Pros fic - Snowdrops on the River Bank by Slantedlight
For loxleyprince, who dashed me a prompt when I asked for one - the lads in a Capri in the middle of that river in Newport Pagnell park! Thank you!
Snowdrops on the River Bank
by Slantedlight
There were snowdrops, Doyle thought inconsequentially, in front of him on the riverbank. Delicate white against dark green, and spring must be on its way. He shivered, knew that didn't feel right. It couldn't be spring, he was cold. He took a breath, blinked again, and could suddenly hear as well as see, the world rushing back at him, Bodie's voice loud in his ear, Bodie's hand warm and heavy on his shoulder, shaking him.
The river water, flooding in through the broken windscreen in front of him, brown and wet and fucking freezing.
"Yeah!" he managed, shrugging at Bodie's hand, and reaching up to rub his aching head. He was fine, they were on a job, he had to be fine. And if the water was getting in, then they could get out that way as well. "I'm alright - le's go!"
Even as he said it Bodie was grinning at him, turning the butt of his gun on the remaining glass, and bashing it out in front of them. The water streamed in, but the Capri seemed to be about as submerged as it was going to get, settled solidly onto the sludgy river bottom, and they crawled out through the space, stood ankle-deep in water on the bonnet and surveyed their position. A woman with a kid in a stroller was standing on the path by the snowdrops, staring at them in horror, and further along, on the bridge they'd raced over earlier, in hot pursuit of Alimad's kidnappers, a small crowd was gathering.
Worse still he could hear Cowley's voice on the other bank behind them.
"You'd think he'd be pleased," Bodie said. "Alimad'd be halfway back to Bulanel if we hadn't sacrificed our all to block 'em off like that."
"Nah, he had to get his shoes damp in that mud," Doyle tried, but he was feeling dizzy now that he was standing still, in fact he was swaying, and...
Bodie's hands caught his shoulders, kept him upright, a warm, solid support.
"...and there's duckweed in the motor," he finished, met Bodie's eyes, and suddenly they were both giggling, standing there in the middle of the river, determinedly not looking back to where Cowley was directing the local back-up in the fine art of arresting people who'd pissed him off.
Bodie didn't let go of him this time, either, and he rested his own hand on Bodie's shoulder in turn, just until the dizziness left him, another bloody concussion, no other reason. And if the touch steadied him, and warmed them both in every other way, then it was no one's business but their own.
"Come on then," he said at last. "Thinkin' about it's worse than doing it."
"Yeah." Bodie turned to look from one bank to the other. "You know the first rule of crossing a river though, don't you?"
Doyle looked at him, meaning it to be cynical, suspected it was something else from the way Bodie looked back. "No, what's the first rule of crossing a river?"
"Always, my son, but always cross to the nearest bank." And with another of those looks, Bodie steered him to step down into the cold - the fucking freezing - river water, and together they pushed through the mud and the muck towards the woman and the stroller, there among the snowdrops.
It ain't great, but it matches the pictures, right? *g*
Snowdrops on the River Bank
by Slantedlight
There were snowdrops, Doyle thought inconsequentially, in front of him on the riverbank. Delicate white against dark green, and spring must be on its way. He shivered, knew that didn't feel right. It couldn't be spring, he was cold. He took a breath, blinked again, and could suddenly hear as well as see, the world rushing back at him, Bodie's voice loud in his ear, Bodie's hand warm and heavy on his shoulder, shaking him.
The river water, flooding in through the broken windscreen in front of him, brown and wet and fucking freezing.
"Yeah!" he managed, shrugging at Bodie's hand, and reaching up to rub his aching head. He was fine, they were on a job, he had to be fine. And if the water was getting in, then they could get out that way as well. "I'm alright - le's go!"
Even as he said it Bodie was grinning at him, turning the butt of his gun on the remaining glass, and bashing it out in front of them. The water streamed in, but the Capri seemed to be about as submerged as it was going to get, settled solidly onto the sludgy river bottom, and they crawled out through the space, stood ankle-deep in water on the bonnet and surveyed their position. A woman with a kid in a stroller was standing on the path by the snowdrops, staring at them in horror, and further along, on the bridge they'd raced over earlier, in hot pursuit of Alimad's kidnappers, a small crowd was gathering.
Worse still he could hear Cowley's voice on the other bank behind them.
"You'd think he'd be pleased," Bodie said. "Alimad'd be halfway back to Bulanel if we hadn't sacrificed our all to block 'em off like that."
"Nah, he had to get his shoes damp in that mud," Doyle tried, but he was feeling dizzy now that he was standing still, in fact he was swaying, and...
Bodie's hands caught his shoulders, kept him upright, a warm, solid support.
"...and there's duckweed in the motor," he finished, met Bodie's eyes, and suddenly they were both giggling, standing there in the middle of the river, determinedly not looking back to where Cowley was directing the local back-up in the fine art of arresting people who'd pissed him off.
Bodie didn't let go of him this time, either, and he rested his own hand on Bodie's shoulder in turn, just until the dizziness left him, another bloody concussion, no other reason. And if the touch steadied him, and warmed them both in every other way, then it was no one's business but their own.
"Come on then," he said at last. "Thinkin' about it's worse than doing it."
"Yeah." Bodie turned to look from one bank to the other. "You know the first rule of crossing a river though, don't you?"
Doyle looked at him, meaning it to be cynical, suspected it was something else from the way Bodie looked back. "No, what's the first rule of crossing a river?"
"Always, my son, but always cross to the nearest bank." And with another of those looks, Bodie steered him to step down into the cold - the fucking freezing - river water, and together they pushed through the mud and the muck towards the woman and the stroller, there among the snowdrops.
It ain't great, but it matches the pictures, right? *g*