Fic: Just An Ordinary Day
Title: Just An Ordinary Day
Author: Liriel
Format: short story
Circuit Archive: yes
Pros-Lib: yes (will send it shortly)
Slash/Gen: slash
Pairing: Bodie/Doyle
Summary: It's just an ordinary work day - except that the lads are supposed to be off duty.
Disclaimer: Not mine, sadly.
A/N: Written as a happy birthday to firlefanzine who created the longest hyphenated word in the world to ask for heroes-in-an-all-days-situation-saving-joe-public-and-bodie-gets-hurt. *g* Happy birthday, Firle! I hope you like it!
Bodie peered over the bonnet of the car he and his partner were crouched behind. They'd arrived on the scene to find a gunman holding a group of terrified shoppers hostage and after conferring with the police on the scene, they'd taken cover to regroup. “Why do the lunatics always come out just as we've been given a couple of days leave?” he grumbled.
“Cowley rings them up.”
Bodie snorted with amusement. “We need to get closer.”
“Not much cover.”
“PC Plod did a good job of removing any hint of that,” Bodie agreed.
“Some people are never satisfied. He's made a nice, clear path to the door of the shop for you.”
“Yeah, only he didn't even leave a discarded newspaper to hide behind.”
“And you think coppers are all inept,” Doyle replied dryly. “He probably swept up all the dust too - at great personal risk to himself.”
Bodie gave Doyle an exasperated roll of his eyes and Doyle grinned.
“Go on then,” Doyle nudged. “You've got that rubbish bin and the post box for cover. Svelte bloke like you - that should be plenty.” He pointed out the items. “I'll cover you.”
“What are you going to use? The lamp post?”
“Yeah.” Doyle winked.
Bodie grimaced, but cautiously made his way around the back of the car.
Doyle waited until his partner was concealed as well as he could be behind the post box on the corner and then crept around the front of the car, crouching low as he dashed to the lamppost.
Shots rang out from the dark interior of the cake shop and Doyle flattened himself on the ground, trying to position himself so that the lamppost gave the maximum amount of cover. He couldn't return fire because he didn't have a clear line on the gunman and didn't want to take the chance of hitting any of the hostages.
Bodie used the distraction of Doyle's movement to edge closer to the shop. Darting out from behind the post box, he ran in a zig zag pattern in an effort to present an unpredictable target.
Suddenly a rubbish bin rolled past him, veering into his path and Bodie was powerless to prevent himself from tripping over it and measuring his length on the pavement. Shots from the cake shop whined as they passed over his head too close for comfort.
Bodie rolled over, grabbing the errant bin to use as a shield as Doyle dove to the ground beside him and opened fire on the shop, firing twice and then waiting. There was no return fire from the shop, just the sounds of women screaming hysterically.
“You all right?” Doyle asked, not taking his eyes off the shop door.
“Yeah,” Bodie groaned.
“Sit tight.” Keeping low, Doyle crept around the rubbish bin and over to the shop doorway. After peering inside to see the gunman dead on the floor, he signalled to the police officers who were waiting well back that it was safe to approach.
Walking back to where Bodie was sitting on the road with a constable hovering beside him, Doyle couldn't help but grin. “London's finest, ready to aid the injured?”
“Bloody sod is the reason for the acrobatics,” Bodie grumbled, glancing up at the contrite constable. “He's the one who tossed the rubbish bin in my way.”
“You what?” Doyle glared at the constable who took a hesitant step back. “Initiative is highly commendable, but when it endangers the life of another officer, it's the fastest route to joining the metermaids...”
“Aww, put it away, Doyle,” Bodie said. He turned to the police constable. “I told you it'd be better if you were gone by the time he got back.”
Ignoring the constable who was trying to make a surreptitious escape, Doyle put his hands on his hips as he focused on his partner. “And why are you still lolling about on the ground?”
Bodie rubbed his nose sheepishly. “Could use a hand up,” he admitted.
“What have you done?” Doyle asked in concern. He helped Bodie to his feet, noting that his partner wasn't putting much weight on one foot.
“Just get us back to the car, Doyle,” Bodie said, trying not to wince with each step they took.
“Bodie,” Doyle said in warning as he slipped his arm around Bodie's waist, supporting most of his partner's weight as they hobbled back to the car.
“It's just a slight twist. It'll be fine.”
“If it's not...”
“You'll be the first to know.”
“Are you sure you don't want to get it checked out?” Doyle asked as he helped Bodie settle into the passenger seat of the silver Capri.
Bodie heaved an exasperated sigh and rolled his eyes. “Just get in the car, Doyle. We're on two days leave and I'm not spending any of that time at hospital.”
“Yeah, but...”
“Home - Florence.”
Doyle grinned and stepped on the gas, pulling away from the curb with a squeal of tires.
*
With Bodie settled on the couch, an ice pack on his ankle and a cup of tea in his hand, Doyle cocked his head to one side as he looked at Bodie. “You know,” he mused. “I think you should send a thank you gift to Constable Brown for tossing that rubbish bin in your path.”
“I've ruined my second best trousers and buggered my ankle so that we can't go for a bike ride tomorrow!” Bodie protested.
“Yeah,” Doyle agreed. “And you don't have an extra hole in your head. If you hadn't tripped over that bin, you'd have been hit by the bullets from that crazy kid's gun.”
Bodie grinned. “Thought you moved awfully fast to get beside me before I'd stopped rolling.”
Doyle sat beside him on the couch and took Bodie's hand in his. “Thought you were done for when you went down.”
“I've just realized,” Bodie said in an aggrieved tone. “We didn't get the cake we went for.”
Doyle just laughed and pulled Bodie into his arms.