(no subject)
Visions of Bodie & Doyle: desperate times (no, not the General Election....)
He scanned the immediate environment again. There! It looked like a roll of carpet. An
off-cut. Something tossed out the back of a van or thrown over a muddy puddle on a building
site to give underfoot some traction. Doyle didn't hesitate. He didn't think he hesitated.
In reality he was too wrecked to move at anything like his usual speed. What was it he was
seeing? Something in his brain started raising, comparing and discarding images for matches.
Inanimate object? No.
Animal? No.
Human? Yes, possibly.
Yes! Definitely!
Alive? Alive? Breathing? Were they breathing? Were they moving?
Searching through hell for Bodie:dollydaydream
Doyle was conscious of the two inches that separated them, the two inches that Bodie now
bridged only from necessity. Damn him! Doyle had never been more constantly aware of him.
Before, he had relaxed into their shared world, their shared existence, the two of them
working as one, their borders held in common, erected to keep others at bay. And now... now?
Now he had no idea what to think. Bodie had kept his word. On the job, he was as physical as
ever, brushing past Doyle without a qualm, guiding Doyle's foot firmly into place on precarious
ladders. Off the job, though, he was careful: glasses and mugs passed without a touch, injuries
bandaged deftly, and Doyle waiting... waiting for their two worlds to rejoin. Oh Bodie, what did
I do?.....Nine weeks, and Doyle's heart was slowly being choked. If anything, the intensity
between them had increased. Perhaps... Perhaps the constant connections had been a safe release.
Perhaps I misunderstood anyway. Perhaps he didn't really want that....
Longest Night:ML Mead
There was blood.....darkly black against the scuffed vinyl of the...seat. Doyle wanted to
touch it, because it was Bodie's, to have something of Bodie's against his skin, even if
it was his blood - even if it was the blood of a dead man.
No. Bodie wasn't dead. Think it, believe it, believe it.
The blood was thick, a patch rather than drops, and slightly smeared, as if perhaps Bodie
had been lying down and then got up, sliding the injury along the seat as he did so. It was
further than a head's-length from the side...maybe his shoulder? But then, if it was bleeding
that much it would have to hurt, so surely he'd have put his hand over it…
Unconscious then.
Bodie bleeding, unconscious....
On This Day in History:Slantedlight
He fades in and out between the steady beeps of the heart monitor, the whispered commands
of doctors and nurses. He thinks he hears Bodie and Cowley talking in the background, but
he could be imagining it just because he wants them to be here.....Bodie's always been
Cowley's man--*"Yes, sir. Running all the way, sir."*--except when Doyle's in trouble.
Then he's dark as the jungle. And just as determined. Would run right over the orders
and the rules if it meant Doyle's life.
This time, maybe it does.
Doyle wants to smile, but he's forgotten how to move the muscles on his face. His body
feels like someone else's, something he can only look at and never touch again. He tries
to focus on Bodie's voice....He wants to tell Bodie not to be afraid, but he can't. Bodie
wouldn't listen to him anyway. Never does.
One Can Only See:Lacey McBain
"Come on, Ray. How long has this been going on?" As if he couldn't guess.
Doyle's second attempt at speech was successful. "Started -- last week. Was just heavy
breathing at first and whispering my name. I -- I thought it was you, pratting about."
He hung his head, refusing to meet his mate's eyes, ashamed at the admission. Bodie was
too incensed to notice.
"When did he start with the heavy stuff?"
"Beginning of the week. It's been....."
"Why didn't you report it?"
That question did cause Doyle to look up. His bloodshot eyes were too bright and his mouth
compressed into a thin line. "Oh yes -- see how that would look on an official report. Agent
4.5 receiving obscene calls from a man. Please investigate. Great conversation for the rest
-room..."
"All right," Bodie soothed, "so you had your reasons for NOT reporting it. Why didn't you
tell me?"
Doyle gulped and lowered his eyes.... Man on the Line:Kazi
Just another job; just another day. But things had gone wrong, and it was the end of
Bodie's life. He knew that, instantly, when the trigger failed to pour out the expected
stream of slugs into his opponent; produced only a bewildered click, and then silence.
Bodie saw it all as if in slow motion: the man who faced him, crouching in a desperation
that was only now turning into speculation, hardening into a light of unlooked-for triumph
as he saw that Bodie was defeated......lifting his gun, focussing it on Bodie ten yards
away with no cover...It should all have been different, he thought deep in shock, it
should have been me where he is now. So death was finally here. For Doyle too, maybe;
Doyle would be here otherwise...He'd always known they would go together, him and Doyle....
Adagio:Sebastian
He took a deep breath, positioned himself, and stared through the scope into the office
on the other side of the road....Doyle’s finger tightened on the trigger and then relaxed
fractionally "It’s okay. You’ll do it.”
Bodie stood slightly behind him and to one side. Doyle felt his partner’s hand settle
lightly in the small of his back, grounding him, telling him that he was not alone. It
was a comfort. He took a deep breath, dropped his shoulders to steady himself and looked
through the scope of the gun again.
Two girls stood talking in front of the window. One of them laughed. The other looked out,
straight toward Doyle and he had to fight the urge to pull back, sure that she had seen him.
"Come on, come on …” he muttered.
“One minute.”
Doyle kept his eye on the window where their target would appear......
"Thirty seconds.” We Could Be In Skegness:alana_lerryn
Outside.....all was abruptly quiet but for the hissing and whirring of the wind across the
fens. Bodie spun around, Browning in hand, trying to hear something, anything...
"I don't like this..." Doyle said, voice low.
"Yeah... Where's it coming from?"
"And why'd they stop?"
They listened again, straining their ears against the wind. Time passed.
"They've gone by - must have."
"Where to?"
"Dunno, but I know where I'm going, mate..."
Mollycross:Slantedlight
“Open the door.....Or I swear I’ll kick it down, he needs a doctor.”
“Stand back. You stand back away from the door on the far side so I can see you.”
Doyle does as he’s told, standing loose limbed, light on his feet on the other side of the
room and I can see his chest rising and falling with his breath, his eyes narrowed and dark
now, waiting. I recognise his stance, seen it countless times in our working lives. He’s
readied himself to leap at the terrorist, risk the gun and he’s quick, I’ll give him that,
but not that quick, and he’s on his own. The only advantage I’ve ever had over my partner
is my weight, and the power behind it. And both are now useless.
I play dead.......
Doyle & Bodie - Touched Silver:Jaicen5 5
I drift back as I have a thousand times before to the moment when Johnny was ambushed,
not two feet away from me, killed instantly by a slug from Bodie’s weapon. The image replays
over and over and always, always in slow motion just to make sure I don’t miss a bloody thing;
the torment just doesn’t stop.
Johnny’s running; arm locked out in front of him, firing randomly at the unseen enemy, brave
but stupid, stupid and reckless.....
I’ll never forget that rock hard face and those piercing eyes as he ripped me from my
brother’s corpse, smoking gun in hand. The unsympathetic bastard dragged me away in cuffs,
no chance for sentimental goodbyes. My last glimpse of Johnny was his perfectly still body
in a halo of congealing blood.
His death meant nothing to Bodie; just another death in a long line of murders......
Today is pay day, time to settle the account Bodie my boy.
Revenge - Best Served Cold:ci5mates
"I still don't believe it. Ray is less likely to be a double agent than I am!"
"That I can believe, which is what I am trying to find out. The question is, are you?"
"You think... Ray and I... Oh Christ."
Cowley stared impassively back.
Bodie took a couple of deep breaths to calm himself. This was not the time to start getting
angry. "For what it's worth, Sir. I'm not."
"I appreciate your directness, Bodie," Cowley remarked, dryly, "However, in the circumstances,
you will appreciate that I don't take that as read, quite yet."
"And do you have any 'evidence' against me?"
Cowley shrugged. "All evidence against you is circumstantial at best. The most compelling
being your sexual relationship with Doyle...."
Flowers Never Bend:Andromeda
I can’t hear much over the clanging under my feet and can’t think over the clamour of my brain.
The stairway seems to last forever.....
On and on and on - time like tiny grains of sand escaping from the hourglass. Everything
just....slipping away....Something slipping away.
I don’t think I need to explain how numb the anger makes you when it burns and blazes and
takes control. Because I’m not the one in control now, it is. The anger and...I’d never admit
it but - the fear. The acidic, gut-wrenching fear.
How far could he have got with fully-grown whippet of a man - all wild curls and red fury in
his bones? How far could he have dragged him with the barrel to his head, shouting obscenities
down the stairs at us and laughing his stupid head off?
Further than I can believe. Further than I can handle....
Forever:Agent_Talis
Doyle was talking into static ''4.5, I've got him, now give us
some bloody space, I need to get him out of here...No sir, he's not alright...I'll try
sir, not sure how much he's hearing...Yeah, I think it would help if we could cut the
distance to the car...No sir, I want to take him home...No sir, he's not a danger, least
not to the general public...Of course I'm bloody sure...yes sir, sorry sir, I understand
that sir, but with all due respect, they're not the ones holding his bleedin' hand...
yes sir...of course not sir...yes sir ...mine sir, don't think his...yes sir, thank you sir.''
All the Perfumes of Arabia:fiorenza_a
"I can't figure this out. It can't have been a regular bomb - a pulse bomb and gas,
maybe? Take out the airplanes in the area, any cars with computerised systems, and then
gas to knock the rest of us out. But why this part of London? It doesn't..."
Bodie shook his head. "It's not just London."
"What?"
"A couple of the news stations are still up. I passed an electronics shop on the way
down here. France, Russia, America- - it's the same everywhere."
"Everywhere," Doyle echoed hollowly.
Simple Twist of Fate:Sarah K (tears_of_nienna)
Bodie knew he shouldn’t be there but he couldn’t stay away. It was the middle of the
night and no amount of rank pulling or concession to circumstance would have allowed Bodie
ntrance to the hospital, much less to Doyle at such an hour. So, it was through the back
entrance, through the stores and the laundry, past the morgue that froze his blood, up the
service stairs and through a window that led Bodie to the small platform above Doyle’s
hospital room. He didn’t know how long he’d been standing there but his hands were
starting to burn from his grip of the metal handrail. The feeling comforted Bodie; the
physical pain somehow soothing the emotional one.
As Bodie stood there high above Doyle, hearing the whoosh-clunk of the ventilator and
watching his partner’s chest rise and fall he began to feel as if an invisible thread was
connecting them....
God Complex:Pretending2BeMe
There is a deafening scream of brakes as Bodie takes the corner wide throwing me against the passanger door.
“Don’t lose them!” I yell, the Cortina before us disappearing into the distance. “Don’t....
intend to.” Bodie’s face is set with grim concentration, intent on persuing our quarry as
we are led away from the outskirts of London. The streets quickly peter out into more open
countryside and still the Brayshaw brothers ahead of us show no sign of slowing down....
“How’s the petrol doing?”
Bodie glances at the dial. “Not good. We’re nearly out.....”
“4-5 to base. Still in pursuit of the Brayshaws. We need back up...."
Survival of the fittest:Wilsden
"Have you got them all, do you think?" asked Bodie, knowing if he couldn't do his job it
wouldn't matter. "Everyone in isolation who could possibly spread this thing?"
"Aye, we think so," said Cowley grimly. "But it's rather like closing the barn door after
the horses have bolted. There no telling..."
"What about the doctors? Are they any closer?" Bodie asked, and then wished he hadn't. If
the answer was no, he didn't want to hear it....
"Bodie..." Cowley began. "I'm sure he'd like to see you. You know there'd be no danger; he's
completely isolated. You could--"
"I have four more passenger identifications to run down," said Bodie, preempting whatever
Cowley had to say. "And a meeting with one of the airline's hostesses who was not on that
flight. I'm going to know more about the dead girl and her mate Edward than their own mums
before I sleep. I'll be around... How is he?"
Cowley looked down....
"Tick tock," said Bodie...... Doyle's War:Pandora Bachs
He recognised the vision stalking towards him, although in a vastly different state to
this present one. Before he’d been mellow, tipsy, half dozing over his drink in the booth,
no real pattern to his visits. Harmless, Gavin had thought, a man down on his luck and looking
for solitary company as so many did these days. God not now. Now he looked like the devil
incarnate, eyes narrowed with anger and menace, he vaulted the counter, crowding Gavin up
so that the sharp jabbing in his lower back escalated to full blown pain and his face came
close, mean.
“Where is he?”
“What the hell…” As if he hadn’t had enough of a hard time already. “I don’t...”
“Where is Doyle? Ray Doyle?” The hands in his shirtfront pushed back unmercifully and Gavin gave a low groan of agony....
“They took him, I don’t know where…” Gavin stammered out. “I don’t know anything.”
“When?” the man snarled. “How long ago? Who took him?” A Target Disguised:Jaicen5
They beat him with their cudgels. He held on as long as he could. He felt his ribs break,
and knew there was blood running down his head. He felt consciousness fading. Somehow he was
lying on the floor again, and they were kicking him. They slammed his face into the floor,
holding him down, hands on his wrists and ankles, and hands, too, spreading his buttocks. It
wasn't hands that fucked his arse, and he wept with the pain of it, though he tried to stop.
It didn't end there. There was more pain to come, more humiliation, more things for them to
do to him - to his cock, to his feet, to his mouth. He shouted curses, spitting blood, unable
to move even when they let go of his arms and legs and used their fists to hit him again, and
again. The light faded to darkness, and a sort of tense, pained isolation. He was in a void
of sharp and wandering pain centred on his genitals. His voice had gone, and he was still
screaming.
When he opened his eyes, it was to a dream of Doyle... Rent Boy: Elizabeth Holden.
He scanned the immediate environment again. There! It looked like a roll of carpet. An
off-cut. Something tossed out the back of a van or thrown over a muddy puddle on a building
site to give underfoot some traction. Doyle didn't hesitate. He didn't think he hesitated.
In reality he was too wrecked to move at anything like his usual speed. What was it he was
seeing? Something in his brain started raising, comparing and discarding images for matches.
Inanimate object? No.
Animal? No.
Human? Yes, possibly.
Yes! Definitely!
Alive? Alive? Breathing? Were they breathing? Were they moving?
Searching through hell for Bodie:dollydaydream
Doyle was conscious of the two inches that separated them, the two inches that Bodie now
bridged only from necessity. Damn him! Doyle had never been more constantly aware of him.
Before, he had relaxed into their shared world, their shared existence, the two of them
working as one, their borders held in common, erected to keep others at bay. And now... now?
Now he had no idea what to think. Bodie had kept his word. On the job, he was as physical as
ever, brushing past Doyle without a qualm, guiding Doyle's foot firmly into place on precarious
ladders. Off the job, though, he was careful: glasses and mugs passed without a touch, injuries
bandaged deftly, and Doyle waiting... waiting for their two worlds to rejoin. Oh Bodie, what did
I do?.....Nine weeks, and Doyle's heart was slowly being choked. If anything, the intensity
between them had increased. Perhaps... Perhaps the constant connections had been a safe release.
Perhaps I misunderstood anyway. Perhaps he didn't really want that....
Longest Night:ML Mead
There was blood.....darkly black against the scuffed vinyl of the...seat. Doyle wanted to
touch it, because it was Bodie's, to have something of Bodie's against his skin, even if
it was his blood - even if it was the blood of a dead man.
No. Bodie wasn't dead. Think it, believe it, believe it.
The blood was thick, a patch rather than drops, and slightly smeared, as if perhaps Bodie
had been lying down and then got up, sliding the injury along the seat as he did so. It was
further than a head's-length from the side...maybe his shoulder? But then, if it was bleeding
that much it would have to hurt, so surely he'd have put his hand over it…
Unconscious then.
Bodie bleeding, unconscious....
On This Day in History:Slantedlight
He fades in and out between the steady beeps of the heart monitor, the whispered commands
of doctors and nurses. He thinks he hears Bodie and Cowley talking in the background, but
he could be imagining it just because he wants them to be here.....Bodie's always been
Cowley's man--*"Yes, sir. Running all the way, sir."*--except when Doyle's in trouble.
Then he's dark as the jungle. And just as determined. Would run right over the orders
and the rules if it meant Doyle's life.
This time, maybe it does.
Doyle wants to smile, but he's forgotten how to move the muscles on his face. His body
feels like someone else's, something he can only look at and never touch again. He tries
to focus on Bodie's voice....He wants to tell Bodie not to be afraid, but he can't. Bodie
wouldn't listen to him anyway. Never does.
One Can Only See:Lacey McBain
"Come on, Ray. How long has this been going on?" As if he couldn't guess.
Doyle's second attempt at speech was successful. "Started -- last week. Was just heavy
breathing at first and whispering my name. I -- I thought it was you, pratting about."
He hung his head, refusing to meet his mate's eyes, ashamed at the admission. Bodie was
too incensed to notice.
"When did he start with the heavy stuff?"
"Beginning of the week. It's been....."
"Why didn't you report it?"
That question did cause Doyle to look up. His bloodshot eyes were too bright and his mouth
compressed into a thin line. "Oh yes -- see how that would look on an official report. Agent
4.5 receiving obscene calls from a man. Please investigate. Great conversation for the rest
-room..."
"All right," Bodie soothed, "so you had your reasons for NOT reporting it. Why didn't you
tell me?"
Doyle gulped and lowered his eyes.... Man on the Line:Kazi
Just another job; just another day. But things had gone wrong, and it was the end of
Bodie's life. He knew that, instantly, when the trigger failed to pour out the expected
stream of slugs into his opponent; produced only a bewildered click, and then silence.
Bodie saw it all as if in slow motion: the man who faced him, crouching in a desperation
that was only now turning into speculation, hardening into a light of unlooked-for triumph
as he saw that Bodie was defeated......lifting his gun, focussing it on Bodie ten yards
away with no cover...It should all have been different, he thought deep in shock, it
should have been me where he is now. So death was finally here. For Doyle too, maybe;
Doyle would be here otherwise...He'd always known they would go together, him and Doyle....
Adagio:Sebastian
He took a deep breath, positioned himself, and stared through the scope into the office
on the other side of the road....Doyle’s finger tightened on the trigger and then relaxed
fractionally "It’s okay. You’ll do it.”
Bodie stood slightly behind him and to one side. Doyle felt his partner’s hand settle
lightly in the small of his back, grounding him, telling him that he was not alone. It
was a comfort. He took a deep breath, dropped his shoulders to steady himself and looked
through the scope of the gun again.
Two girls stood talking in front of the window. One of them laughed. The other looked out,
straight toward Doyle and he had to fight the urge to pull back, sure that she had seen him.
"Come on, come on …” he muttered.
“One minute.”
Doyle kept his eye on the window where their target would appear......
"Thirty seconds.” We Could Be In Skegness:alana_lerryn
Outside.....all was abruptly quiet but for the hissing and whirring of the wind across the
fens. Bodie spun around, Browning in hand, trying to hear something, anything...
"I don't like this..." Doyle said, voice low.
"Yeah... Where's it coming from?"
"And why'd they stop?"
They listened again, straining their ears against the wind. Time passed.
"They've gone by - must have."
"Where to?"
"Dunno, but I know where I'm going, mate..."
Mollycross:Slantedlight
“Open the door.....Or I swear I’ll kick it down, he needs a doctor.”
“Stand back. You stand back away from the door on the far side so I can see you.”
Doyle does as he’s told, standing loose limbed, light on his feet on the other side of the
room and I can see his chest rising and falling with his breath, his eyes narrowed and dark
now, waiting. I recognise his stance, seen it countless times in our working lives. He’s
readied himself to leap at the terrorist, risk the gun and he’s quick, I’ll give him that,
but not that quick, and he’s on his own. The only advantage I’ve ever had over my partner
is my weight, and the power behind it. And both are now useless.
I play dead.......
Doyle & Bodie - Touched Silver:Jaicen5 5
I drift back as I have a thousand times before to the moment when Johnny was ambushed,
not two feet away from me, killed instantly by a slug from Bodie’s weapon. The image replays
over and over and always, always in slow motion just to make sure I don’t miss a bloody thing;
the torment just doesn’t stop.
Johnny’s running; arm locked out in front of him, firing randomly at the unseen enemy, brave
but stupid, stupid and reckless.....
I’ll never forget that rock hard face and those piercing eyes as he ripped me from my
brother’s corpse, smoking gun in hand. The unsympathetic bastard dragged me away in cuffs,
no chance for sentimental goodbyes. My last glimpse of Johnny was his perfectly still body
in a halo of congealing blood.
His death meant nothing to Bodie; just another death in a long line of murders......
Today is pay day, time to settle the account Bodie my boy.
Revenge - Best Served Cold:ci5mates
"I still don't believe it. Ray is less likely to be a double agent than I am!"
"That I can believe, which is what I am trying to find out. The question is, are you?"
"You think... Ray and I... Oh Christ."
Cowley stared impassively back.
Bodie took a couple of deep breaths to calm himself. This was not the time to start getting
angry. "For what it's worth, Sir. I'm not."
"I appreciate your directness, Bodie," Cowley remarked, dryly, "However, in the circumstances,
you will appreciate that I don't take that as read, quite yet."
"And do you have any 'evidence' against me?"
Cowley shrugged. "All evidence against you is circumstantial at best. The most compelling
being your sexual relationship with Doyle...."
Flowers Never Bend:Andromeda
I can’t hear much over the clanging under my feet and can’t think over the clamour of my brain.
The stairway seems to last forever.....
On and on and on - time like tiny grains of sand escaping from the hourglass. Everything
just....slipping away....Something slipping away.
I don’t think I need to explain how numb the anger makes you when it burns and blazes and
takes control. Because I’m not the one in control now, it is. The anger and...I’d never admit
it but - the fear. The acidic, gut-wrenching fear.
How far could he have got with fully-grown whippet of a man - all wild curls and red fury in
his bones? How far could he have dragged him with the barrel to his head, shouting obscenities
down the stairs at us and laughing his stupid head off?
Further than I can believe. Further than I can handle....
Forever:Agent_Talis
Doyle was talking into static ''4.5, I've got him, now give us
some bloody space, I need to get him out of here...No sir, he's not alright...I'll try
sir, not sure how much he's hearing...Yeah, I think it would help if we could cut the
distance to the car...No sir, I want to take him home...No sir, he's not a danger, least
not to the general public...Of course I'm bloody sure...yes sir, sorry sir, I understand
that sir, but with all due respect, they're not the ones holding his bleedin' hand...
yes sir...of course not sir...yes sir ...mine sir, don't think his...yes sir, thank you sir.''
All the Perfumes of Arabia:fiorenza_a
"I can't figure this out. It can't have been a regular bomb - a pulse bomb and gas,
maybe? Take out the airplanes in the area, any cars with computerised systems, and then
gas to knock the rest of us out. But why this part of London? It doesn't..."
Bodie shook his head. "It's not just London."
"What?"
"A couple of the news stations are still up. I passed an electronics shop on the way
down here. France, Russia, America- - it's the same everywhere."
"Everywhere," Doyle echoed hollowly.
Simple Twist of Fate:Sarah K (tears_of_nienna)
Bodie knew he shouldn’t be there but he couldn’t stay away. It was the middle of the
night and no amount of rank pulling or concession to circumstance would have allowed Bodie
ntrance to the hospital, much less to Doyle at such an hour. So, it was through the back
entrance, through the stores and the laundry, past the morgue that froze his blood, up the
service stairs and through a window that led Bodie to the small platform above Doyle’s
hospital room. He didn’t know how long he’d been standing there but his hands were
starting to burn from his grip of the metal handrail. The feeling comforted Bodie; the
physical pain somehow soothing the emotional one.
As Bodie stood there high above Doyle, hearing the whoosh-clunk of the ventilator and
watching his partner’s chest rise and fall he began to feel as if an invisible thread was
connecting them....
God Complex:Pretending2BeMe
There is a deafening scream of brakes as Bodie takes the corner wide throwing me against the passanger door.
“Don’t lose them!” I yell, the Cortina before us disappearing into the distance. “Don’t....
intend to.” Bodie’s face is set with grim concentration, intent on persuing our quarry as
we are led away from the outskirts of London. The streets quickly peter out into more open
countryside and still the Brayshaw brothers ahead of us show no sign of slowing down....
“How’s the petrol doing?”
Bodie glances at the dial. “Not good. We’re nearly out.....”
“4-5 to base. Still in pursuit of the Brayshaws. We need back up...."
Survival of the fittest:Wilsden
"Have you got them all, do you think?" asked Bodie, knowing if he couldn't do his job it
wouldn't matter. "Everyone in isolation who could possibly spread this thing?"
"Aye, we think so," said Cowley grimly. "But it's rather like closing the barn door after
the horses have bolted. There no telling..."
"What about the doctors? Are they any closer?" Bodie asked, and then wished he hadn't. If
the answer was no, he didn't want to hear it....
"Bodie..." Cowley began. "I'm sure he'd like to see you. You know there'd be no danger; he's
completely isolated. You could--"
"I have four more passenger identifications to run down," said Bodie, preempting whatever
Cowley had to say. "And a meeting with one of the airline's hostesses who was not on that
flight. I'm going to know more about the dead girl and her mate Edward than their own mums
before I sleep. I'll be around... How is he?"
Cowley looked down....
"Tick tock," said Bodie...... Doyle's War:Pandora Bachs
He recognised the vision stalking towards him, although in a vastly different state to
this present one. Before he’d been mellow, tipsy, half dozing over his drink in the booth,
no real pattern to his visits. Harmless, Gavin had thought, a man down on his luck and looking
for solitary company as so many did these days. God not now. Now he looked like the devil
incarnate, eyes narrowed with anger and menace, he vaulted the counter, crowding Gavin up
so that the sharp jabbing in his lower back escalated to full blown pain and his face came
close, mean.
“Where is he?”
“What the hell…” As if he hadn’t had enough of a hard time already. “I don’t...”
“Where is Doyle? Ray Doyle?” The hands in his shirtfront pushed back unmercifully and Gavin gave a low groan of agony....
“They took him, I don’t know where…” Gavin stammered out. “I don’t know anything.”
“When?” the man snarled. “How long ago? Who took him?” A Target Disguised:Jaicen5
They beat him with their cudgels. He held on as long as he could. He felt his ribs break,
and knew there was blood running down his head. He felt consciousness fading. Somehow he was
lying on the floor again, and they were kicking him. They slammed his face into the floor,
holding him down, hands on his wrists and ankles, and hands, too, spreading his buttocks. It
wasn't hands that fucked his arse, and he wept with the pain of it, though he tried to stop.
It didn't end there. There was more pain to come, more humiliation, more things for them to
do to him - to his cock, to his feet, to his mouth. He shouted curses, spitting blood, unable
to move even when they let go of his arms and legs and used their fists to hit him again, and
again. The light faded to darkness, and a sort of tense, pained isolation. He was in a void
of sharp and wandering pain centred on his genitals. His voice had gone, and he was still
screaming.
When he opened his eyes, it was to a dream of Doyle... Rent Boy: Elizabeth Holden.