(no subject)
Title: A Matter of Trust, A Matter of Doubt
Author: Longstrt
Total Words: 11,420
Note: I have never tried to write a story like this. It is highly likely that it will not come to a conclusion in this story.
PROLOGUE
I’ve always seen myself as a person who is not shy about his feelings or his perception of what needs to be done, but recent events have really stymied me.
If you had asked me a few months ago, what I felt was the essential truth about WAP Bodie (better known as 3.7), I would have said that I could absolutely trust him, in every situation, both on and off the streets. After all, you can’t be partners with a man and do some of the things we’ve done for CI5 and this sceptered isle without pretty much knowing the trustworthiness of the person who’s worked with you almost every waking minute of the past eight years. I’m trying to say that the man who saved me from Kathy Preston, desperately ran to get help when I had been shot by Mayli, told me that he knew I wouldn’t fail him when he needed backup, and thousands of other moments, was the Bodie I trusted, but now I’m not so sure.
The change in Bodie had appeared so subtly that I failed to notice some of the changes, but I know now the Bodie of the last few months isn’t the same man that I’ve known for almost a decade.
I’ve tried to go and talk to Cowley about Bodie so many times, but I always turned coward. How could I expose my partner, the man who risked his life so many times when we were out on the streets, but Cowley seemed to be as blind as I was about the change in Bodie so I chickened out each and every time that I was going to bring up Bodie’s behavior.
And then one day my confusion and fears all came to a mind-blowing confrontation, and that’s why I am about to walk into George Cowley’s office and demand a new partner - - a partner that is not William Andrew Philip Bodie, because I know now that I can never trust him again.
PART ONE
“All right, 4.5, what is it? I’m very busy today, as you should well know since your partner is working in liaison with SAS that I need every man at the top of his game and here you are, sitting in front of me, looking like you’ve just swallowed something that doesn’t taste good.”
Looking at George Cowley, Doyle knew that he had better spit it out right away before his indigestion overwhelmed him and Cowley threw him out the door, but somehow the topic he wanted most to talk about with Cowley didn’t seem to want to come out. Finally, Doyle mumbled, “I want to talk about Bodie.”
Doyle was amazed at the facial expression that Cowley seemed to be reluctant to show for a second or two before he got his feelings under control. Doyle suddenly realized that, for some reason, Cowley had his own feelings about Bodie that he was not willing to show to anyone not even Doyle.
“Doyle, I’m too busy today to talk about you and Bodie. If you have had another one of your petty fights, I’ll see if I can extend Bodie’s liaison assignment for a day or two until the two of you can cool off and get over this pettiness.”
Doyle almost grimaced at Cowley’s implied words that Bodie and Doyle were once again acting like children and not as Cowley’s best team should be acting. Clearing his throat, Doyle said, “Uh, no sir, we have not had a fight, but I do want to make clear that I am deadly serious about this situation with Bodie. I know I haven’t seen him for a few days, but this all started a few months ago. He’s not the same Bodie as before. He criticizes me all the time, refuses to be in my company unless we’re on the streets, has implied that I’m not doing my job, and, in general, gives every indication that he doesn’t trust me.”
“Every partnership has these little growing pains, and you two have had to do some pretty tough things over the eight years you’ve been partnered; maybe it’s a good thing that you’ve been separated from each other for the last few days. Maybe this time away from each other will help resolve this tension between you.”
Staring at Cowley’s obviously insincere face, Doyle knew that there was more to what was going on than Cowley thought, but Doyle couldn’t tell the CI5 Controller the truth so he decided to blurt out his demand and back it up with his resignation if he had to.
“Sir, I want a new partner. I do not want Bodie as my partner anymore.”
Cowley’s genuine shock registered on his face and he seemed to find it almost impossible to control his surprise over Doyle’s demand. He thought he knew his Chalk and Cheese too well to have not foreseen this totally unexpected turn of events.
“Doyle, you don’t mean it; just take a few days off and then I’ll assign you a temporary partner until Bodie returns to full time duty. I’m sure you two can work it out; you always have.”
Cowley knew he had lost his gamble when he saw the rigid tension dominating Doyle’s face. Of all the men in CI5, Raymond Doyle was the one man who would always confront what he felt was his duty and stand by his decision, no matter how painful it was.
“All right, tell me about it. What’s wrong?”
Doyle dropped his head so that Cowley could not read Doyle’s face. He remained quiet for much longer than necessary. The silence was like a battering ram hitting Cowley in the face because Cowley now realized that this was a much more serious than he had thought because he could always count on Doyle to take the bull by the horns and state exactly what was in his mind. The fact that he dropped his head and wouldn’t look at Cowley was like a siren blowing in the night - - clearly Doyle did not want to talk about what was wrong and yet, he was still here in front of him, waiting to have a discussion.
For once, George Cowley was reluctant to confront this possibly explosive issue in his own mind. He had a sneaking suspicion that he might know what was at the edge of Doyle’s unhappiness with Bodie, but he could not be responsible for bringing up the issue - - no, Doyle would have to do that.
Instead of delving further into his unhappiness with the partnership, Doyle drew up his courage and blurted out in a quiet but firm voice, “I want to change partners; I no longer want Bodie to be my partner, and I want the change to take place right away. I am prepared to resign if you feel you cannot comply with my request.”
Although Cowley had suspected something like that, he had hoped that his triple think might be wrong, but now his was faced with the raw feeling that had burst forth with Doyle’s agonizing demand. Cowley was a master at triple think, but he was facing a man who was very good at double and triple think himself. Doyle would not easily be comforted by words from Cowley. Cowley wasn’t even sure that he could put off Doyle’s demand without alienating the man even further in a situation which would lead to Doyle’s resignation.
As if Doyle could read Cowley’s mind, Doyle repeated once again, “I am prepared to resign, if you are not willing to assign me to a new partner. I would also be willing to work solo, but I cannot in good conscience continue to work with Bodie.”
Dread entered Cowley’s body because his triple think had climbed the wall into quadruple think, and he suddenly knew why Doyle was so unhappy with Bodie - - the real reason. Oh, he didn’t know the reason down to the most minuscule detail, but he could feel where this was leading, and he was not sure he wanted to go there.
Cowley sat there for a few seconds trying to foresee the future then he sighed and said, “All right, Doyle. Take the next four days off and when you return, I will have a new a partner assigned to you. Is there anything else?”
Doyle looked up, his green eyes staring into blue eyes, saying nothing, he merely shook his head, stood and walked to the door. Without turning around he left the office, his shoulders slumped in absolute despair. He felt bereft of the trust that he had counted on for so many years. First, he had lost Bodie, and now he knew that he could not even trust Cowley. Normally Cowley would have hammered at him until he found out why Doyle no longer wanted to work with Bodie. He would have shown no mercy - - not one iota of sympathy for Doyle’s obvious distress and despair, but this time he had let him off with no demands and no questions. As Doyle walked down the familiar corridor, his slender body felt tortured by the knowledge that he had just gained - - the knowledge that Bodie had betrayed him and that George Cowley was IN ON THAT BETRAYAL!!!!!
PART 2
Cowley sat staring into space for several minutes. One sentence that Doyle had said kept running over and over in his mind - - “I cannot in good conscience continue to work with Bodie” What did Doyle mean by that? What did Doyle know?
For several minutes Cowley continued to debate with himself then picked up the receiver of his VERY PRIVATE LINE and placed a call to someone on the other end. Leaving a brief message that was automatically encoded, Cowley put down the phone and sighed. He badly needed to make contact with the man he had requested return his call, but truthfully Cowley was of two minds about talking to Bodie. Could Bodie even do anything to stave off the catastrophe that was about to happen or had the demise of his best team already occurred?
Within the hour, the phone buzzed and a familiar voice was on the other end of the line, “Sir?”
“Bodie, I have bad news. I think Doyle knows.”
Silence filled the line for several seconds and then Bodie responded with hesitancy in his question, “How could he, sir.”
“I don’t know, but he’s threatening to resign if I don’t give him a new partner.”
“I don’t want to lose him as a partner. What did you tell him?”
“I told him to take the next four days off, and then on Monday, I would assign him to someone new.”
“No.”
“I’m sorry, Bodie. I didn’t know what else to do. You know he’s perfectly capable of carrying through on the threat.”
“No. Just No. I won’t agree to a new partner.”
“It will be a done deal on Monday.”
“No, I will come down and talk to him this weekend. I’ll give him my extra charm. I’ve always been able to persuade him.”
“You can’t tell him the truth and that is the only thing that he will accept. You know how he is. His integrity is one of the things that makes him such a superior agent. What can you say to him?”
“I can’t let him find another partner. I’ll be there before you turn him over to someone else and see if we can’t straighten this out.”
“I believe you remember that I told you this might happen.”
“Yes, sir. As usual your double think was working at a 110%, but I’m not going to give up. See you soon.”
Cowley silently replaced the receiver, shook his head and tried to return to the pile of work that he had been working on, but, for once, Cowley’s mind was distracted by his thoughts about his favourite team. When Bodie had come to work at CI5, it was his personal loyalty to Cowley that had fashioned Bodie into a top-notch agent, but Cowley quickly recognized that Bodie’s loyalty and trust had switched to Raymond Doyle as it should have as the two men’s relationship had grown. Cowley had thought that nothing could shake that foundation but now it seemed to be crumbling. Cowley had never paid much attention to old wives stories, but the feeling of rising apprehension about what the future held for those two young men was much like his aunt’s often repeated feeling that some goose was wandering over a grave.
PART 3
Doyle dragged himself up the 22 stairs to his flat. In his youth, Doyle had read story after story about the famous 17 stairs that led up to Sherlock Holmes’ rooms, and it had always struck him as vaguely romantic to have a life so organized that the datum about one’s number of stairs was the epitome of a well-ordered life. Those stairs had made such an impression on the young Doyle that he had begun to count the number of stairs to each flat he had been assigned during his working life.
Now those stairs represented something very different to the man who had spent so many years of his life in law enforcement, first as a copper and then as a CI5 agent. The knowledge of the number of stairs spoke to him now as a message about a life well-wasted. Where was he now and where was he going? Especially since he had lost Bodie and the trust and loyalty that they had once enjoyed had come crashing down one dreary night in a foul smelling warehouse.
That memory drove him to the top of the stairs and into the rather drab flat that reflected none of Doyle’s personality since he had convinced himself that his personality had become a reflection of Bodie’s view of him.
Doyle took a deep breath, looking around the room in deep despair. In the weeks since Bodie had left his side, Doyle had ceased to care about his living quarters and had left the inoffensive rooms drain away to almost nothing except as a shelter to use as a primitive hideaway.
After several minutes of looking at the walls that had once held within a long, firm, trusting relationship between Doyle and his partner, the curly haired man broke down with body-racking sobs. Doyle had not cried since the night that Bodie had been brought in hospital with a knife wound after an attack in a Black Town water tower.
Doyle suddenly stood up, shook himself, trying to break away from his distress. Bodie, Bodie, Bodie - - Doyle told himself to stop thinking about the man. Before he had met Bodie, he was an independent copper who had survived some of the toughest streets of London. He had let the handsome ex-merc get under his skin, and now it was time to take back his life. Bodie’s betrayal was not going to destroy Ray Doyle.
One of the foundations of his life was control. Getting rid of the pain wouldn’t be easy, but regaining control of his life would be easier if he started a regimen of behaviour that would permit him to exist without the man who had stuck a figurative knife in his heart. Doyle knew that for himself the place to start was cleaning this flat from top to bottom and then inviting his true friends over for a friendly game of poker.
With four days away from Cowley’s clutches, Doyle could have put everything off, but one major characteristic of Doyle’s personality was to start a project right away and continue on with it until it had been accomplished. First, came the phone calls to invite Murphy, Jax, Anson, Templeton, and Matthews over for poker. Then, he would think about food because he knew that these agents could challenge any ravening horde of animals in the devouring of food, and finally he would clean the flat until it was acceptable to his personal perception of perfection.
Doyle had not planned a get-together like this for a long time. It had just seemed natural to spend his time with Bodie in earlier years. Just watching the telly and sharing their favourite food had been enough for Doyle and his partner, but that life was no more so Doyle was going to make up for lost time. He had even saved his old toothbrushes so that he could scrub in every corner of his small kitchen.
Once the game was set for the next evening, Doyle felt the old eagerness to get the task done that lay ahead. Raymond Doyle had always been slender, even though Bodie had told him he was scrawny, but in the next 24 hours, he worked like a mad man because this poker invite was not just a game among friends, but also step number one in the war against Bodism.
The five starving men dragged into Doyle’s flat eager to play poker. Jax claimed that his fiancee was out of town so he hadn’t been fed in days. Templeton and Matthews being on the B Squad easily blamed their hunger on their wives who were having a girls’ night out and, of course, hadn’t given a thought to feeding their better halves.
Anson was practically drooling when he banged on the door and since he was a bachelor, he used that as his justification for starting on the food the moment he entered.
Only Murphy had thought to bring something in the way of food. He had brought various forms of liquor and placed his trove near the food. Doyle thanked him, but said that it really wasn’t necessary because he had a lot of liquid refreshment to which Murphy replied, “You haven’t invited this little gathering for quite some time, and I wanted to be sure that there was enough for these lushes to drink.” Only Jax whimpered mildly about Murphy impugning his character.
Without further ado, consumption began and cards were dealt. For the next several hours little else occurred until Anson, who was obviously well-fed and well-liquored spoke up, looking very bleary eyed at the reasonably sober Jax and asked, “Jax, you cheatin’?
For a moment, Jax looked confused about the subject that Anson was referring to, then replied, “I’ll have you know that I am totally loyal to Gwendolyn, my fiancee!”
The rest of the crowd immediately stepped in, trying to nod their heads in agreement with Jax’s words, and Doyle even was sober enough to ask gracefully, “And just what are you hinting that our Jax might be doing?”
Anson looked totally confused about the question, screwing up his face and trying to read his cards to gain some help in this subject matter. His normally slow working brain, worked even slower but finally he came out with, “No, no, I didn’t mean Gwen, she’s all right. I meant ‘Are you cheating at these cards?’”
The tension immediately went out of the room when the slightly under the weather poker players heard Anson’s response. Anson may have been impugning Jax’s integrity, but, at least, he wasn’t maligning the man’s fiancee.
Only Murphy seemed to really be understanding the deep nuances of this superficial conversation and asked, “And what makes you think that Jax is cheating?”
Anson’s voice rose but was clear enough when he burst out with, “’Cause he’s playing with TEN cards and the rest of us only have five!”
All five men then stared at Jax’s hand in confusion. Templeton said, Are you sure; it looks like eight to me?”
The rest of the players chimed in their opinions which most agreed seemed to be five.
This earth shaking discussion put an obvious cease and desist on the activity until Murphy once again came to the rescue when he looked at Anson and asked, “How many fingers am I holding up?”
Since Murphy was holding up his whole right hand, he thought he was making it easy for Anson, but after much ado, Anson burst forth with “Ten!”
“Anson, besides being a moron, a drunk, and totally uncouth, there are only five fingers being demonstrated which tells my sharp detective’s mind that you are seeing double!”
“Oh, well that explains why I was seeing your twin brother at this game when I’m sure Doyle would never invite HIM.”
Doyle finally entered the conversation by issuing words that equaled Solomon, “I think Anson’s too drunk to play anymore. How about we call it a night?”
The other three players nodded in various stages of sobriety, so that the game quickly broke up. Anson and Jax were assigned to a taxi that Doyle had called for, while Templeton and Matthews said their wives were coming to get them right about now so everything worked out well. No one made any comments about the short leash these wives kept their husbands on.
Within a few minutes the flat had been cleared by four men’s bodies, but Doyle easily perceived that one individual had not left. Starting to clear the mess that had piled up, Doyle turned on Murphy with his legendary diplomacy and said, “What are you hangin’ around for?”
Murphy knew Doyle VERY WELL so he met fire with fire, “I heard a rumour in the halls of our hallowed work place. What’s this about you and Bodie?”
Doyle had been drinking, but at this moment he turned completely sober, and his cold words would have frozen anyone else from going any further on this obviously painful subject, “It’s none of your business, 6.2”
Murphy, however, was made of sterner stuff so he ploughed ahead. “I heard that you dumped Bodie as your partner.”
Now, Murphy was a master at reading Raymond Doyle. He hadn’t spent several months in the man’s bed without gaining a great deal of intimate knowledge about the beautiful seven stone wonder, but for a moment, he thought he had overstepped the boundary and that he was going to receive a right hook and would soon visit the floor, but it didn’t happen. Murphy had deliberately used the word, “dump,” to taunt this provoking man into giving him a straight answer, but almost too late Murphy realized that the only thing he had provoked was a rearranged jaw from a Doyle blow.
Fortunately, Doyle’s green eyes betrayed him. Murphy could see in those eyes that he had not driven Doyle to the edge. Usually when anyone criticized Bodie in front of Doyle, the spitfire’s eyes of green blazed with a fire that would burn forever, but this time - NOTHING. Somehow that worried Murphy worse than a punch would have done.
Doyle threw his cleaning rag at Murphy, picked up some dishes and turned towards the kitchen. Murphy stood still waiting. His patience was rewarded when he heard Doyle banging around in the kitchen, looking for something and mumbling a few well chosen words, and then he came rushing into the living room, stalked up to Murphy, leaving less than an inch between their noses. He was breathing heavily, but then he backed away a step, and said very clearly,
“I don’t want to work with Bodie any more. I DO NOT TRUST HIM, and the rest is between him and me.”
Murphy’s blue eyes tried to stare into the beloved green ones, but Doyle wouldn’t hold his stare. If Doyle had said that Bodie had stolen the love of Doyle’s life, he couldn’t have been more shocked. What idiocy was this? The trust and loyal between Bodie and Doyle was legendary. What could have happened to destroy that relationship?
Quite frankly, Murphy was confused, perhaps even more so than Anson had been earlier. The only thing he knew to do was ask, “Why don’t you trust Bodie any more.”
“It’s none of your business. I don’t want to put my life in jeopardy by going out on the streets with 3.7, and that’s all I’m going to say.”
“What did Cowley say?”
The green eyes were smoldering now so Murphy knew that this situation was turning more and more serious, but there must have been something that had triggered this awful breach, what was it?
“Ray, you’ve got to know that Bodie is the best, next to you, of course, what has he done?”
“Murphy, don’t you have a home to go to? I haven’t seen your psychiatrist’s license or anything so just leave off.”
Murphy immediately picked up the subtle hint that he was trespassing and should toddle on home, but, for some reason, he felt that he had to stick up for the absent Bodie. “Ray, you’ve got to know that you are the only person that Bodie trusts, except for Cowley, maybe. Are you going to talk to him so that you two can get this straightened out?”
“COWLEY! That’s rich, he’s in on this and helping to cover up what his fair-haired, blue-eyed boy has been doing.”
“Ray, maybe you should drink some coffee ‘cause you don’t sound like yourself. Bodie worships the ground you walk on and when Cowley steps down, you’ll be Controller - that’s how much he trusts you.”
Doyle suddenly slumped, seeming to whither from within. In a voice barely above a whisper, Doyle said, “Murph, will you do me a favour and just go home? It’s been a miserable week and I can’t really take any more. By Monday, I’ll have a new partner and Bodie will be a forgotten episode in my law enforcement life. Thanks for caring, but just go.”
Murphy knew that he had met his match in the form of the most stubborn man in the world, so he nodded, taking out his car keys, he headed towards the door, then he whirled around and said, “Oh, by the way, remind me to ask Anson, what the hell he meant when he said that you would never invite my twin brother to a poker game?”
For a moment Doyle looked confused, then a ghost of a grin and the old Doyle appeared for just a second, “Well, since you don’t have a twin brother, he was just trying to tell you that one of you is enough for us.”
Murphy’s blue eyes sparkled as he stuck out his tongue and replied, “I’ll get you for that one, 4.5”, as he slammed the door behind him.
Doyle whirled around and stared at the now messy flat. Those five men could undo all the cleaning that he had done in just seconds. He started picking up more of the carrion of the poker session, working for over a half hour, but soon his exhausted body could do no more, so he let the items in his hands drop to the table and he somehow got to his bedroom, where he flopped on the bed, not even bothering to remove his shoes.
Lying prone as he was, his hearing was somewhat impaired but, in what seemed to be a remarkably short amount of time, he thought his tired brain heard some tapping on his front door. Lifting his head from the bed, he listened for a moment then dragged himself up, wandering towards the front door, expecting to see Colin Murphy, who had a habit of forgetting things.
“Just a minute, just a minute, Murph!”, Doyle yelled as he unlocked the door and swung it open with a power he didn’t really feel. Standing in the doorway, however, wasn’t Colin Murphy, but WAP Bodie. The two men stood staring at each other for several seconds, neither man, knowing what to say.
Finally, Bodie spoke up, with a slight hesitancy, “Well, can I come in?”
Doyle continued to stare at him and then came to full consciousness and blurted out one word, “NO!”, and slammed the door.
PART 4
Doyle continued to stand there, not really understanding what he had done, but he knew why, and hoping that his audacity would be the end of it. It wasn’t. Bodie began to pound on the door and make sounds like a human battering ram. Doyle immediately opened the door and asked, “What do you want?”
“Besides a new shoulder, I want to talk to you.” Bodie had hoped a little levity would help relieve the tension, but that obviously failed, so he just repeated, “I would very much like to talk to you . . . please.”
Bodie’s charm was legendary in the ranks of CI5 and even more with the vast following of ladies who were enamoured of the handsome, blue-eyed man of mystery, but his efforts on this occasion failed miserably. Doyle was like a wall who only retreated a few steps, clearly putting up personal boundaries that Bodie knew not to violate although he did, at least, get inside the door enough that he could close the door behind him.
Doyle stood there bristling like a scrawny bantam rooster that did not take kindly to this invasion of his personal space. Doyle’s words helped convey his attitude towards the man, standing in front of him. “I’m tired, and I really have nothing to say to you. I suppose your Cowley pipe line has conveyed the news, so what is it that you don’t understand about me not wanting you for my partner anymore?”
Bodie’s blue eyes turned even darker as he looked at the spitfire who had so dominated his life for the last eight years. “I want to talk to you; can’t you listen?”
“It didn’t seem to bother you several weeks ago when you walked out without a notice to anybody except . . . Cowley. I think that made it extra clear that you had . . . other loyalties.” This last remark reflected Doyle’s feeling that Bodie’s lack of loyalty had shattered much of the trust that Doyle had shown him unhesitatingly over the years.
“You know the SAS; everything has to be done right away, I had to go and I didn’t have time to let you know.”
“I’m too tired to hear your prepared propaganda. Tomorrow, I’m going to have a new partner, hopefully someone who wants me around and doesn’t criticize every thing I do. My patience is done, Bodie, so say goodnight and leave while you can.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Which part - that you don’t want me around anyway or that I’m going to flatten you if you don’t get the hell out of this flat right now?”
“Okay, okay, I get the message. I don’t have the time right now to talk since my secondment isn’t done until Monday, but this isn’t finished yet, Ray.” Turning around and quickly leaving, Bodie started down the stairs, turning as he went, repeating the words, “This isn’t finished yet; I still want you as my partner.”
Doyle had followed him out to the landing and looked at him with a coldness that rivaled an iceberg, In a voice that sent shivers down Bodie’s back, Doyle said very clearly, “Don’t bet on that, COMRADE!”
Before Bodie could realize what Doyle had implied the skinny man had returned to his flat, leaving Bodie standing there shattered in the horror at what Doyle meant. Two words kept racing through his mind as he raced to his car, parked near Doyle’s flat - - HE KNOWS!
Inside the now quiet flat, Doyle stood shivering in both mind and body and what he had said. His lack of trust had been revealed in those words. Bodie’s handsome face had turned pale and his blue eyes had revealed his comprehension of the depth of Doyle’s knowledge.
Once again, Doyle collapsed on his bed, not even bothering to undress. He laid there for much of the few remaining hours of the night, thinking about the implications of what he had revealed to Bodie. Many years before, Doyle had told Bodie that he knew that Bodie would save him if Preston came after him, now the unspoken thought that Bodie might be the danger, kept wandering around his sleepless mind.
PART 5
Doyle had spent Sunday facing reality. The end result was that he put his house in order. If Bodie had truly become the enemy, Doyle’s future was extremely uncertain, but he still had to go to CI5 tomorrow and meet his new partner. What else could he do?
Monday morning came very early, but Doyle was ready for it. He was a man who always tried to confront the unpleasant as well as the need to go forward. That thinking came with the job: therefore, he was in his small office bright and early, trying to figure out how to work with a new partner, something he hadn’t had to do for eight years.
Suddenly, a body rushed into his office. “Hi, I’m Hal Jameson. I guess you’re my new partner!”
The man looked eager but definitely not what Doyle was expecting. Doyle continued to assess this overeager puppy for several seconds and then asked, “Where’s your gun?”
“Oh, I left that somewhere.”
Leaning back in his chair, Doyle’s green eyes became flames as he leaped up, drawing his gun from under his armpit and putting the gun’s mouth on Jameson’s forehead. The movement was done so quickly that Jameson did not have a chance to react. “How do you know that I’m the man you are to meet? You could be dead within seconds and you lost your gun.” Putting the gun on safety, Doyle removed his gun from its threatening position and returned to his seat.
“Oh, my gun isn’t lost; it’s just that my last partner took it away from me, and I forgot to get it back.”
Doyle closed his eyes to avoid glaring at Jameson but finally found the strength to say, “Just how many partners have you had?”
Jameson sort of grinned and asked, “You mean live ones? That’s just a joke, I’ve had three before you, Mr. Doyle, but I’ve heard that you’re the best so I must be getting better.”
Doyle felt like slumping in despair, but he pulled himself together and said, “All right, go get your gun and meet me at the shooting range in 10 minutes.”
“Right, which way is the shooting range from here?”
Amazingly, Doyle later decided that this conversation was the highlight of the day. Jameson’s accuracy at the range was just a few points above a passing mark. His accuracy under fire was atrocious, and Jameson could not seem to understand why it was essential to be able to fire his weapon WITH ACCURACY, using either hand. If Doyle heard the whinging words, “But I’m right-handed!” once more, he was sure there would have been grievous bodily harm done.
Fortunately, an all-agent call-out occurred as the “partners” were working out on the mats in the gym. Jameson was not the worst new agent on the mats but Doyle hadn’t kept up with the incoming crowd so he couldn’t know that for sure.
The all-agent call out, fortunately was over quickly with a large number of agents dealing with the situation rapidly. Doyle and Jameson had gone out but Doyle was determined to keep the less-than-talented agent from putting any agent in danger, let alone any bad guy.
Unfortunately, near the end of the round up, Jameson THOUGHT he saw a bad guy getting away and chased after him, leaving himself totally exposed. Doyle had been talking to Murphy, who was acting as CI5 commander in the situation, when Jameson took off. Doyle quickly ran after him, but as he turned the corner a bullet whizzed by Doyle’s ear. Hitting the ground hard, Doyle had the breath knocked out of him, but managed to keep the running agent in sight.
Suddenly, the unknown “villain” appeared, holding up his arms in surrender. Jameson didn’t seem to know what to do, except keep his gun on the man. Doyle got up and walked quickly towards the two men. His superior eyesight quickly told him that there was no danger, just another fiasco that would have to be worked out.
“Hello, Ray,” the villain said to the approaching agent.
“Hello, Tom, good to see you, I guess. The guy who chased after you is Hal Jameson, A Squad. Sorry this happened.”
Tom put his arms down and looked at Jameson with a look of disbelief. “I’ll let you handle this, 4.5.” and walked away.
Doyle breathed deeply, held out his hand for Jameson’s gun, put it in safety, and checked the load. Closing his eyes for a moment, Doyle said quietly, “One round has been fired, did you reload after our time at the range?”
“Oh, yes, sir. You told me to.”
“Then you fired the one round missing at me just a minute ago, didn’t you?”
“Yes, sir, but I didn’t mean to . . . I mean I thought I was firing at a bad guy who was following me. Sorry.”
“It’s a good thing you’re such a lousy shot or I’d be dead now. That man who you were chasing is a member of the CI5 B Squad, why were you chasing him?”
“I just saw him running and I didn’t think.”
“Go back to the car and wait for me there. While waiting I want you to prepare a report for Cowley about your activities today.”
“You mean that I’m going to meet Major Cowley; my dad and him are good friends. Are you sure that you want me to write our report, I’m not really very good at spelling? I’m pretty good at painting though.”
Later, at CI5 after the epic report of the Doyle-Jameson team had been delivered, Ray Doyle sat across from George Cowley, both men holding some of Cowley’s single malt but only Cowley drinking. Jameson was nowhere in sight for which both men were extremely grateful.
Doyle sat slightly slumped in his chair as he asked, “Why?” Since Doyle did not call him sir as he usually did, it was quite evident that Doyle’s attitude towards Cowley had changed a great deal. Cowley couldn’t really blame the younger agent.
Cowley did not bother to prevaricate, “I’ve had three agents tell me that he wasn’t good enough, but his father demanded that I turn him over to the best I have and then if he said his son wasn’t cut out to be an agent, that would be it.”
“Well, he’s definitely not ready to be an agent; I don’t think he’s even really trying. My double think tells me that he’s not even a real candidate for being an agent. Was this just an exercise to keep me entertained?”
Cowley had a split second to be embarrassed but he quickly recovered and said, “I don’t want you and Bodie to split up. I’m sure when he returns you two can talk this out.”
Doyle said nothing since he was faintly surprised that Cowley did not seem to know that he and Bodie had already “talked”. Finally, Doyle realized that he would have to say something so he cleared his voice and said with a coldness that surprised even Cowley, “I have no intention of ever working with Bodie again. If that doesn’t meet with your plans, then I will give you my month’s notice now and resign.”
“4.5, Bodie will be returning tomorrow, I’m asking you to talk to him before you make any further decisions. Will you do that?”
“I have a feeling that Bodie will not want to speak to me. You better get him to tell you the truth before you expect us to get together. May I be excused now?”
“You are not a school student in front of your head master now, Doyle, but I have to admit that sometimes you act like it. You may leave, but be sure you are here and on duty tomorrow morning.”
Doyle merely nodded and left Cowley’s office. The older man shook his head and rubbed his nose where his glasses put pressure. He had not talked to Bodie recently, but obviously something had occurred because the breach between the two men seemed to have widened a great deal. Cowley was not sure what the future would bring with regards to his best squad, but Cowley was sure that Bodie had spoken to Doyle and something had occurred, but why hadn’t Bodie informed him about the conversation?
PART 5
When Doyle arrived at CI5 on Tuesday morning, he went straight to the assignment board to check to see who his partner would be. Thankfully the name was not Jameson or even better - Bodie. Breathing a sigh of relief, Doyle headed for his office - the one that he had once shared with Bodie but those days were gone, if he had anything to say about it.
Doyle sat for better than an hour, waiting for his new partner, but no one showed up. In fact, the silence in the halls of CI5 were surprisingly quiet for a normal day, but Doyle’s nerves were so fragile at the moment that he was glad to be able to sit and contemplate what he was going to do with his future.
Finally, he heard the heavy footfall of a certain Irishman coming down the hall. Knowing whose feet that sound belonged to, Doyle pulled out several documents and pretended to be involved in their information. Colin Murphy suddenly made his appearance in the door of the small office. His above average height made the office look even smaller. The look on Murphy’s face announced to Doyle, who knew him so well, that something was wrong and that the next few minutes were not going to be fun and games.
“Well, I finally found you; how come you’re hiding in here, you should have been at the meeting.”
“What meeting?”
“Didn’t you hear the announcement?”
“Nothing came over the speaker, what was it about?”
Murphy hesitated, finally saying, “Bodie’s back.”
Doyle looked down at the desk, whispering very quietly, “Yeah, Cowley told me yesterday that he was returning. He wanted me to talk to him.”
“Well, our boy with the blue eyes and lecherous libido is quite the hero. Even the Minister was there singing his praises.”
Doyle frowned, “What you talkin’ about? He take a bath or something?”
Murphy wasn’t fooled by Doyle’s miserable attempt at trying to show he didn’t care about Bodie. “No, it seems he managed to get a Russian spy exchanged with one of our lads and has earned the gratitude of the Russian government as well as our government.”
Murphy stared steadily at Doyle’s face, trying to read his reaction, but the green eyes and handsome face had had years to get used to its mask, so Murphy wasn’t exactly sure what Doyle was really thinking.
“Did you know that he speaks fluent Russian?”
“Why not, he can’t speak fluent English so he has to have some way to communicate.”
Murphy stared at Bodie’s former partner, suddenly realizing how much Doyle was hurting. Only by criticizing Bodie could Doyle get through the knowledge that he really didn’t know Bodie after all.
“And just who was this spy that Bodie sent home?”
“None other than Boris Kunilov. Apparently Bodie convinced him to trust our blue-eyed boy and then worked undercover to get him back to the motherland.”
Doyle sat there gasping as if he couldn’t get enough air. His beautiful face going stark white, his injured cheek standing out in stark contrast to the rest of his face. He put his face down on the old desk and whispered, “I might have known.”
Sitting up and taking several deep breaths Doyle turned to Murphy and asked, “You haven’t seen my new partner around anywhere, have you?”
“You mean Henderson? Well, he was in the meeting and somehow managed to capture Bodie’s attention after the Minister got done praising Bodie. Don’t know what happened to him after that.”
“Maybe I better go looking for him. If his IQ is the same as Jameson’s, he might be in real trouble.”
Murphy wanted to find out from Doyle if he was going to talk to Bodie, but Doyle was practically out the door before he could say another word.
Doyle headed towards the rest room, figuring that the missing agent might go there looking for Doyle, but 4.5 came to an abrupt stop when he saw a young man talking to Bodie in the middle of the hallway. Murphy slammed into Doyle’s back since he was following the curly-haired agent closely, not seeing Bodie and the stranger in conversation.
The entire corridor went silent as Doyle and Murphy tried to untangle themselves from each other. Neither man noticed the intense observation they had come under especially from William Bodie. To all the impartial observers, it looked very much like lovers unwrapping themselves from an intense embrace. WAP Bodie’s lack of impartiality, however, made his feelings in observation of the same situation akin to a volcano going off in the tight confines of CI5.
Catastrophe would have been the end result except at that moment Henderson had spotted Doyle coming towards him, and he rushed over to Doyle. Standing in front of Doyle, the eager young man identified himself, “I’m Gerald Henderson. Someone told me that you’re Ray Doyle. I was coming to find you after the meeting, but I was told that plans had been changed and that I am not going to be your partner. I’m really sorry because I’ve been told that you are the best, and I am certainly anxious to learn from you.”
A mystified look appeared on Doyle’s face as he hesitantly said, “I . . . I haven’t heard about any change in plans. Where did you hear about this?”
Turning towards Bodie, who was still standing several feet away, staring intently at Doyle, “Why Mr. Bodie told me about the switched assignments. I sure hope that I can work with you later.”
Doyle felt as if all of his breath had been blasted from his body, so he was unable to respond to the young man’s amazing information. Fortunately, Cowley, who had been talking with the Minister, now led the senior official over to where Bodie was being congratulated by many of the agents. Doyle quickly turned away from the piercing blue eyes and turned back to Henderson.
Since I haven’t been informed about any change, maybe we better talk to Major Cowley after he gets done with his present conversation.”
“Okay, but 3.7 - ‘He said I could call him that!’ - told me that it had been all fixed up, and I was to work with Agent Anson for a few weeks.”
Doyle’s spectacular peripheral vision spotted Murphy’s smirk when the taller agent heard that, but Doyle didn’t fall into the trap of making a comment about Anson taking on a new student. “Anson’s not here right now, but I’m sure you two would get along very well, but let’s just make sure. Major Cowley is very much a hands-on leader, and I’m not sure why he would have “3.7” give you that information.”
“Oh, Mr. Bodie told me that he was sort of the Major’s assistant now that he was back from his undercover stint and just wanted to make sure that I got the message.”
“How thoughtful of 3.7!”
Henderson was so bowled over by all that was going on that he didn’t even notice the heavy sarcasm that was dripping from Doyle’s recent comment. Doyle figured that the Minister and Cowley would keep Bodie’s attention for the next several minutes so that he could check with Betty about this “so-called” change in assignments and get it rectified before Bodie could do anything about it. If Doyle could get Henderson to the shooting range or somewhere else, maybe just maybe, Doyle could head off Bodie’s strange machinations. For the last several weeks, Bodie had done his best to alienate Doyle and make it plain that he was not happy being his partner, and now Bodie seemed to be doing everything he could to put a spanner in the works.
Discreetly Doyle and Henderson maneuvered their way out of the hallway and into Cowley’s outer office. It only took seconds to get Betty’s confirmation that 4.5 and Henderson were indeed still partners. With that sigh of relief, Doyle walked briskly down the corridor to the shooting range area several floors below.
For the next two hours, Doyle put Henderson through his paces and more. Both men were dragging from the noise, smell, and tension that existed in the confined space. Doyle had just given themselves a break when he noticed a figure entering the shooting chamber. Doyle’s heart sank as he stared at the obviously furious man. William Bodie’s blue eyes were blazing as he pulled himself to his full height and said, “Running away from me, 4.5?”
“I’m not the one who ran away for several weeks, to be the hero of the hour. I’m just doing my job. By the way, somehow Mr. Assistant-to-Major-Cowley, your information is wrong because I AM still Henderson’s partner. I guess the Controller hasn’t been able to keep you fully up-to-date about all the assignments. I’m sure though that your new partner will keep you up to snuff.”
With those words, Doyle gave Bodie a huge smirk and walked out of the shooting chamber with Henderson, following close behind.
PART 6
Several hours later, Ray Doyle managed to climb the 22 steps to his flat. Over the years, he had climbed many stairs to many different flats. When he was with the Met he had stayed in one flat for almost all of his tenure. Doyle was not hung up on living in fashionable places, especially not when his meager salary could not really afford all the extras that were available, but after he had met George Cowley, changing flats had become a regular routine. Cowley was a fanatic about security and insisted that all of his agents had to vary their living quarters on a regularly so that their lives were not jeopardized by a pattern that some bad guy might use against them. As Doyle’s thoughts on Cowley’s demand for security wandered through his mind, he unconsciously rubbed his chest where a long surgical scar existed. A scar that not only marked him physically but mentally as well. He had been told that his heart had stopped on the table, but it had been his own fault that he was on the table since he had been so careless that day that the young woman, Mayli, had been able to breach his sanctuary and change his life forever.
The memory of the shots were carved on Doyle’s body but also engraved in his mind. He didn’t remember everything since he’d lost consciousness at some point but he did remember Bodie finding him laying in a pool of his own blood. Bodie was always there during his recovery. He tracked down Mayli and carried the dying woman to hospital when her own people rejected her. Bodie was truly a man of many faces but for the last eight years, he had been the face of trust that Doyle counted on, and NOW . . . now that remarkable trust between the copper and the military man had been badly shattered.
Doyle had actually believed that Bodie was working as a Russian agent. The scene that he had seen in a warehouse, he had never revealed to anyone, let alone Cowley had not been what it had seemed. It was not true - - it had been just one episode in Bodie’s efforts to secure the capture of a Russian spy, and yet . . . Doyle had believed it, and had turned against Bodie. On that day, trust between the two partners had died.
Why hadn’t Bodie let him in on the truth? Doyle, like most CI5 agents, had a high security clearance, but Bodie seemed to have preferred Doyle’s hostility and insecurity over Bodie’s actions rather than give him even the minimum of a hint about what was really going on.
Doyle’s trust in Bodie had died when he had seen Bodie with Kornilov but Doyle’s loyalty had somehow still survived until the moment had asked for a new partner. It was at that moment that Doyle was prepared to reveal the basis for demanding such a mind boggling request. He had not wanted to “turn” Bodie in as the traitor he thought him to be.
Even with the weight of his supposed knowledge that Bodie was a traitor, Doyle had not revealed this terrible secret to Cowley. The irony, of course, was that Cowley had known what Bodie was doing the entire time. It was Doyle, who was the problem - - not Bodie.
Doyle was two years away from his 40th birthday. He had always planned his future to be wrapped around some type of work that would keep Bodie in his life, but reality had now set in. Trust had gone out the door. Bodie seemed to think that he could just come back, and they would be partners again, but that wasn’t so. Not anymore. Doyle knew that he had been wrong to not trust Bodie, but likewise, Bodie had failed to trust Doyle, not in his important work with the spy, but with his fear that Doyle’s knowledge would jeopardize his assignment. The depth of Doyle’s despair knew no end as he wandered around the flat which had once seen so much camaraderie between the two partners.
Why did Bodie still want him as a partner? It made no sense; Bodie should hate him for the suspicions that Doyle had held and yet he even gone to the extent of pretending to be Cowley’s Assistant to stop Doyle from getting a new partner?
Cowley had called Bodie and Doyle his Chalk and Cheese, and that had been true for many months, but the years had seen their trust and loyalty grow until Doyle had thought it was rock solid, now he knew differently.
How could he stay on the streets without Bodie? Even more importantly, how could he continue for another two years with Bodie, without discovering how Bodie really felt about him?
PART 7
Colin Murphy was forced to slouch on the worn out sofa that occupied the CI5 agent restroom. His height made it uncomfortable to sit upright so he had learned a special way to slouch that allowed him some comfort. He felt no compunction to find out what a partner wanted since he had spent most of his agent career working solo, thus he could slouch to his heart’s content and not have to accommodate a partner. Only his brief intimate relationship with Doyle had placed some obligations on his carefree bachelor life.
Remembering the slender, delicious body of Raymond Doyle in his arms still had the ability to excite him. The months they had been together had given the two men serenity and fulfilled the need that both men sought, but it was short-lived because of various obstacles as well as the serious problem of William Bodie.
Murphy had identified the problem even though Doyle had always seemed to be blind to it. Many times Murphy had wanted to ask Doyle what he felt for Bodie but never dared. In past months, Bodie had not been around physically but he had definitely still been in Doyle’s mind. Murphy and Doyle had made the decision to end their relationship. No one knew about it, or, at least, Murphy had thought so, now he wasn’t so sure.
Almost as if the thought manufactured itself into reality, William Bodie wandered into the restroom, looking around to see if the room was unoccupied. He had had to wait for awhile to make sure that he would be able to talk to Murphy alone.
The tall, handsome, Irish agent looked up at the blue-eyed ex-merc feeling a slight twinge as he realized that the moment had come to confront the storm that he knew was brewing.
Bodie’s blue eyes stared at Murphy for several seconds then he approached the sofa and leaned over it, trapping Murphy in his slouching position. “I just want to give you a tip, 6.2. I know about you and Doyle, and I’m telling you right now, if you hurt him - - in any way - - you’ll answer to me and it won’t be pretty.”
“Are you addressing me as 3.7 or as the Assistant-to-the-Controller?”
Bodie’s looked faintly embarrassed, but he responded quickly, “I’m telling you as Doyle’s partner.”
“Well, since that’s debatable, I’ll take on 3.7 and tell you it’s none of your business about Doyle and me. I’ll also tell you in plain language that if you ever stick your nose in our business again, I’ll leave you on the floor.”
Surprisingly, a small smile appeared on Bodie’s face. Taking a breath, he replied, “I’m glad that Ray has such a friend. That’s all I wanted to say.”
As Bodie turned around to leave, Murphy decided to take his life into his hands as he stood up. “It’s too bad that you aren’t that type of friend to Ray.”
Bodie whirled around, his blue eyes glaring with rage, his fists threatening to do bodily harm, but something held him back as he forced himself to ask, “Why did you say that?”
“You walked out on Ray without telling him anything. You know how Ray is, he carries the weight of the world on his scrawny shoulders. I know he says he’s lost his trust in you although he hasn’t exactly told me why, but did you ever, even for one second, contemplate the amount of pain he must be carrying since he’s decided he doesn’t want you for his partner anymore?”
Murphy continued, “One of the things that I find most irritating about you, 3.7 is that you take Doyle for granted. His total loyalty has been tied up in you for almost eight years, and you throw it away. I know SAS is important to you, but how many times does Ray have to be shown how little he means to you? He means so little that you can’t even give him a hint about your activities so that he won’t eat his heart out in despair.”
Bodie turned pale as he heard Murphy’s words; his life and his activities had always been centered around himself. He had trained himself not to be sentimental and not to need others; then Doyle had come along and everything changed, but he had still run his life as if he had no attachments and Doyle had suffered for it.
Bodie released his fists, slumping with dismay. He recognized the truth that Murphy had spoken. Quietly he said, “Thanks, Murph,” and walked out the door.
Murphy continued to stand staring at the vacated door, murmuring to the air, “Yeah, I wonder if you know what it cost me?”
PART 8
Murphy’s words had been a revelation to Bodie. He had always known that he was self-centered. His younger life had been one disaster after another. The lesson that WAP Bodie had learned from that was to grow a very thick skin and to be totally uncaring about others. He had lost the girl that Krivas had killed and many others. With each death another layer of toughness had been added and his lack of concern for others had increased exponentially. He had just stopped caring. Somehow, however, Doyle had broken through that barrier.
When Bodie joined CI5, he had every intention of staying for a year or two and then leaving. Leaving . . . that had always been his defense against caring too much. Running away had kept him alive and solved the everyday problem of not needing anyone.
Bodie had been prepared to leave CI5 until one day he noticed that he had already stayed well beyond the time that he usually allotted to any job that he took on. Even his military episodes were carefully regulated to limit becoming too comfortable in one spot. Now he knew that he had stayed too long and there was only one reason why - - Ray Doyle, and yet, he had just done everything he could to drive the gorgeous man from him.
He knew he could have told Ray that he had an important mission for SAS and Doyle would have understood. Or would he, was that part of the problem? Had Bodie just assumed that Doyle would understand and really never taken Doyle’s feelings into consideration? Was Doyle just one more victim of Bodie’s rigid endeavour to maintain an impersonal relationship with whomever he worked with?
Even as Bodie’s mind contemplated that very idea, he knew that Doyle was different - - very different, and that now Bodie had to confront this man who had such an influence on his life.
Normally, Bodie knew where Doyle was all the time; it was necessary to have this knowledge in order to have a life on the streets. Doyle was his lifeline just as Bodie was Doyle’s anchor, but the SAS mission had changed things, certainly to the detriment of the Bodie/Doyle partnership.
Although it was late in the day, Bodie picked up the phone to contact Fred, who guarded the entrance to CI5. “Fred, this is 3.7, has Doyle left the building yet?”
“No, sir, Mr. Bodie, Mr. Doyle is in the gym, I believe.”
“Thanks, Fred.”
Bodie almost left the building because he assumed that Doyle was giving special instruction to Henderson, but he felt compelled to talk to Doyle so instead of walking out, he headed for the gym.
Bodie stopped at the entrance to the gym so that he could watch the slender man go through various routines. He was sweaty; his curls were drooping, and he looked exhausted, but he was the same gorgeous man that Bodie wanted to be with.
Finally, Doyle stopped, grabbed a towel and headed towards the showers. Only then, did Doyle notice Bodie’s figure standing watching. “What do you want?”
“I’d like to talk to you, if it’s okay?”
“Look, Bodie, it’s late and I want to get out of here.”
Bodie could feel the tension, but he was determined to not let this opportunity pass.
“Why have you been avoiding me?”
The look that Doyle gave him said very clearly that that was probably the most stupid question he had ever heard, but he dropped his head, took a deep breath and responded, “What is there to say? I thought you were a Russian traitor; so I asked Cowley for a new partner. Why would you think I would want to be around you?”
“But now you know that isn’t true so why are you still avoiding me?”
“I could say it was because I’ve been busy and haven’t had time to do anything else except work with Henderson . . . but that wouldn’t be the truth. I’m sorry that I doubted you. I always thought my trust in you was absolute, and now I know it isn’t. It really shook me when I saw you with Kornilov.”
“How did you see us together?”
“You ran out on me one night just after we finished the Steele job and it really ticked me off so I followed you. I saw you two together in that old warehouse near that Thai restaurant we used to go to a lot.”
“And you never said anything.”
“You don’t know how many times I started to go to Cowley, but changed my mind.”
“Why? Did you think that they’d hang me for treason?”
“Something like that, I guess, although I know Lord Haw Haw was the last person executed and that was just after the war.”
“Well, I don’t blame you for thinking what you did. Can’t we work this out? I still want you for my partner.”
“Why?”
Bodie was profoundly puzzled by that question. Being confused, he fell back on an easy answer, “Cause you’re the best. On the streets we make a great team, why destroy that?”
“But you don’t trust me, so why would you risk your life on me as your back-up?”
“What makes you think that I don’t trust you.”
“Should be obvious. You didn’t even try to give me a hint about what you were doing, and your actions before you left spoke volumes about how you really felt about me. I know I’m only two years away from being 40 and I’ve slowed down a lot. That’s why I was here tonight, working on my skills. I plan to ask Cowley if I can spend my last two years here, training new agents to be better prepared on the streets. You can find another partner.”
Bodie looked flabbergasted by Doyle’s words. “That’s crazy, I definitely want you as my partner, I would have thought you would have known that.”
“Why?”
“Here we go again. Why do you keep asking that? Why do you think I want you for my partner?”
“Frankly, I have no idea. You made it very plain that I was incapable of doing anything correctly, and that you would be much better off without me.”
“You didn’t believe all that guff I was puttin’ out, did you? I just wanted to keep you out of danger. I was afraid, you might try and find out what I was doing, so that’s why I was so offensive, that’s all.”
“That’s all? Well, I’ll tell you the truth, 3.7. I got your message the first time. I started doubting myself, and that’s why I doubt that we can ever work together again. I honestly don’t understand, why you want anything to do with me. You’ve always told me that you’re a loner and have trained yourself to get along without my help.”
“Well, I’ve been a loner most of my life, but I’ve changed, and I’m sorry if I made you doubt my trust in you.”
“To tell you the truth, Bodie. I don’t know what you expect from me, or for that matter, what you want me for?”
Bodie stood there staring into the gorgeous green eyes, trying to gather up his courage. Finally, he cleared his voice and said, “I want what you had with Murphy.”
“Whatta ya mean by that?”
“I know you were intimate. I knew it even back then but I pretended like I didn’t notice. Can’t we be that way, too?”
Suddenly a shiver engulfed Bodie as he saw the change in Doyle’s green eyes. His reaction certainly wasn’t what he was expecting. He had never seen such a look of disappointment directed at him.
“So, that’s what this is all about?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You think that I hop into bed with all my partners, is that it?”
“No, I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Sure sounded like it to me. Maybe that’s what comes from doubting me. A lack of trust isn’t a very good foundation for an intimate relationship. You just said that I was the best on the street, now ya want to find out how good I am off the street, is that it?”
Bodie was horrified and annoyed that that was Doyle’s opinion of him. He could barely hold back his anger, “You’re just twisting what I was trying to say!”
“Frankly, Bodie, I don’t give a damn if you’re offended by what I said. I feel really bad inside that I judged what you were doing without verifying it, but you thinking that I put out with just anyone, is pretty embarrassing as well as hurtful. I thought you knew me better than that. I think we better just call it quits. You go your way and I’ll go mine.”
With those words, Doyle turned and walked off towards the shower room.
Bodie continued to stand there staring at Doyle’s beautiful behind. Finally, he hunched his shoulders and began to walk out of the gym with an unspoken thought, coming to mind,
**Maybe I should have told him how much I love him**
The End?