start north immediately, his body was totally drained after the beating and finding out that Doyle had run out on him. He needed some kip so he headed for his flat to put his head down for a few hours. As a measure of the discomfort he was suffering, he had stopped by the medical department to grab some pain killers in case the drive caused a flare up of his cracked ribs and numerous contusions. The doctor had said nothing about him skipping out of the Birmingham hospital, but it was obvious that he was aware of what Bodie had done. The lack of concern shown by Cowley over his injuries definitely indicated the older man’s distress with Bodie’s insubordination since the Scot usually made sure that adequate sick leave was given.
Bodie couldn’t worry about that now; so five hours later, he was once again on the road north heading towards the training facilities where Jack Craine ruled supreme.
As Bodie drove, his mind wandered around many things, he knew he had boasted that he was sure that Doyle wanted a future with him but that was sheer bravado but didn’t warrant worry now until he had actually talked to Doyle.
Thereafter, his thoughts turned to the time that he and Doyle had taken training with Craine as the King Billy incident was coming to a crisis. Bodie knew that he had not been out of his mind, and he certainly hadn’t had a death wish. For one thing, he would not voluntarily choose to die because that would leave Doyle without a trustworthy partner, but, of course, Kate Ross would never have figured that out because she had no idea about his feelings for Doyle; so, of course, she assumed he was trying to off himself and take King Billy out at the same time.
Even Cowley misread his agent and began to believe Ross’ claims, but Bodie had been in total control . . . well at least most of the time. His fist into the side of Jenny’s car door was all for show, but it had hurt. No, what had made him realize that he had lost some control was how he had treated Ray Doyle. Ray Doyle was and hopefully still would be the most important person in his life, but he had pushed their partnership and friendship to the very edge. For weeks after the King Billy arrest, Doyle had made himself distant from the friendship, and Bodie couldn’t really blame him.
Weeks later when Bodie confronted Doyle and offered to let him punch him in retaliation for the blow to the stomach that Bodie had delivered with a tree branch, Doyle had finally told him the truth. Doyle was not blaming Bodie for the King Billy fiasco; he was blaming himself (big surprise) for his failure to back up his partner. Cowley and Ross had thrown it on Doyle for his failure to stay at the site when Bodie was challenging King Billy. They vociferously claimed that it was not what partners do when their other half is in trouble. Doyle had taken those words into his very soul and the feelings had manifested themselves into more guilt and a genuine need to stay away from Bodie.
Fortunately, the partners had overcome this rift, but Bodie now wondered if they would ever be able to get back together again. Why hadn’t Doyle approached him about his feelings about leaving the street? Bodie would have been ready to leave that day, but Doyle had said nothing. The strain of the last four weeks, the severe beating, and most of all losing Doyle made Bodie’s head and body ache. In all fairness, he had to admit that most of the guilt was his, but the bionic golli always took the world’s burdens on his slender shoulders and now they were both paying for it.
Pulling up to the check point of the facility, Bodie wondered if Cowley had called ahead to warn Jack Craine. He didn’t have to wonder very long because the guard at the gate informed him as he having checked his credentials that Jack Craine wanted to see him right away.
End of part 1