The silver and the gold

by Wilsden

The pressure of the job is getting to the lads.

The silver and the gold.

It all seemed to come to a head, for Ray Doyle at any rate, when Bodie wheeled him around sharply and flung him bodily against a filing cabinet in the office of George Cowley. Bodie grabbed him by the collar and pinned him against it drawing back his arm and balling his hand into a tight fist.

"For Christ sake, Doyle, will you just shut up!" His blazing eyes, hard and calculating, met those of his partner. No fear registered in them just sheer surprise; surprise that the mounting tension and general unease between them over the past few days should come to this.

"You apologise!" Doyle growled at him as he felt the other man begin to loosen his grip as if realising what he was doing.

"You go to hell!" Bodie pushed himself away and stormed out of the room brushing past Cowley standing in the doorway as he did so.

"What in Heaven's name...Bodie!" he stared after his operative watching him striding away down the corridor. "Get back here!" He called after him again but Bodie failed to heed the instruction.

"What the devil's going on?" Cowley demanded as he turned to face Doyle who was straightening his clothing.

"It was nothing, Sir."

"Nothing? The man was about to hit you! Sit down!"

"But..."

"I said sit down!" One insubordinate agent was enough for one day. He waited until Doyle was seated opposite him at his desk. "What's going on with you two?" he asked again but this time his tone held a softer note.

"It was my fault, Sir. I was goading him."

"About?"

"Nothing, honestly it..."

"I'm sorry, Doyle, but it is something when I walk in and find one agent about to strike another and let me tell you something. Had Bodie hit you it would have meant instant dismissal. There would be no second chances, he would be gone. I don't care who he is or how valuable an asset he might be to this organisation."

Cowley sat back in his chair lacing his fingers together and viewed his operative thoughtfully.

"Is this to do with the loss of the children?" he coaxed gently. Doyle didn't need to reply; Cowley could read the answer in his eyes.

"I must say, Bodie doesn't seem to be handling this at all well. I hadn't expected such a reaction from him. He's usually so..." Cowley trailed off, bringing his attention back to the man before him. "And you, Doyle? How are things with you? Dr. Ross tells me you failed to make your appointment with her, Bodie too, which, I might add I take a very dim view of. It's the reason why I summoned you both here."

Cowley saw the look of resignation on the face of his operative. "Och, I know she's not your favourite person but her Psychological Evaluation's are a necessayr evil. I'll not be signing either of you back as fit for duty until you attend her session. And ..."

Doyle was glad Cowley seemed to be doing all the talking. He hadn't wanted to try and explain what was going on between him and his partner, he wasn't sure he even knew. Yes, he had wanted someone to talk to about what had happened but it had to be someone who had been there,who had witnessed the events not Dr Ross who sat in her office away from the action away from the horrors of his everyday life on the job. He had assumed that that person wouldn't be Bodie and so, without a confidant, Doyle knew his best way of dealing with it was to put some distance between himself and C.I.5 with its constant reminders. And then he suddenly remembered the look he'd seen in Bodie's eyes as he'd been held by the collar against the filing cabinet. It was the same look he saw in his own eyes, the need to discuss what had happened, to try to make sense of it all. Doyle's thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the rising tone of Cowley's voice.

" ... from what I've just witnessed it can't come a moment too soon." finished Cowley but as he spoke he became aware that Doyle had a distant thoughtful look on his face.

"What are you thinking?" he asked.

"I was wondering..." Doyle paused. His boss probably wasn't going to like this. He knew the department was especially busy at the moment.

"Yes?"

"Well, Sir, I was just wondering if perhaps Bodie and I could have a few days off." He held his breath for a moment waiting for his request to be shot down before he adding. "Maybe a week. I just think we need some time away."

"From each other?"

" Yes...well no actually, but only if I can get him to agree." Doyle pondered.

"I can see some kind of plan forming in that head of yours, Doyle," said Cowley mystified "and if you can assure me it doesn't end with the pair of you killing each other then yes, I'll grant you both a week's leave. It's due to you anyway and besides neither of you are any use to me until you've been passed as fit for duty. One week mind, no more. And you can tell Master Bodie that I'll be having words with him when he returns about ignoring me."

"Thank you, Sir." Relief swept over Doyle and his eyes glistened in anticipation. He already knew where he intended to head for. His only problem now was getting Bodie to come with him.

Ray Doyle stood at the door of Bodie's apartment and stared at the man.

"Pack a bag with enough for a few days." He ordered. "I'll be back in an hour to pick you up."

"What?"

"You heard. And bring a book."

"A book?" Bodie echoed.

"One hour!" Doyle pivoted on his heels and quickly walked away.

"Are we on an assignment?" Bodie called after him but his partner had gone.

Doyle had to admit he was somewhat surprised to find that Bodie had done as he was told and was waiting outside when he drew the car up outside his apartment.

"Where are we going?" Bodie asked, as the car sped away from the curb. "Are we on assignment somewhere? What's it about? Is that why Cowley had called us in? Doyle?"

Doyle stared ahead of him, his face frozen. There was no way Bodie was getting another word out of him until he apologised and that didn't look likely any time soon.

"Okay, why aren't you talking to me?" Bodie asked irritated, as he glanced at Doyle and then at the road ahead. They appeared to be leaving the Capital. "Is this 'cos I pushed you because if it is you had it coming. I told you to leave me alone, that I was fine and that I didn't want to talk about it but oh no, you just had to keep pushing." He glanced at Doyle again. Still nothing.

"Well at least tell me about the assignment. I need to know what it's about, what sort of trouble to expect."

Doyle pretended to be deeply engrossed in driving, exaggerating his every look in the rear view mirror and side mirrors. As far as he was concerned he was alone.

"Have I ever told you you can be really childish sometimes?" Bodie noticed they were heading towards the motorway. He opened his mouth to speak but one look at Doyle's fixed expression made him think better of it. 'Fine.' thought Bodie.'If that's the way you want it two can play at that game.' Bodie crossed his arms and sank into his seat. He couldn't understand why Doyle was behaving like this. All he'd done was shove him in an effort to shut him up. Why did he have to keep asking him if he was okay and did he want to talk about it? They'd been partnered for years. Surely Doyle knew that going over what had happened just wasn't his way. And anyway, what good would it do, all that racking over old ground? It was over, done with. Time to move on.

Bodie sighed as the car slid smoothly onto the motorway. Who was he kidding? For some reason that even he didn't understand the death's of two of the four young boys in the bomb blast at the warehouse had affected him more than he thought it would. It was the start of the school holidays and, oblivious to the danger that they were about to walk into, they had thought it was an exciting place to play in. They weren't to know the place had been rigged to explode in a trap set specifically for Bodie and Doyle. The agents had managed to get to two of the lads just in time but the others...Bodie shuddered at the memory of the imploding brick walls, the noise, the dust and then the awful silence.

Bodie stared silently out of the window. They were children, just children and for Bodie, the fact he and Doyle had survived and they had perished just seemed to make it worse.

Several hours later Doyle turned the car off the main road and onto a narrow lane. He had made one stop at a motorway service station to stretch his legs for a few minutes and to use the facilities. Bodie had drifted in and out of a light sleep occasionally opening half an eye to view the passing landscape and woken to find the car parked and Doyle nowhere to be seen. What the hell was Doyle playing at? They were clearly not on an assignment so why had he lured him away under false pretencies. Perhaps, he thought fancifully, he intends to murder me and dump me out on the vast stretch of open bleak moorland that he had seen them pass not long ago. From his slumped position on the car seat he stared about him like a child trying to determine where he was and then he had seen Doyle striding back across the concourse towards the car. Bodie dropped back down again in his seat and feigned sleep.

The calm and serenity that this part of the country never failed to bring Doyle had begun to work its magic again and he wound down the window to take deep lungfuls of Cornish sea air as he neared his destination. He smiled at the the thought of the rude awakening his sleeping partner was about to get as, about a quarter of a mile later, the lane gave way to a stretch of an unmade bumpy track full of rough stones and pot holes. It wound its way up the steep incline to 'Tides Reach', a small cottage clinging with a few others to the side of the cliff.

Bodie was jolted into full wakefulness. "What the...?" he gasped as he was bounced around in his seat. Eventually Doyle pulled up at the cottage and parked neatly beside a small wooden table and chairs. He found the key to the front door hidden under a stone and began unloading the car of its bags of provisions. Bodie stood there for several seconds taking stock of his surroundings. The view down the cliff to the beach and the outgoing tide was breathtaking. But then his annoyance and anger returned and he grabbed his bag and flung it inside. "I hope this place has two bedrooms because I tell you now, I'm not sharing, especially with you." And with that he strode off back down the path which picked up another track leading down onto the beach.

Doyle, dismayed, watched Bodie leave. He wasn't sure what he had hoped by bringing him here but whatever it was it wasn't happening. He also knew he wasn't helping matters with his vow of silence but he couldn't seem to stop himself.

The following morning Doyle was sitting on the sofa sipping tea and staring out at the view through the huge lounge window when Bodie came down the stairs with his bag and dumped it on the floor.

"I'm going to find a phone box to call a taxi and get the first train home." He lingered at the door for a moment and it was long enough to note a look of disappointment on Doyle's face and it pained him. He'd come home late last night and prowled restlessly around the lounge. There was no television and he knew now why Doyle had suggested he brought a book with him. He found his bag had been taken upstairs to what turned out to be the best bedroom with a fine view over the sea.

Bodie paused now, hoping that Doyle would say something to bring an end to the silence but when he didn't Bodie turned and walked out of the cottage. 'Pig headed... stubborn...' Bodie muttered, as he turned left and followed the path that snaked around the coast. But his anger had long since subsided. He knew he was to blame or at least partly for the current situation. He also knew, as Doyle did, that it was just a reaction to the stress they were under and that it would eventually blow itself out; it was nothing serious.

Bodie walked for ages, stopping every now and then to enjoy the views and the sunshine that was beginning to fill the morning. The air was heavily scented with wildflowers and their colours lit up the cliff face. Life, he decided, was suddenly looking good again.

Doyle felt the sharp sea breeze blow refreshingly against his face adding to the exhilaration on his mid morning jog across the beach and up onto the coast path. The sun beat into his skin when, about a mile later, he threw himself onto a wooden seat overlooking the sparkling water. He had been right; getting away was just what he needed. It gave him a chance to think and to put things into perspective. Yes, the job he did was both dangerous and exciting and inevitably lives would be lost, innocent lives. He had been desperately saddened by the deaths of the children but he knew both he and Bodie had done all they could to save them. Perhaps knowing this had made it easier for him to accept. For some reason it didn't seem to for his partner. Always a difficult person to fathom Doyle knew he was still a long way from getting the full measure of him. He was still full of surprises. And, thought Doyle as he began to head back to the cottage refreshed and relaxed, he doesn't deserve my continued bloodymindedness. Life was short, far too tshort. Time to be the bigger man and apologise, except that would have to wait until he got back to London. Bodie would be well on his way home by now.

When Doyle returned to Tides Reach he was taken aback to find Bodie's bag still by the door where he'd dropped it several hours ago. Mystified,he stared at it for a few seconds before shrugging and heading to the shower.

Bodie turned off the coast path and onto the rough dirt track that lead to the cottage. He raised his head as he approached and saw Doyle sitting outside at the table and chairs. The eyes of the two men met, each seeing the light of surrender in the other's gaze. They grinned broadly at each other.

"Can we kiss and make up?" Bodie ventured. There was the unmistakeable twinkle of mischief about him.

"We can make up but I wouldn't touch you with a ten foot barge pole, mate."

Bodie hurled himself joyfully onto a chair chuckling.

"I love it when we make up, it's the best bit!"

"Shut up, you idiot!" Doyle smiled inwardly wondering if it wasn't better when they weren't talking.

Bodie turned his head to stare out at the water watching surfers taking to the waves. He was suddenly serious.

"Pretty bad wasn't it?" he said quietly.

"Yeah, mate." Doyle answered, knowing where his partner's thoughts had drifted and glad that those thoughts were being aired at last. "The job doesn't get any easier that's for sure. All we can do is our best and we did that. We did all we could. We saved two of the kids lives."

"But we survived. Didn't seem right somehow but now... Perhaps we lived to carry on the fight, you know...make the world a better place. I don't know..." he trailed off unable to look at Doyle. Doyle smiled. Clearly Bodie had been doing some thinking of his own.

"That's what I believe too," he agreed. "We've got to, that's what it's all for."

Bodie breathed deeply. He didn't want to talk about it any more, he didn't need to.

"I ought to do more of this," he said casting his arm about him."Getting away from it all. I don't do nearly enough. This place is pretty special isn't it?"

"Yeah, I like it, it helps to focus the mind."

"So when are we going home?"

Doyle was slightly disappointed. He'd hoped to stay the week but he knew Bodie was a city man and a couple of days here had probably been enough for him.

"First thing in the morning if you like."

"We can't stay longer?" It was Bodie's turn to look disappointed.

"We can stay all week if you want. Cowley's sanctioned it."

"Brilliant!" Bodie turned back to face Doyle, the grin wide on his face again."So watcha been doin'?" he surveyed the array of artists materials spread across the table.

"Went out for a jog. It helps me relax and that in turn makes me feel creative." Doyle told him.

"Yeah?" Bodie got up to stand behind him to view a half finished watercolour."

"Yeah."

"Seriously mate, I think you need to do some more relaxing."

"Oh, well thank you very much! This from the man who hasn't a creative bone in his body!"

"I can be creative!" Bodie responded indignantly as he took his seat again. "Give me some paper!" He reached across the table.

"Not that!" Doyle retrieved an expensive pad of watercolour paper. "Use this" He tossed a well used sketch pad in Bodie's direction.

There followed a lot of sniggers from Bodie as he settled down with the pad and a pencil and Doyle returned to his watercolour. When he glanced over at him Bodie was grinning like a child, his tongue out at the corner of his mouth. He heard the wild extravagant swirls of the pencil against paper. 'Something tells me that's not going to be complimentary!' he thought, enjoying the deeper contentment brought about by the end of their quarrel.

"Wanna see?" Bodie asked eventually. "The likeness is uncanny!"

"If I have to."

Bodie proudly revealed his masterpeice. Doyle stared at the cartoon like portrait which, as he had suspected, was a mass of curls, big eyes and a chipped tooth.

"Wow, Bodie! I never knew I was so handsome!"

"Believe me, mate, your're not."

"I'm going to make some coffee. Want one?"

"Only if there are some biscuits to go with it."

When Doyle returned to set a tray with coffee and biscuits on the table he found Bodie strangely secretive. He held the sketchpad against him as Doyle passed, shielding the page from his view.

"What are you up to?" he asked, his suspicion aroused.

"Nothing."

An hour or so later Doyle heard a soft sigh of contentment from Bodie and he watched the man put down the sketchpad and stretch out his limbs. Bodie caught his eye.

"I thought I might go and get us some fish and chips." he said. "You up for it?"

"Yeah, great."

"It's a nice evening. We could eat them on the beach... watch the sun go down." Bodie gazed up at the sky that was beginning to turn a subtle shade of pink.

"Sounds romantic!" Doyle grinned at him in reply.

"With anyone else but you it would be but beggars can't be choosers." Bodie grinned back at him. "Oh, and bring a couple of beers."

"I'll follow you down when I've put this lot away." Doyle indicated the paint and paper on the table. Bodie nodded and then, as if with great importance he placed the sketchpad on the table. There was a brief moment of hesitation and then he met Doyle's eyes with a soft almost shy expression on his face letting his fingers rest purposely on the book before getting up and walking away leaving Doyle puzzled. Alone, he put down his paintbrush and reached out to take the book Bodie clearly meant him to open. He leafed through the pages finding the various doodles his partner had sketched, smiling at the humourous ones but there was nothing untoward or unexpected in them that would have warranted the perusal he felt Bodie's expression had invited. And then he turned the next page and had his breath taken away.

We are perfection.

We move as one in wordless communication,my actions and reactions perfectly anticipated and understood as I understand his.

His unfailing trust in me, implicit and instinctive,knows no bounds.

His is the breath that carries me when I have no more left to give, the voice that fills the silence of my empty mind, that stills my restless thoughts.

I am nothing without him and so much more beside him.

He is the gold, I the thin thread of silver that trails in his wake and dances in his shadow.

He is warmth, he is strength, he is my protector.

He is everything to me that I hope I can be to him.

Doyle could hardly believe what he had read. In a daze he gathered up his materials took them inside getting two bottles of beer from the fridge, the words of the verse swimming in his head. He paused outside at the table for a moment reading the verse again, its words filling him with a sense of comfort and wellbeing. He had had no idea that Bodie held him in such high regard, nor that he was even capable of expressing his feelings so eloquently on paper. Nor, he realised as he made his way down to the beach, had he any idea what he was going to say to him. He knew Bodie would be embarrassed and he'd have to save him from that but he had to let him know his words had been read and appreciated.

The sun began to kiss the waters edge as Doyle sat down in the sand beside a cross legged Bodie who cradled two parcels of fish and chips in his lap. Doyle passed him a bottle of beer and leaned against him for a moment. "Beautiful sunset, mate."

Bodie knew exactly what he meant. "Could be better."

"No,mate,it couldn't." Doyle stared out to sea. "It's perfect, full of silver and gold."

Doyle saw the small smile his partner gave. Yeah, he'd said enough.