Discovered in a Snow Globe - A snow globe
Posted on Discovered in a LJ for 2022's Discovered in a Snow Globe.
Discovered in a Snow Globe - A snowglobe
They were undercover again, although not the way that he wanted to be, Bodie thought, as he kept a poker face and moved under the direction of the photographer. He wanted to be under the covers, not undercover, but at least his partner was the same in both instances. That thought lightened his mood, but only for the moment it took for him to be recalled to their situation.
He followed the photographer’s directions, helping to herd the subjects to the right position, getting smiles from the children with his antics and from the females of all ages with his charm. Light positioning, film changeovers and general dogsbody, kept him busy as photographer’s assistant - not something he would ever consider taking on as a career.
Ray on the other hand, was in his element. His artistic streak was given full and free rein as the photographer and Bodie was sure his enjoyment was enhanced by Bodie’s lack of. He hid the grimace that thought engendered, not wanting to give any indication to said partner that he was anything other than professional and on top of the situation they found themselves in.
Another one of Cowley’s many favours had led them to be here.
The up and coming, in mode, photographer Graeme St John, had been engaged by a local charity, to take custom family Christmas photos for the rich and famous, in their own homes. St John was donating half his fee to the charity’s coffers and was booked out weeks in advance. And for some reason, someone had it for Graeme St John. The rest of CI5 was tracing the who and the why, after the threats and near misses had been brought to the attention of Cowley by St John’s father - an old colleague of the chief of CI5 from his MI5 days.
Cowley, never one to look a gift favour in the mouth, sent in his top team undercover. It didn’t hurt that Doyle and St John had a passing resemblance, so here they were.
The photo shoot wound up and the family finally let them go - thrilled and excited with anticipation about seeing what St John had done with their family and the Christmas theme.
Well, they let “St John” go. Bodie had been mostly ignored throughout the session and was only barely acknowledged as he returned after packing up and storing the last of the equipment in their vehicle outside. Although this was part of the job, it was also a chance for him to reconnoitre and as he returned to collect his “boss”, for all his casualness, Doyle noted that he was at high alert.
“Everything OK?” Doyle whispered as headed towards the door of the voluminous library, with Bodie’s hand in the small of his back, surreptitiously guiding his direction, whilst also providing a much needed connection between them.
“Don’t know”, Bodie said with worry highlighting each syllable. “Something’s off” and even as he said it, the sound of a shot echoed through the large room, almost lost in the sound of shattering glass, and Ray was falling away from his side.
Bodie dropped to the ground, trying to get his bearings, as his RT broke into a thousand voices and the screams of the family blended into a cacophony of sound that confused and disoriented him. But his beacon, his centre brought everything back into focus. “Ray!”, he managed to croak out as he scrambled about, checking for threats, whilst looking to see what had happened to his partner.
Ray had fallen behind a Chesterfield and all Bodie could see was his legs and they weren’t moving. “Ray” he screamed above the surrounding noise as he scrambled along the floor to get to him. He slid around the Chesterfield, keeping low, just in time to hear his partner grunt and roll over onto his back. “My head” he groaned, putting his hand to a long, bloody wound that ran from his left temple to just above his ear. He tried to sit up, but Bodie held him down, his relief at finding his partner “not dead” as he had feared, making his grip painful. The additional wince on his partner’s face, loosened his hold, but Bodie wasn’t letting go - not now, maybe not ever…….
‘Stay put’ he ordered fiercely, his relief overwhelming. His partner recognising the emotions and their cause, did as he was told and lay quietly, whilst Bodie got an update on the RT. “They got him,” he said with relief, which Doyle had heard for himself, but with Bodie on the edge, he wasn’t going to comment on.
Bodie recognised this restraint quickly and looked at his partner more carefully. He whipped out his pristine handkerchief (weren’t they always) and used it to replace his partner’s hands on the wound. The material against it caused Doyle to hiss in pain. “Don’t worry sunshine” Bodie reassured whilst maintaining the pressure, “we will get you sorted in no time.”
Doyle pushed again to sit up and together they manoeuvred him so that his back was to the Chesterfield, whilst Bodie maintained the pressure on the wound. They waited quietly, just existing in the moment, eyes speaking so much more than words, until a medic appeared. Bodie scooted aside, grabbing his RT for another update, although his eyes never left his partner.
Bodie joined his partner in the ambulance, again keeping a watchful eye as his partner relaxed under the pain killers he was administered. He looked to the paramedic, who recognised the fear in his eyes and reassured him “It’s more headache than anything, but there is some debris in the wound that will need to be cleaned.” Bodie nodded in relief.
Doyle was efficiently treated in A & E and due to the resulting concussion, was admitted for the night, where he was found by Cowley sometime later, with Bodie glued to his side. “I know you heard the preliminary reports,” Cowley began, “but we have a better picture now”.
“The perpetrator was St John’s former lover, who was irrationally upset that they had split up just before his rise to fame. He thought that it was his work that had gained success for St John and that he should have shared in that success. When St John would not have a bar of him, he decided to take extreme measures.” Cowley looked up briefly from the report to see his two best agents share a meaningful look. With a small quiet smile to himself, he continued.
“The bullet was fired through the library window, clipping a shelf and a snow globe before sliding down the side of your face” Cowley indicated to Doyle, with report still in hand. He paused and looked at Doyle more closely, “I believe the debris they cleaned out of your wound was comprised water, porcelain and slivers of lead glass, which also comprised one of the many antique snow globes held in the library.” Doyle nodded, the hospital staff had also been intrigued to find out the source of the unusual combination of materials that had inadvertently been embedded in his wound.
“Fortunately” Cowley continued more gravely, “the family is happy to hear that you were not seriously harmed and will not be pursuing recompense for the shattered snowglobe.” Doyle sat upright, an outpouring of indignation cut off by his partner’s quick elbow to his side. Doyle winced at the discomfort caused by this movement, on top of his already throbbing head, but subsided without comment, at Bodie’s double look of plea for forgiveness and request for restraint.
“Bodie”, said Cowley as he looked to him, “I will need your report.” Bodie’s face fell. Cowley continued, “When Doyle completes his on his return to work.” Immediately, Bodie broke into a broad grin, as Doyle shook his head in disbelief in the fast change of mood.
Cowley again smiled to himself as he turned back to Doyle. “I understand they are keeping you overnight and that you are ordered home for rest for other three days.” “Yes sir” said Bodie, forestalling Doyle’s need to speak or nod his head. In looking at both men as he rose to leave, Cowley said “In that case gentlemen, that is plenty of time for you to get everything straight in your own minds. I expect those reports on my desk by 9am in four days time.” And with that, he turned and left.
Bodie shuffled closer to Doyle’s bedside and took his hand again. “You and a snow globe has gotten us three days off!”. Doyle smiled, “My mum collected snow globes” he reminisced. “Never thought one would save my life.” Bodie grew serious again. “I knew something was off, I should have……” Doyle silenced Bodie with a quick kiss. “You were there doing as you always do,” he smiled gently, “saving my life and my sanity in more ways that I can credit.” Bodie looked at him with embarrassment and so much more. “Merry Christmas sunshine” he was finally able to get out. “Merry Christmas to you too, you big lug.” Doyle replied, affection lacing every word. And with encouragement, Doyle lay down and closed his eyes and with Bodie holding his hand, he went to sleep, knowing that Bodie was there to watch for him, as he always did.
Discovered in a Snow Globe - A snowglobe
They were undercover again, although not the way that he wanted to be, Bodie thought, as he kept a poker face and moved under the direction of the photographer. He wanted to be under the covers, not undercover, but at least his partner was the same in both instances. That thought lightened his mood, but only for the moment it took for him to be recalled to their situation.
He followed the photographer’s directions, helping to herd the subjects to the right position, getting smiles from the children with his antics and from the females of all ages with his charm. Light positioning, film changeovers and general dogsbody, kept him busy as photographer’s assistant - not something he would ever consider taking on as a career.
Ray on the other hand, was in his element. His artistic streak was given full and free rein as the photographer and Bodie was sure his enjoyment was enhanced by Bodie’s lack of. He hid the grimace that thought engendered, not wanting to give any indication to said partner that he was anything other than professional and on top of the situation they found themselves in.
Another one of Cowley’s many favours had led them to be here.
The up and coming, in mode, photographer Graeme St John, had been engaged by a local charity, to take custom family Christmas photos for the rich and famous, in their own homes. St John was donating half his fee to the charity’s coffers and was booked out weeks in advance. And for some reason, someone had it for Graeme St John. The rest of CI5 was tracing the who and the why, after the threats and near misses had been brought to the attention of Cowley by St John’s father - an old colleague of the chief of CI5 from his MI5 days.
Cowley, never one to look a gift favour in the mouth, sent in his top team undercover. It didn’t hurt that Doyle and St John had a passing resemblance, so here they were.
The photo shoot wound up and the family finally let them go - thrilled and excited with anticipation about seeing what St John had done with their family and the Christmas theme.
Well, they let “St John” go. Bodie had been mostly ignored throughout the session and was only barely acknowledged as he returned after packing up and storing the last of the equipment in their vehicle outside. Although this was part of the job, it was also a chance for him to reconnoitre and as he returned to collect his “boss”, for all his casualness, Doyle noted that he was at high alert.
“Everything OK?” Doyle whispered as headed towards the door of the voluminous library, with Bodie’s hand in the small of his back, surreptitiously guiding his direction, whilst also providing a much needed connection between them.
“Don’t know”, Bodie said with worry highlighting each syllable. “Something’s off” and even as he said it, the sound of a shot echoed through the large room, almost lost in the sound of shattering glass, and Ray was falling away from his side.
Bodie dropped to the ground, trying to get his bearings, as his RT broke into a thousand voices and the screams of the family blended into a cacophony of sound that confused and disoriented him. But his beacon, his centre brought everything back into focus. “Ray!”, he managed to croak out as he scrambled about, checking for threats, whilst looking to see what had happened to his partner.
Ray had fallen behind a Chesterfield and all Bodie could see was his legs and they weren’t moving. “Ray” he screamed above the surrounding noise as he scrambled along the floor to get to him. He slid around the Chesterfield, keeping low, just in time to hear his partner grunt and roll over onto his back. “My head” he groaned, putting his hand to a long, bloody wound that ran from his left temple to just above his ear. He tried to sit up, but Bodie held him down, his relief at finding his partner “not dead” as he had feared, making his grip painful. The additional wince on his partner’s face, loosened his hold, but Bodie wasn’t letting go - not now, maybe not ever…….
‘Stay put’ he ordered fiercely, his relief overwhelming. His partner recognising the emotions and their cause, did as he was told and lay quietly, whilst Bodie got an update on the RT. “They got him,” he said with relief, which Doyle had heard for himself, but with Bodie on the edge, he wasn’t going to comment on.
Bodie recognised this restraint quickly and looked at his partner more carefully. He whipped out his pristine handkerchief (weren’t they always) and used it to replace his partner’s hands on the wound. The material against it caused Doyle to hiss in pain. “Don’t worry sunshine” Bodie reassured whilst maintaining the pressure, “we will get you sorted in no time.”
Doyle pushed again to sit up and together they manoeuvred him so that his back was to the Chesterfield, whilst Bodie maintained the pressure on the wound. They waited quietly, just existing in the moment, eyes speaking so much more than words, until a medic appeared. Bodie scooted aside, grabbing his RT for another update, although his eyes never left his partner.
Bodie joined his partner in the ambulance, again keeping a watchful eye as his partner relaxed under the pain killers he was administered. He looked to the paramedic, who recognised the fear in his eyes and reassured him “It’s more headache than anything, but there is some debris in the wound that will need to be cleaned.” Bodie nodded in relief.
Doyle was efficiently treated in A & E and due to the resulting concussion, was admitted for the night, where he was found by Cowley sometime later, with Bodie glued to his side. “I know you heard the preliminary reports,” Cowley began, “but we have a better picture now”.
“The perpetrator was St John’s former lover, who was irrationally upset that they had split up just before his rise to fame. He thought that it was his work that had gained success for St John and that he should have shared in that success. When St John would not have a bar of him, he decided to take extreme measures.” Cowley looked up briefly from the report to see his two best agents share a meaningful look. With a small quiet smile to himself, he continued.
“The bullet was fired through the library window, clipping a shelf and a snow globe before sliding down the side of your face” Cowley indicated to Doyle, with report still in hand. He paused and looked at Doyle more closely, “I believe the debris they cleaned out of your wound was comprised water, porcelain and slivers of lead glass, which also comprised one of the many antique snow globes held in the library.” Doyle nodded, the hospital staff had also been intrigued to find out the source of the unusual combination of materials that had inadvertently been embedded in his wound.
“Fortunately” Cowley continued more gravely, “the family is happy to hear that you were not seriously harmed and will not be pursuing recompense for the shattered snowglobe.” Doyle sat upright, an outpouring of indignation cut off by his partner’s quick elbow to his side. Doyle winced at the discomfort caused by this movement, on top of his already throbbing head, but subsided without comment, at Bodie’s double look of plea for forgiveness and request for restraint.
“Bodie”, said Cowley as he looked to him, “I will need your report.” Bodie’s face fell. Cowley continued, “When Doyle completes his on his return to work.” Immediately, Bodie broke into a broad grin, as Doyle shook his head in disbelief in the fast change of mood.
Cowley again smiled to himself as he turned back to Doyle. “I understand they are keeping you overnight and that you are ordered home for rest for other three days.” “Yes sir” said Bodie, forestalling Doyle’s need to speak or nod his head. In looking at both men as he rose to leave, Cowley said “In that case gentlemen, that is plenty of time for you to get everything straight in your own minds. I expect those reports on my desk by 9am in four days time.” And with that, he turned and left.
Bodie shuffled closer to Doyle’s bedside and took his hand again. “You and a snow globe has gotten us three days off!”. Doyle smiled, “My mum collected snow globes” he reminisced. “Never thought one would save my life.” Bodie grew serious again. “I knew something was off, I should have……” Doyle silenced Bodie with a quick kiss. “You were there doing as you always do,” he smiled gently, “saving my life and my sanity in more ways that I can credit.” Bodie looked at him with embarrassment and so much more. “Merry Christmas sunshine” he was finally able to get out. “Merry Christmas to you too, you big lug.” Doyle replied, affection lacing every word. And with encouragement, Doyle lay down and closed his eyes and with Bodie holding his hand, he went to sleep, knowing that Bodie was there to watch for him, as he always did.