It was raining, a driving icy downpour as Doyle pulled up in front of Bodie's building and hurried inside. Even from that brief exposure he felt chilled to the bone and when his partner didn't immediately answer the doorbell, he used his key to go inside and start the kettle for tea. Bodie was still asleep and Doyle couldn't resist bending over him and vigorously shaking the rain from his curly mop.

The cold drops of water shocked Bodie awake and he bolted upright. "Bloody hell!"

Doyle retreated, laughing, to the kitchen, and was getting down the tea caddy when his partner came in. "Good morning, Bodie."

The dark-haired man glared. "You want to be more careful how you wake a bloke up. I might have broken something."

"From sitting up in bed?"

"I mean I might have broken something on you. Reflexes like a cat." Bodie shadowboxed up to his partner but was distracted by the sound of the kettle whistling. Doyle threw a punch at him and was disconcerted when Bodie caught his fist, smirking.

The curly-haired man pulled his hand back. "All right, mate, you've made your point." He spooned tea into the teapot and poured water in, then sat down. "Got a spare mac?"

Bodie looked out the window, then went into the bedroom and came back with two raincoats, tossing one to Doyle. "You couldn't see it was raining when you left?"

"It started while I was driving." Doyle poured the tea and sipped the hot liquid, sighing with satisfaction. "What's for breakfast?"

Bodie sat across from him. "Toast."

"You must have something more than that!"

"Actually I've been meaning to go to the grocery." Bodie drank some tea.

"Bodie, I'm starving," said Doyle plaintively. "Let's go somewhere."

"Do we have time?"

"Don't you remember?" The curly-haired man finished his tea. "We don't have to be in until nine-thirty. We're delivering that witness to court at ten."

"Oh, right." Bodie gulped his tea, took the cups to the sink, and left the room. He was back in five minutes, dressed and ready to go, and they went out into the pouring rain.

Doyle drove slowly, peering through the mist, and was annoyed when a car cut him off. "Some people don't know how to drive." His irritation turned to concern as the car kept going across his path, right up onto the pavement and into a streetlight. He pulled up to the curb and hurried to the car.

Bodie was right beside him, opening the car door and leaning in. The driver was a woman in late middle age, slumped over the steering wheel, and when Bodie gently raised her head, he saw that her face was smeared with blood. He lifted her out and took her over to Doyle's car while his partner got in to switch off the ignition and set the parking brake.

Doyle returned to the car to find his partner in the back seat with the woman. "Did you call an ambulance?"

Bodie shook his head. "Let's just take her to hospital ourselves. Charing Cross is only a couple of blocks away."