Esther was the beautiful nurse who had swum into Bodie's vision when his fever had finally abated enough to allow him to focus clearly after his near fatal stabbing at the hands of the gang in Blacktown. How he hated them; how he had grown to love the nurse wearing the same skin. It wasn't the skin you wore, Bodie had learned, but the heart you have inside. And Esther certainly had a heart – a forgiving heart, a generous heart. They started dating when Bodie was well enough to leave hospital. It hadn't been a passionate romance, but more a slow burn leading to a deep friendship. Later, her shifts and his would mean that they didn't see each other as often as they'd like, and when they did meet Bodie's blasted bleeper or hers always seemed to call them away in the middle of dinner - or whatever! Doyle, ever the romantic, was keen to encourage the relationship – it certainly seemed good for Bodie. Not only did the friendship widen his horizons, but he also seemed to grow as a person. Doyle too was recovering from his injuries following that dreadful assignment. Bodie had been shocked when he'd seen the state of his partner at the time but pleased that he was able to walk in a straight line quicker than Bodie had. Doyle had returned to work too soon and Cowley, being short-handed, had accepted him back too quickly. Bodie had said that if the only time off they got was sick leave, then they should still grab it with both hands and hold on as long as possible. Leave was leave whatever title it laboured under.

Doyle invited them round for dinner one evening a few weeks after Bodie had left hospital. Esther hadn't seen Doyle since Bodie had been discharged, when he'd been an almost daily visitor at Bodie's bedside, so was keen to catch up with him as she'd only known him under the stress and anxiety of Bodie's illness. Bodie usually tried to keep conversations away from work topics, but had mentioned Ray once or twice to Esther and commented that dinner at Doyle's was a rare treat not to be missed. So she was looking forward to it. Doyle was warm and relaxed when they arrived, and a lovely aroma of cooking permeated the flat. It was the first time she'd been there and saw that, rather than the crummy bachelor pad she'd expected, it was airy, neat and clean.

Doyle had a deep cough which he didn't seem to be able to shake off, but was still turning up for work and putting in his dangerous missions and long hours – even without his trusty partner by his side. Esther asked if he was ok and he just said that he was getting over a chest cold. "First I've heard of it," Bodie commented. Doyle said that Bodie had been noticeably absent from HQ and had been dragging his heels at returning, so wouldn't have noticed if he, Doyle, had developed smallpox in the meantime. "Look at me," he continued, "keen as mustard to get back into harness, Bodie, while you're swinging the lead. Even Cowley's forgotten what you look like any more." Bodie told him not to exaggerate, and that returning to work too early when he could be bunking off was not just crazy but masochistic. Despite or perhaps because of the banter dinner was a delicious success. However, Esther couldn't shake off her professional anxiety when hearing the deep rumble of Doyle's chest.

It didn't take much to persuade her boyfriend to wangle a return visit to Restaurant Doyle the following week, and they found themselves seated at the table once more and treated to another culinary triumph. Ray's cough had worsened and Esther commented privately to Bodie that he looked drawn, feverish and had lost more weight (and she'd been concerned about his weight the first time) – to which Bodie had told her to stop fussing. Ray was eating, wasn't he? "You're like a copper," he added, "never off duty." Bodie had to concede though, watching Doyle walk across his field of vision, that his clothes were hanging more loosely and there was less energy in his step. Eventually, and privately, Esther managed to get Bodie on her side and between the two of them pushed Doyle towards the CI5 doctor. He'd been very concerned and concluded that Doyle had developed pleurisy due to stress and overwork. Bodie had wanted to know when the 'overwork' had actually happened, as he'd missed that bit! Doyle argued that if Bodie had actually undertaken any work at all this month, he'd have noticed. Esther, hearing the exchanges, smiled to herself and thought they were more like bickering brothers than colleagues.

Under medical supervision, Doyle had been forced to take time off again (much to Cowley's exasperation) and, with medication and lots of rest, had started to recover and put the weight back on. Even the weather was getting warmer and brighter. So much so, that Bodie declared that the three of them should take a picnic. He was back on light duty and Doyle tried (not too hard) not to look smug as he languished at home. Bodie and Esther had been trying to find a girl for Doyle but without much success. (Apart from a desperate and unemployed nurse, who'd want to take on a consumptive anyway Bodie had asked!) Ray said he was quite happy as he was – for the moment – and he could find his own female company thank you very much.

The day of the picnic was the hottest of the year so far. They couldn't have picked a brighter day. Ray and Esther had enjoyed doing some cooking the previous evening in preparation and it was Bodie's turn to be gooseberry. Bodie had placed his life in Doyle's hands often enough, so he could certainly trust him alone with his girl. Miraculously (in Bodie's book) this cooking somehow resulted in them also producing dinner at the same time. Rather than getting under their feet in the kitchen, Bodie had studied Doyle's music and book collections while he waited to be fed. He picked out some poetry for a change and persuaded Ray to read some verse after dinner. Doyle teased that Bodie had been reading too much Jane Austin to expect evening recitations, and perhaps they should have dressed more formally for the occasion with some musical accompaniment and genteel dancing to follow! However, Doyle caved in and agreed to read for them, but taking up Bodie's proviso that the poems shouldn't refer to either "Grecian urns or bloody nightingales!" So Doyle had been restricted to Lewis Carroll and Hiawatha, but said he'd find something else to read for the picnic. He didn't mind at all being occasional jester to the court of King Bodie and his lady. They were so good for each other.

After the picnic lunch that hot day, Doyle retired to a shadier spot nearby as the sun was giving him a headache. He'd found some narrative verse of Robert Service, which they'd all enjoyed, but he'd fallen asleep before he got to the end of "The Law of the Yukon". Esther got up and went over to him to take the book from his lifeless fingers and shift him into a more comfortable position. Bodie was stretched out on the blankets, soaking up the sun. He glanced over to the couple. He wasn't an imaginative man or given to flights of fancy, but it didn't take his drowsy mind much effort to picture Doyle in combats (which he'd seen him in during their training together) and Esther in military rather than State uniform. He imagined her tending to Ray as the wounded or fevered soldier. He wasn't sure whether she had put the back of her hand to Doyle's temple, or whether that too was in his imagination.

Ray was slowly recovering from his illness, his breathing easier, and that was a relief to them all. Bodie's heavy eyelids drooped. He heard Esther walk back over to him. Opening his eyes, he was rewarded with a brief flash of her knickers as she stepped over him to stretch out her long body at his side, thigh to thigh, hip to hip, chest to chest. "You spoil that boy," Bodie chastised softly, wrapping his arms around her thin waist. "Isn't he worth spoiling?" she asked. To avoid a reply, Bodie kissed her thoroughly and slid his hand down her spine. She reminded him that they were in a public place. "The boy's asleep," Bodie whispered looking across at his partner, whole and safe. "There is Jo Public walking around you know," she reminded him. He rolled his eyes and groaned resignedly. He hugged her and had to make do with kissing the top of her head. He stretched languidly in the heat – Esther in his arms, a full belly, and 'the boy' peacefully asleep nearby. Bodie sighed and thought to himself: life doesn't get much better than this. A bird started trilling from a bush nearby – he hoped it wasn't a bloody nightingale!

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