(no subject)
Visions of Bodie & Doyle:
'The past is a foreign country': memories lost and found
He could still remember the smell of wet bracken, the stench of oil from the wrecked motorcycles,
the pain in his shoulder and the taste of fear in his mouth as he had realised that he was alone,
with a band of ruthless men about to spring their trap around him.
Enrico Krivas...
It would have been so much simpler if Bodie had killed him....
Cowley still did not know the reasons for the hatred between Krivas and one of his top operatives,
but he did remember Bodie, his clothes torn and his skin bruised and streaked with blood, helping
Doyle drag an unconscious Krivas to the waiting car, and the wolf's- head grin on his battered
face as he said, "Resisted arrest, didn't he?" before flinging him into the rear seat.
He remembered the trial, too, and Krivas' eyes never leaving Bodie's face, eyes black with the
rage and hatred that never clouded his expression or his voice, eyes that promised death.....
Tiger by the Tail:Lilian_Shepherd
"Macklin says you are quite impressive in tumbling routines both on the ground and on the
fixed trapeze."
"Surely that doesn't surprise you?"
Cowley drew a noncommittal face. "Perhaps it does. After all, it has been ten years since
you worked with the circus.....Have you heard of Circus Sergei?"
"No."
"We have reason to believe that it is being used as a way station for IRA armaments and
explosives."
"Donal O'Shea......"
"That's right. And although I would prefer not to send you into an operation that might
involve him, I don't have another agent who has your abilities."
"And which abilities," Doyle drawled inquiringly, "might those be?"
"Aerial and equestrian......"
Harlequin Airs:Ellis Ward
Bodie.
FuckinghellJesusfuckingChristnohe'sdead
fuckinghellhe'sdeadnonono!
Bodie.
Alive?
"No!" Thought came to an abrupt halt, his mind ceasing all operation as his entire world
stopped dead.
But... it had to be a mistake.
It had to be.
Had to be
Bodie?
His tortured lungs screamed for mercy and he heaved in an almighty breath. For long seconds,
his heartbeat raced dangerously as his eyes stared at nothing at all.
Willis had lied.......
The Tangled Web:Jack Reuben Darcey
Cowley leant forward so that his face was finally in the light.
"Aye, that's it. Don't worry yourself about the warehouse. That all happened a while ago."
"Yeah? How long?"
"About four years ago."
Doyle gave a derisive snort. "I suppose you'll be telling me you didn't suspend me either."
"Not recently - despite the temptation. Not since your involvement with Miss Holly in fact."
"Then what - ? Am I cracking up?" Doyle felt no more than an academic interest.
"No. Just living in the past. You've a high-grade fever. You've been delirious. Memories are
notoriously unreliable at such times...."
"Rambling and all?"
"Rambling and all," confirmed Cowley, his voice rich with reassurance.
Doyle thought about it......"Well I'm buggered. I thought I felt odd...."
Knife-Edge:hgdoghouse
Bodie always knew Doyle was a wizard when it came to memory.
He could remember license plates and badge numbers with nothing more than a glance.
Remembered them for at least a month afterwards, too, as Bodie had found out the time he
asked Ray to look up the plates of that red convertible again.....Doyle had rattled off
the numbers, and Bodie stared at him..... Yes, when it came to numbers, Doyle had an
excellent memory. Bodie had........wanted to test just how far Doyle’s memory went. He
had a key to his partner’s place, and it was no trouble to sneak in one day....
Tests:Hutchynstarsk
He walked into the bedroom and picked up the receiver, barking in a brisk “Hello?” waiting
for the caller to identify themselves....
“Hello,” a male voice answered - a posh, businesslike tone. “I’m sorry to be the bearer
of bad tidings, Mr Bodie...”
“I’m not...” Ray began, but not quickly enough, his reactions slowed as his mind tried to
focus.
“I’m one of the doctors at the James Cook Hospital in Teeside” the man continued,
steam-rollering over the objection, “where I’m sorry to say your wife has just died.”
Ray, holding the phone tightly to his ear, was aware of making the occasional vague
assertive noise, probably indistinguishable from those of stunned grief, as he tried
to make sense of what he was hearing. Words were coming through the phone, words that
did not make sense...
Bodie’s wife? This Week It Rained:Halotolerant
"Funny times, those, in Africa," said Bodie thoughtfully. "The day of the white imperialist
was over but there were men like Krivas, power- hungry, getting and keeping power over people,
not territories...He was like a little dictator of his band, hand-picked men. They were good.
They were very good...Tough men. All owned by Krivas. As I was."
"Owned?"
"Oh, Christ, yes. Contracted. He had absolute power over all of us. Disobedience, however
slight, was punished with an iron hand. He wasn't a sadist, but he was a hard man. Did what
he had to, to keep his authority over us."
Doyle tried to imagine Bodie putting up with this sort of thing. He couldn't. Bodie was as
independent a soul as any he'd met. "How'd you cope?" He asked.......
"I thrived on it, Doyle. I chose it. I wanted it. Hell, this was Krivas."
Krivas:Elizabeth Holden Roses and Lavender 1
Someone had set up one of the ancient projectors, and dug out rolls of their old training
films.......London, some time in the late seventies he thought, if those trousers were
anything to go by - Christ, had he really worn flares that wide? Vague memories flooded
through him, sights and sounds and even smells. Cowley'd blocked off two whole streets
around some buildings that had been scheduled for demolition, had sent them off to stage
an Operation Digger - a gang of ten or a dozen somewhere under street level.....
"Watch out!" someone shouted at the screen, and the room burst into laughter, the unlucky
sod - was it Kevin from Tactical? - pushed and shoved good-naturedly to and fro. From the
corner of his eye Doyle saw what was happening on the film though, and his heart quickened
in memory, in anticipation, in... *something*. Bodie was there, looking incredibly young,
Bodie the way Doyle still saw him......Who Caught and Sang the Sun:Slantedlight
He was deep into the pros and cons of the situation when he heard a voice call out, "Ray! Ray
Doyle!" He turned to see a short man with shorter hair rapidly approaching. There was a grin on
the face, so Doyle relaxed and waited. "What you doing here, old son?"
"Seeing the sights," Doyle responded....He looked at the man carefully, and the stranger's brown
eyes confirmed their harmlessness.
"Haven't seen you in years. Not since the Met. You went to CI5, didn't you?"
"Yeah."
"Still there?"
"Leave-of absence," explained Doyle.
"Lucky dog. You don't look ill?" the man gently probed, seemingly unaware of the other's
restrained manner....
"Healing," was how Doyle answered. If the man knew of CI5, he'd know the risk of asking
questions which oughtn't be.
Forgetting Doyle:Natasha Barry
Seven years! Seven long years, and finally the first real lead that he'd had. He looked again
at the grainy black and white newspaper photo. Was it him? Could it be? It had to be! It wasn't
full-face, but even at an angle and with the hair so different...still some things don't change
and some flaws stand out for anyone looking to see. His mind argued that it could just be a shadow
but he knew that he had to see for himself. Good or bad he had to know for sure.
Alone in the Wilderness:Elessar
"Didn't mean to go and get kidnapped...Just wish I could remember what the hell happened, so I
don't make the same mistake again."
At those words, Bodie felt an ice-cold chill form in his gut. He didn't remember... "You don't
know how you got captured?"
"No." Doyle slowly shook his head. "Don't remember anything...there's this big blank spot...last
thing I recall, we'd just finished up the Stanton op, and you and me walked out of HQ heading for
your car. That's it. Everything else from that evening is gone......"
Oh, Christ....Bodie closed his eyes for a moment, wishing this could all go away, wishing they
could go back in time and start over. He didn't remember that night. Doyle didn't remember about
the kiss--fucking hell. The last thing he wanted was to jog Doyle's memory for him....
Bodie took a deep breath and said carefully, "Well, we went to the Scarsdale Arms and had a
pint....."
"Doesn't ring any bells," Doyle said.
If Memory Serves:Alexandra
He'd been in this position before, of course: waiting to find out if Bodie was living or dead. But
this time he couldn't help thinking about another summer night, another heat wave, another partner.
Syd Parker had died on a night like this, shot down by a villain as PC Ray Doyle had waited downstairs..
Even all these years later, he could still remember hearing the first
gunshot, could remember running up the stairs, truncheon clutched uselessly in his hand,
heart pounding in his chest. He could remember bursting through that door and finding Syd's
body, and Fitch's, in the flat. Could remember how gutted he'd felt, even as his training had
taken over and he'd pursued Bill Haydon to his home.
Syd's death had hurt Doyle, hurt him badly, but how much more would Bodie's death wound him?
Syd had been a good partner, a mentor, a friend, but Bodie was everything to him: partner and
friend; protector and responsibility. Lover.
The Sweat of His Brow:PR Zed
"Bodie, Doyle loves you."
"I know, but he loves her, too."
"That was in the past. Finished....."
"Like you finished with Annie Irvin?"
Cowley looked at him for a long moment, then nodded, conceding the point. "But that is different,
lad...It took seeing her again, and even then it took quite awhile for me to understand, but it
wasn't merely the woman I loved -- it was the times."
"The times?"
"Aye. I've devoted my life to serving my country, Bodie, and I have few regrets about that, but
it also has made my years at university very precious.......The Annie Irvin that I loved was a
time and a place as much as a woman. I cannot help but love that memory for the rest of my days,
but the woman alone is not someone who I would want in my life now."
Faces from the Past:Annehiggins
"What the hell are you on about?"
Christ. It had simply never occurred to Doyle that Bodie might genuinely not remember what
had happened. That he wasn't pretending...
"Had a bit of a snog. You really don't remember?"
Bodie's eyes widened. "You kissed me? Have you gone bloody bent on me?"
Nonchalance flew out the window. "Wasn't one-sided, mate! You kissed me back!"
"The hell I did."
Doyle gave him a long, hard look. "I wouldn't have wanted to talk about it if it had been
one-sided."
Bodie stared back, features set, unreadable......"Was drunk, wasn't I? Must've been confused,
thought you were a bird."
"No." Doyle refused to let it go. "You said my name....."
On a Hot Summer Night:Alexandra
...try as he might...he could not forget the night he had spent making love to Doyle.
If you could call it that. More a night of crazed, delirious lust than love, fucking each
other's brains out....
He couldn't quite remember how it began, he would have sworn he was too drunk to even get it
up, much less...
Wrong again, sunshine.
Even now his memory was a bit spotty. He just remembered the violent intensity of it.
Doyle had grinned rather sheepishly at him in the morning, bleary-eyed and hungover. Bodie
grinned back, acknowledging the absurdity, and their eyes locked in a silent pact never to
speak of the incident.
Life went on as before.
But Bodie kept thinking about it.......
Sanctuary:Thomas
“OK, sir, you’ve done well to hold out this long but let’s hit the nail on the head shall we?”
Doyle tried to look blank.
“You’ve no idea who you are, have you?”
Doyle sighed. The man was right. He couldn’t get away with it forever. He just shrugged apologetically.
“There’ll be something in my pocket won’t there?” Doyle suggested hopefully.
“Unfortunately, when you were found, you’d been robbed. Not only your pocket contents
but the thief or thieves also took your jacket and shoes. We’ve been treating you for
mild hypothermia as well as a hairline skull fracture.”
“How long have I been here?”
“Nearly a week now.”
Doyle was shocked. He’d only been awake and taking notice for a couple of days. “And
you still don’t know who I am?” The doctor started to shake his head apologetically
when Doyle continued, “So there hasn’t been an army of concerned friends and relatives
hammering on your door or pestering the police about a missing person, then?” It
certainly didn’t make Doyle feel good about himself. Borderland:Sylvie Orp
He did feel marginally better, though. He found he could sit up, make it to the bath, and
splash water over his face. He saw the blood crusted on his forehead and wondered vaguely
what had happened. The headache was at least bearable now, not as painful as his side at
least. Although he couldn't remember his head hurting quite this badly --
He stopped abruptly......
What was the thought he'd just had? He couldn't remember a headache this bad ...
He couldn't remember a ... Christ, he couldn't remember.
Shaking, he leaned against the wash basin, panic inching in.
Couldn't remember. Couldn't remember.....
Forget That I Remember, and Dream That I Forget:Pamela Rose
The men fell silent. Foster. Williams. Ram…Ramsey. They were just names. He couldn't put
faces to them. He had no feelings about them. He tried to think back to the warehouse but
his mind skittered away, out of control. It was presenting him with images he couldn't
interpret. He was breathing too fast. It wasn't safe to panic-had to slow it down.
Stay cool. There was a sudden voice in his head-an echo he couldn't identify. Yet it
helped. Calm down. Think. Go back. He was…. He was…. Oh, Christ. He didn't know his
own name. He - Ray? He clamped his mouth shut...The driver, Williams, had called
him Ray. Ray. He was Ray. He was in...London. He knew that. He was…was…. Everything
else was a blank. Fuck, fuck. Oh, God. Stay cool. He took in a deep breath......
He opened his mouth to ask them-maybe they'd help- But then he swallowed his words,
and stared ahead...Maybe he had known these men, but he didn't remember them. He
couldn't trust them. Lines:PFL
“Wasn’t expecting that,” Bodie said....
“She was called Mary,” Ray said quietly.....“His wife died of pneumonia when he
was in Spain in the Thirties, Mary went to his parents but died too before he got
back. He never saw her.”
Bodie took the photograph, the thin woman and the baby in black and white, staring
out at posterity without any evident expectation. “I didn’t know.” His voice had
lowered, his posture loosened. His lips still looked like they always had, dejected
even when he was happy......
“Didn’t know Cowley well at all. But he left me all this stuff, personal stuff, I
don’t...I don’t understand.” Unexpected:Halotolerant
*Him*, *him*, *him*, his heart sang, and pounded against his chest.
Doyle.
He’d found him, this was where he lived. Bodie’s heart lurched at the thought.....
God, it was Doyle.
He didn’t look any different, at least not from this distance...Perhaps it would show
in his face, in his eyes, but his walk was just as strong, just as easy as ever. His
shoulders too - he’d always had that way of moving as though everything was connected
in just the right way, each muscle, each tendon flowing smoothly, in perfect time, with
the next. As though everyone else had just been practicing the way to move, but he,
Raymond Doyle, was the one who’d got it right.
These Layers of Charnel Air:Slantedlight
“You think I kissed you because Ann threw me over?”
*I kissed you.*
Until that moment he’d forgotten about the kiss. Blanked it out completely. Total amnesia
like in a bad spy film. And how could that be because that kiss -- for one instant --
had rocked his world. That press of Doyle’s mouth on his, Doyle’s mouth cool and soft and
tasting of lager and something intimately and intrinsically Doyle.
Not shy exactly....but tentative. Hopeful maybe? But trusting too. Doyle confident he
wasn’t going to be handed his teeth back like so many marbles in a game he’d lost. Because
of course Doyle knew -- knew his kisses would -- should -- be welcome here.
But Bodie inexplicably, after the first delighted shock of response, had astonished them
both by rejecting Doyle.
The Wish I Wish Tonight:JGL
The room had only a single occupant who must obviously be Doyle. The man was standing by
an open window......A light breeze carried in the sounds of the street below and from his
viewpoint in the doorway all that Bodie could see was a slim figure in well-worn jeans
with a head of brown curls. The bright Spring sunshine reflected on gently blowing curls
and Bodie caught his breath as an image from another lifetime washed through him.
*...a chestnut halo...the face of an angel...*
All at once he was transported back as memories crowded his mind. He could feel the heat
of the African night, hear the sounds of the chirruping insects in the bush and taste the
warm, wet tongue of the man who had, for a few short hours, made him feel complete.....
Bodie whispered, "Ray?"
The man at the window swung around.....
The Missing Piece:Cassidy Collins
'The past is a foreign country': memories lost and found
He could still remember the smell of wet bracken, the stench of oil from the wrecked motorcycles,
the pain in his shoulder and the taste of fear in his mouth as he had realised that he was alone,
with a band of ruthless men about to spring their trap around him.
Enrico Krivas...
It would have been so much simpler if Bodie had killed him....
Cowley still did not know the reasons for the hatred between Krivas and one of his top operatives,
but he did remember Bodie, his clothes torn and his skin bruised and streaked with blood, helping
Doyle drag an unconscious Krivas to the waiting car, and the wolf's- head grin on his battered
face as he said, "Resisted arrest, didn't he?" before flinging him into the rear seat.
He remembered the trial, too, and Krivas' eyes never leaving Bodie's face, eyes black with the
rage and hatred that never clouded his expression or his voice, eyes that promised death.....
Tiger by the Tail:Lilian_Shepherd
"Macklin says you are quite impressive in tumbling routines both on the ground and on the
fixed trapeze."
"Surely that doesn't surprise you?"
Cowley drew a noncommittal face. "Perhaps it does. After all, it has been ten years since
you worked with the circus.....Have you heard of Circus Sergei?"
"No."
"We have reason to believe that it is being used as a way station for IRA armaments and
explosives."
"Donal O'Shea......"
"That's right. And although I would prefer not to send you into an operation that might
involve him, I don't have another agent who has your abilities."
"And which abilities," Doyle drawled inquiringly, "might those be?"
"Aerial and equestrian......"
Harlequin Airs:Ellis Ward
Bodie.
FuckinghellJesusfuckingChristnohe'sdead
fuckinghellhe'sdeadnonono!
Bodie.
Alive?
"No!" Thought came to an abrupt halt, his mind ceasing all operation as his entire world
stopped dead.
But... it had to be a mistake.
It had to be.
Had to be
Bodie?
His tortured lungs screamed for mercy and he heaved in an almighty breath. For long seconds,
his heartbeat raced dangerously as his eyes stared at nothing at all.
Willis had lied.......
The Tangled Web:Jack Reuben Darcey
Cowley leant forward so that his face was finally in the light.
"Aye, that's it. Don't worry yourself about the warehouse. That all happened a while ago."
"Yeah? How long?"
"About four years ago."
Doyle gave a derisive snort. "I suppose you'll be telling me you didn't suspend me either."
"Not recently - despite the temptation. Not since your involvement with Miss Holly in fact."
"Then what - ? Am I cracking up?" Doyle felt no more than an academic interest.
"No. Just living in the past. You've a high-grade fever. You've been delirious. Memories are
notoriously unreliable at such times...."
"Rambling and all?"
"Rambling and all," confirmed Cowley, his voice rich with reassurance.
Doyle thought about it......"Well I'm buggered. I thought I felt odd...."
Knife-Edge:hgdoghouse
Bodie always knew Doyle was a wizard when it came to memory.
He could remember license plates and badge numbers with nothing more than a glance.
Remembered them for at least a month afterwards, too, as Bodie had found out the time he
asked Ray to look up the plates of that red convertible again.....Doyle had rattled off
the numbers, and Bodie stared at him..... Yes, when it came to numbers, Doyle had an
excellent memory. Bodie had........wanted to test just how far Doyle’s memory went. He
had a key to his partner’s place, and it was no trouble to sneak in one day....
Tests:Hutchynstarsk
He walked into the bedroom and picked up the receiver, barking in a brisk “Hello?” waiting
for the caller to identify themselves....
“Hello,” a male voice answered - a posh, businesslike tone. “I’m sorry to be the bearer
of bad tidings, Mr Bodie...”
“I’m not...” Ray began, but not quickly enough, his reactions slowed as his mind tried to
focus.
“I’m one of the doctors at the James Cook Hospital in Teeside” the man continued,
steam-rollering over the objection, “where I’m sorry to say your wife has just died.”
Ray, holding the phone tightly to his ear, was aware of making the occasional vague
assertive noise, probably indistinguishable from those of stunned grief, as he tried
to make sense of what he was hearing. Words were coming through the phone, words that
did not make sense...
Bodie’s wife? This Week It Rained:Halotolerant
"Funny times, those, in Africa," said Bodie thoughtfully. "The day of the white imperialist
was over but there were men like Krivas, power- hungry, getting and keeping power over people,
not territories...He was like a little dictator of his band, hand-picked men. They were good.
They were very good...Tough men. All owned by Krivas. As I was."
"Owned?"
"Oh, Christ, yes. Contracted. He had absolute power over all of us. Disobedience, however
slight, was punished with an iron hand. He wasn't a sadist, but he was a hard man. Did what
he had to, to keep his authority over us."
Doyle tried to imagine Bodie putting up with this sort of thing. He couldn't. Bodie was as
independent a soul as any he'd met. "How'd you cope?" He asked.......
"I thrived on it, Doyle. I chose it. I wanted it. Hell, this was Krivas."
Krivas:Elizabeth Holden Roses and Lavender 1
Someone had set up one of the ancient projectors, and dug out rolls of their old training
films.......London, some time in the late seventies he thought, if those trousers were
anything to go by - Christ, had he really worn flares that wide? Vague memories flooded
through him, sights and sounds and even smells. Cowley'd blocked off two whole streets
around some buildings that had been scheduled for demolition, had sent them off to stage
an Operation Digger - a gang of ten or a dozen somewhere under street level.....
"Watch out!" someone shouted at the screen, and the room burst into laughter, the unlucky
sod - was it Kevin from Tactical? - pushed and shoved good-naturedly to and fro. From the
corner of his eye Doyle saw what was happening on the film though, and his heart quickened
in memory, in anticipation, in... *something*. Bodie was there, looking incredibly young,
Bodie the way Doyle still saw him......Who Caught and Sang the Sun:Slantedlight
He was deep into the pros and cons of the situation when he heard a voice call out, "Ray! Ray
Doyle!" He turned to see a short man with shorter hair rapidly approaching. There was a grin on
the face, so Doyle relaxed and waited. "What you doing here, old son?"
"Seeing the sights," Doyle responded....He looked at the man carefully, and the stranger's brown
eyes confirmed their harmlessness.
"Haven't seen you in years. Not since the Met. You went to CI5, didn't you?"
"Yeah."
"Still there?"
"Leave-of absence," explained Doyle.
"Lucky dog. You don't look ill?" the man gently probed, seemingly unaware of the other's
restrained manner....
"Healing," was how Doyle answered. If the man knew of CI5, he'd know the risk of asking
questions which oughtn't be.
Forgetting Doyle:Natasha Barry
Seven years! Seven long years, and finally the first real lead that he'd had. He looked again
at the grainy black and white newspaper photo. Was it him? Could it be? It had to be! It wasn't
full-face, but even at an angle and with the hair so different...still some things don't change
and some flaws stand out for anyone looking to see. His mind argued that it could just be a shadow
but he knew that he had to see for himself. Good or bad he had to know for sure.
Alone in the Wilderness:Elessar
"Didn't mean to go and get kidnapped...Just wish I could remember what the hell happened, so I
don't make the same mistake again."
At those words, Bodie felt an ice-cold chill form in his gut. He didn't remember... "You don't
know how you got captured?"
"No." Doyle slowly shook his head. "Don't remember anything...there's this big blank spot...last
thing I recall, we'd just finished up the Stanton op, and you and me walked out of HQ heading for
your car. That's it. Everything else from that evening is gone......"
Oh, Christ....Bodie closed his eyes for a moment, wishing this could all go away, wishing they
could go back in time and start over. He didn't remember that night. Doyle didn't remember about
the kiss--fucking hell. The last thing he wanted was to jog Doyle's memory for him....
Bodie took a deep breath and said carefully, "Well, we went to the Scarsdale Arms and had a
pint....."
"Doesn't ring any bells," Doyle said.
If Memory Serves:Alexandra
He'd been in this position before, of course: waiting to find out if Bodie was living or dead. But
this time he couldn't help thinking about another summer night, another heat wave, another partner.
Syd Parker had died on a night like this, shot down by a villain as PC Ray Doyle had waited downstairs..
Even all these years later, he could still remember hearing the first
gunshot, could remember running up the stairs, truncheon clutched uselessly in his hand,
heart pounding in his chest. He could remember bursting through that door and finding Syd's
body, and Fitch's, in the flat. Could remember how gutted he'd felt, even as his training had
taken over and he'd pursued Bill Haydon to his home.
Syd's death had hurt Doyle, hurt him badly, but how much more would Bodie's death wound him?
Syd had been a good partner, a mentor, a friend, but Bodie was everything to him: partner and
friend; protector and responsibility. Lover.
The Sweat of His Brow:PR Zed
"Bodie, Doyle loves you."
"I know, but he loves her, too."
"That was in the past. Finished....."
"Like you finished with Annie Irvin?"
Cowley looked at him for a long moment, then nodded, conceding the point. "But that is different,
lad...It took seeing her again, and even then it took quite awhile for me to understand, but it
wasn't merely the woman I loved -- it was the times."
"The times?"
"Aye. I've devoted my life to serving my country, Bodie, and I have few regrets about that, but
it also has made my years at university very precious.......The Annie Irvin that I loved was a
time and a place as much as a woman. I cannot help but love that memory for the rest of my days,
but the woman alone is not someone who I would want in my life now."
Faces from the Past:Annehiggins
"What the hell are you on about?"
Christ. It had simply never occurred to Doyle that Bodie might genuinely not remember what
had happened. That he wasn't pretending...
"Had a bit of a snog. You really don't remember?"
Bodie's eyes widened. "You kissed me? Have you gone bloody bent on me?"
Nonchalance flew out the window. "Wasn't one-sided, mate! You kissed me back!"
"The hell I did."
Doyle gave him a long, hard look. "I wouldn't have wanted to talk about it if it had been
one-sided."
Bodie stared back, features set, unreadable......"Was drunk, wasn't I? Must've been confused,
thought you were a bird."
"No." Doyle refused to let it go. "You said my name....."
On a Hot Summer Night:Alexandra
...try as he might...he could not forget the night he had spent making love to Doyle.
If you could call it that. More a night of crazed, delirious lust than love, fucking each
other's brains out....
He couldn't quite remember how it began, he would have sworn he was too drunk to even get it
up, much less...
Wrong again, sunshine.
Even now his memory was a bit spotty. He just remembered the violent intensity of it.
Doyle had grinned rather sheepishly at him in the morning, bleary-eyed and hungover. Bodie
grinned back, acknowledging the absurdity, and their eyes locked in a silent pact never to
speak of the incident.
Life went on as before.
But Bodie kept thinking about it.......
Sanctuary:Thomas
“OK, sir, you’ve done well to hold out this long but let’s hit the nail on the head shall we?”
Doyle tried to look blank.
“You’ve no idea who you are, have you?”
Doyle sighed. The man was right. He couldn’t get away with it forever. He just shrugged apologetically.
“There’ll be something in my pocket won’t there?” Doyle suggested hopefully.
“Unfortunately, when you were found, you’d been robbed. Not only your pocket contents
but the thief or thieves also took your jacket and shoes. We’ve been treating you for
mild hypothermia as well as a hairline skull fracture.”
“How long have I been here?”
“Nearly a week now.”
Doyle was shocked. He’d only been awake and taking notice for a couple of days. “And
you still don’t know who I am?” The doctor started to shake his head apologetically
when Doyle continued, “So there hasn’t been an army of concerned friends and relatives
hammering on your door or pestering the police about a missing person, then?” It
certainly didn’t make Doyle feel good about himself. Borderland:Sylvie Orp
He did feel marginally better, though. He found he could sit up, make it to the bath, and
splash water over his face. He saw the blood crusted on his forehead and wondered vaguely
what had happened. The headache was at least bearable now, not as painful as his side at
least. Although he couldn't remember his head hurting quite this badly --
He stopped abruptly......
What was the thought he'd just had? He couldn't remember a headache this bad ...
He couldn't remember a ... Christ, he couldn't remember.
Shaking, he leaned against the wash basin, panic inching in.
Couldn't remember. Couldn't remember.....
Forget That I Remember, and Dream That I Forget:Pamela Rose
The men fell silent. Foster. Williams. Ram…Ramsey. They were just names. He couldn't put
faces to them. He had no feelings about them. He tried to think back to the warehouse but
his mind skittered away, out of control. It was presenting him with images he couldn't
interpret. He was breathing too fast. It wasn't safe to panic-had to slow it down.
Stay cool. There was a sudden voice in his head-an echo he couldn't identify. Yet it
helped. Calm down. Think. Go back. He was…. He was…. Oh, Christ. He didn't know his
own name. He - Ray? He clamped his mouth shut...The driver, Williams, had called
him Ray. Ray. He was Ray. He was in...London. He knew that. He was…was…. Everything
else was a blank. Fuck, fuck. Oh, God. Stay cool. He took in a deep breath......
He opened his mouth to ask them-maybe they'd help- But then he swallowed his words,
and stared ahead...Maybe he had known these men, but he didn't remember them. He
couldn't trust them. Lines:PFL
“Wasn’t expecting that,” Bodie said....
“She was called Mary,” Ray said quietly.....“His wife died of pneumonia when he
was in Spain in the Thirties, Mary went to his parents but died too before he got
back. He never saw her.”
Bodie took the photograph, the thin woman and the baby in black and white, staring
out at posterity without any evident expectation. “I didn’t know.” His voice had
lowered, his posture loosened. His lips still looked like they always had, dejected
even when he was happy......
“Didn’t know Cowley well at all. But he left me all this stuff, personal stuff, I
don’t...I don’t understand.” Unexpected:Halotolerant
*Him*, *him*, *him*, his heart sang, and pounded against his chest.
Doyle.
He’d found him, this was where he lived. Bodie’s heart lurched at the thought.....
God, it was Doyle.
He didn’t look any different, at least not from this distance...Perhaps it would show
in his face, in his eyes, but his walk was just as strong, just as easy as ever. His
shoulders too - he’d always had that way of moving as though everything was connected
in just the right way, each muscle, each tendon flowing smoothly, in perfect time, with
the next. As though everyone else had just been practicing the way to move, but he,
Raymond Doyle, was the one who’d got it right.
These Layers of Charnel Air:Slantedlight
“You think I kissed you because Ann threw me over?”
*I kissed you.*
Until that moment he’d forgotten about the kiss. Blanked it out completely. Total amnesia
like in a bad spy film. And how could that be because that kiss -- for one instant --
had rocked his world. That press of Doyle’s mouth on his, Doyle’s mouth cool and soft and
tasting of lager and something intimately and intrinsically Doyle.
Not shy exactly....but tentative. Hopeful maybe? But trusting too. Doyle confident he
wasn’t going to be handed his teeth back like so many marbles in a game he’d lost. Because
of course Doyle knew -- knew his kisses would -- should -- be welcome here.
But Bodie inexplicably, after the first delighted shock of response, had astonished them
both by rejecting Doyle.
The Wish I Wish Tonight:JGL
The room had only a single occupant who must obviously be Doyle. The man was standing by
an open window......A light breeze carried in the sounds of the street below and from his
viewpoint in the doorway all that Bodie could see was a slim figure in well-worn jeans
with a head of brown curls. The bright Spring sunshine reflected on gently blowing curls
and Bodie caught his breath as an image from another lifetime washed through him.
*...a chestnut halo...the face of an angel...*
All at once he was transported back as memories crowded his mind. He could feel the heat
of the African night, hear the sounds of the chirruping insects in the bush and taste the
warm, wet tongue of the man who had, for a few short hours, made him feel complete.....
Bodie whispered, "Ray?"
The man at the window swung around.....
The Missing Piece:Cassidy Collins