Archive of Our Own

He Comes Bearing Gifts

By Donato

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“Come on Doyle, time to get up.”

Doyle opened one eye, seeing his annoying berk of a partner standing over him smiling broadly and dressed from head to toe in his usual black, could only grunt a “bugger off” in reply.

“Now, now. Is that any way to greet your long-suffering partner? It is a glorious day out there and I have plans of supping at a great little pub I know of which serves one of the best brews this side of the Hadrian Wall. Maybe a slap-up pub lunch to round it all off. So, stop lollygagging and get up and at 'em, Sunshine. You've been in bed long enough.”

There was a determination in Bodie's voice that Doyle knew was not going to be swayed by either argument or reason. Giving out a loud sigh he finally opened both eyes and realised his day was going to be spent doing whatever Bodie had planned

He had to admit the day was one out of the box. The sun was warm against his skin and the previous chill he had felt down to his bones for the last couple of days was a memory of the past. A gentle breeze lifted a stray strand of his auburn hair across his face and rested on the bridge of his strong straight nose and tickled his eyelashes. He tucked his hair back into place only for the breeze to do it again. Out of exasperation he turned his face to the breeze so his hair would fan out behind him should it get caught by the warm current blowing across the distant hills. The same current was sweeping down causing a warm swathe of rippling grass in its wake and frolicking with the hanging tendrils of the weeping willows that were caressing the banks of the meandering stream in front of him.

He could hear Bodie approaching him. He knew his partner’s walk well. Bodie's black plimsolls crunched on the honey-coloured gravel beneath his feet. He stopped beside his partner looking at the view in front of them.

“Beautiful, isn't it?... Here get your lips around this.” Bodie thrust a full pint of best towards him.

“I've got it on good authority that their brew is out of this world.”

Doyle glanced over at Bodie and gave him a sceptical look.

“‘Tis true. The barmaid in there told me and she looks so angelic that I don't think she would know how to lie. Bottoms up.” Bodie then downed a good mouthful and wasn't disappointed as the amber fluid played a merry tune with his taste buds. “Cor, that’s a bit of alright, that is.” Bodie took another mouthful and relished the flavour all over again.

Doyle took hearty gulps and drew his hand across his mouth, when he came up for air, wiping the slight froth and lager away.

Doyle was looking across the open backyard towards the pub. He saw that this little place in the middle of nowhere seemed to have quite a few patrons. Groups of two to three people sat around the tables inside and some sat at the odd wooden cafe tables outside. The building was old but well maintained. The windows looked like mirrors in the bright sun. Huge baskets of flowers hung from the eaves and their scent lightly perfumed the air. Doyle prided himself on knowing a little about gardening, more than his partner who could kill a plastic plant. But no matter how hard he tried he could not identify the flowers that bloomed so brilliantly in the golden sun.

“I like this place. Seems like they all do too.” Doyle nodded to the other customers. “Who told you about this place?”

“I can't recall.” Bodie drained his pint and nodded at Doyle who had been a bit slow in the uptake. Doyle quickly downed the remainder of his drink and Bodie took his glass and offered to get them another, before turning and making his way into the cool interior of the pub. Doyle watched the sun making Bodie's black cap of hair shine almost bluey-black as the light hit it. How Doyle longed to thread his fingers through that hair. Feel its sun kissed warmth between his fingers. Hold that face between his hands and kiss those pouty lips. He nursed that image until Bodie returned and suggested they sit down at one of the tables as he had just ordered food which smelt divine.

Seated next to the stream, away from everybody, Doyle tried to shake off the imagery and hoped he had given nothing away to his partner of seven years. He set his face into a neutral visage and let his eyes wander away from the man opposite him and towards the stream. The water was clear with worn smooth stones at the bottom and long green strands of algae stretched out pushing forward in the current.

“A penny for 'em.” Bodie's voice broke his reverie. He lifted his head to take his fill of his partner before thanking Bodie for getting the second and the first round in now that he thought about it.

“Wasn't really thinking of anything. Just taking in the beauty around me.” It wasn't a lie, not completely, Doyle considered and gave Bodie one of his smiles which showed his teeth.

Bodie was mesmerised with that mouth. The full, clearly defined lips always reminded him of plump sweet juicy orange segments. He often imagined biting those lips and feeling Doyle’s flesh between his teeth yield to the pressure and release the pleasure that lay barely concealed beneath. No doubt if Doyle knew he would say he had a food fetish, after he had bashed him of course.

“You're beautiful.” Bodie sat there. Looking confident and solid in the chair. His arms resting on the table. His hands circling the base of the beer. He had never planned on telling his partner about his feelings for him, but he felt he had nothing to lose. Maybe it was the effect of the alcohol, the serenity of the place and the beauty that was everywhere he looked. He was looking at Doyle, his deep blue eyes sincere and true.

This was it, Doyle thought. The moment was here. His brave and stupid partner had broken into his deepest and darkest desires in just those two words. He had opened Pandora’s Box. He had a declaration to make. Which way would he go? To deny could be just as destroying to their friendship and partnership as it would be to acknowledge. What if he was just as true and brave and then things didn't work out. Their friendship and possibly partnership, no not possibly but certainly, would be over. He knew Bodie. Knew that he buried his hurts deep and wore a mask which he showed to the world while he slowly healed. He could not do that to the man who he loved. Had loved for a few years now. Love was a valuable commodity and not often found and very often abused. He could see Bodie already building the shutters around his emotions. He had been quiet for too long as his thoughts slammed into his brain making him reel from one aspect to another. He put his hand over Bodie's.

“Don't! Do not shut me out! I'm thinking. I am trying to decide if I should be brave or take the coward’s way out.... I love you Bodie.... Guess, I decided to be brave after all. You deserve honesty from me. I’ve loved you for years. You balance me out. You’re always there for me. You drive me crazy, but I love that about you too. I can never say no to you Bodie.” Doyle ran his hand through his ruffled curls and now it was his turn to wait while Bodie assimilated Doyle’s words.

Doyle did not have long to wait before a large smile spread across his partner's face.

“I see you can't resist the Bodie charm. I told you I was tall, dark and handsome.”

“You forgot engagingly modest, ya berk.” There was a smile in Ray's voice as he spoke.

“I love you too.” Bodie replied with the same lightness.

“Yeah.”

“Yeah.”

Bodie went in to kiss him but Doyle moved his upper body away, leaning further back into his chair.

“Not here in public, Bodie! There are people present and we might upset their sensibilities!”

“Too soon? I cannot wait to taste your lips, Ray, let alone ravish your delectable body. I promise you I will definitely kiss you before the end of the day and bring you to such heavenly delights that you won't know what's hit you.”

“Well, that's alright then.” Doyle lifted his pint and drank to re-wet his mouth. It felt suddenly dry.

“No more women?” Bodie asked in a serious tone.

“That won't be hard. They never were my first choice.”

“Eh?” Bodie spluttered on his drink. “I had you pegged as the marrying kind. Wife, 2.4 kids and a dog playing in the yard.”

“Nah, not my scene. I had to keep up appearances, but truth be told I'm gay by nature and straight for necessity.”

“But you were gonna marry Ann Holly! What was that all about then?” A confused Bodie asked his soon to be lover.

“I thought I loved her. She did me a favour dumping me, really. I was livin' my life to the ideals and expectations of everyone around me. But I realised that their expectations was not my reality. I had to be true to myself. I could not live a false life to keep their perceptions true. I think the pain I felt was from how deep I had lost myself in living up to their preconceptions about me, having to be something or someone that I wasn’t. I was relieved it was over at the end of the day.”

“Holy crap, Ray! I had no idea. You had me fooled.”

“That's why I'm better at undercover work than you. But what about you? I had you pegged as straight. Claire, Marikka, Jenny, Susan, the list goes on. Doyle was waving his hand in the air to emphasize his point. “Your little black book is a trilogy, mate!”

“I'm bi. I just feminise blokes’ names. Andrew becomes Andrea. Gets tricky if you actually then go out with an Andrea later.”

“Did that ever happen?”

“Yeah, once. Got quite a shock when Michelle answered in a deep throaty baritone. Thought I had got away with it, but Michael recognised my voice, so I set up a date with him to save face, and the next night I had a date with Michelle.”

Both men laughed at the situation that Bodie had landed himself in.

“Sounds like you. Never one to waste an opportunity. You can turn a sow’s ear into a silk purse, you can.”

“Not quite the saying, Raymondo. But I get your meaning.”

“I don't think I can keep my love for you hidden. The guys at work will quickly suss us out; not to mention Cowley. He is a wily old fox and will know instantly. He wrote the book on reading subtexts. Not only that but he knows I'm gay.” Doyle played with the coaster twiddling it between his fingers.

Seeing Bodie arch his eyebrow in question he continued, “I told him when he was interviewing me. I felt he knew already, just wanted to see if I would be honest with him. He told me to be discreet, but he would not tolerate any dalliance with men on his team. I promised him and then he sent you in as my partner. It has been torturing for the last few years. When I first saw you, my heart did a triple jump of delight. I was infatuated with you for at least a few weeks but then your arrogance and one-upmanship soon put paid to any feelings I had. Eventually I came to understand you and respect you and realised a relationship with you would only muddy the waters, possibly even ruin our friendship and partnership, and I didn’t want to lose that. What we’ve got is special. We are the best partners in CI5. But now, well, now it's different. I want someone in my life. I want to be who I am and not have to pretend anymore. Cowley be damned!” Doyle threw the coaster down on the table and picked up his pint and drank until the dryness in his throat was gone.

“He knows I'm bi. I tried to hedge around it at my interview, but he already knew too. I blame my old boss from the Paras for that bit of news getting to Cowley's ears. Never have a romantic involvement with your Commander. Comes back to bite you in the bum later when things go South.”

“What did he say to you about, you know, being bi and all?”

“Same as you. I was expecting condemnation but instead he showed surprising acceptance and warned me off from using CI5 as a dating pool. Spouted off about the non-fraternization rule. Said that he had the power to fire me should I bring any disruption to CI5 with broken hearts of agents littering his floor. Seems I got a bit more of a rollicking than you. I'd love to know what my old Paras Commander said 'bout me. Figured it was bad all the way through. Was surprised when Cowley reached out and shook my hand welcoming me to CI5. I've been discreet ever since. The men I’ve slept with had never heard of CI5. How would you feel if the Cow does throw us out of CI5, mate?”

“We're both still young, qualified in security and bein' bodyguards and setting up ops etc. I think there would be other avenues for us to explore. We could start up a business offering security and protection services to highflyers or political types. We don't even need to stay in that line of work. I’d like to be able to help people. Do something worthwhile, make a difference in people’s lives. I could go to Uni and study child psychology or social work. Help kids in bad situations. I've got some money put aside to help me through and a lover willing to support me.” Doyle made a point of looking directly at Bodie on his last comment.

“Oh, who’s that then?”

“Berk!” Doyle nudged Bodie's shoe and then returned Bodie's smile.

“What about you, love? What will you do if we're given the heave ho from CI5?”

“I've got a very tidy sum put away from my merc days. Wasn't a lot to spend it on over there and one of the old hands in the group, Vince was his name, anyway he told me save up me money ‘cos I won't always be running around the bush in Africa. Time would come when I’d lust after a normal life and money would be my biggest ally. Those few words resonated with me and for once I listened to my elders and followed their wisdom. He bought it a week later with a bullet meant for me.”

Bodie's eyes looked away to the weeping willows and Doyle could have sworn he was blinking away wannabe tears. He gave his friend time to gather himself together. It was into this silence that the barmaid brought their food to the table. A platter of cold meats, cheese, fruit, bread and chutneys sat on a large wooden board. Her other hand laid two plates with knives down beside the platter.

“Thanks, love. We'll have another refill too please.” Bodie held up his empty pint glass to the lass and Doyle nodded his agreement. He decided not to drain the dregs, opting instead to leave room for a fresh pint.

“This looks good. Eat up, sunshine.”

“Where's the pie ‘n’ chips you normally go for? You don't look sick to me.”

“I didn't feel like anything heavy. Thought you may not be up to it either so I thought this would tie us over nicely till dinner time. Hear they do a great steak ‘n’ kidney pie or roast beef with all the trimmings. Saw their dessert board, didn't I? I'm planning on having a decadent slice of black forest gateau soaked in kirsch with morello cherries and whipped cream for afters. It’s nice here. Not in a rush to leave, are you?”

“No, it’s a nice change of pace.” Doyle watched as Bodie looked at the food with glee. “You're a gannet! How you survived in Africa with your appetite, I'll never know.”

“It's all about going for what you desire and doing so in moderation.” Then a large bite of crusty bread, cheddar, thick cut ham and pickle disappeared into Bodie's mouth making him look like a lopsided chipmunk. He let out little mmms of delight as he happily chewed away.

Doyle plucked a grape and popped it into his mouth. Biting down and feeling the juice squirt onto his tongue. The flesh was plump and solid, and the taste was sweetness and light. He pulled a few more and munched quite happily. He was a little bit wary of going for anything too heavy. He had a dull ache around his tummy button and had been rubbing the area at times, but the ache would not go away. He would need to slow down on the drinking too. He did not know what the pain was, but in case it ended up with him being sick all over the grounds, he didn’t really want to risk it.

“You not eatin'?” Doyle picked up a slice of apple and Bodie just smiled and picked up his knife to cut another wedge of cheese, “More for me, then.” He got back to consuming the food in quick order.

Two more pints of best were placed by their plates and Bodie gave the girl a wink before she walked away.

Doyle finally picked up some bread and piled on some ham with a bit of everything on it. The first bite did not disappoint. His appetite awoke and soon he was battling Bodie over various condiments.

“It's nice this, just sitting here, enjoying the sunshine, lazing the day away with good food, drink and company. I could get use to this.” Ray lifted his golden hued skin to the sun and soaked up its heat and radiance.

“I like the idea of us moving on. I think the time has come for a change. It is getting harder and harder to keep in tip top shape. Sometimes I feel older than my bones. I'm gonna miss the old man tho'. But I don't think he can change his stance on the non-fraternization rule just because of us, even if we are his best agents and you his blue eyed boy.” A wistful Doyle spoke out into the warm air. He was not looking at Bodie. Didn't want to see what his reaction might be, in case it shattered his hopes with a future with Bodie. Bodie had always looked upon Cowley like a father. It was okay to talk about these things and making plans but once reality hit and you started putting actions to words, it was another matter entirely. Suddenly unsure of Bodie's resolve he had to look, had to see for himself where his partner come lover stood. Did Bodie have the resolve to stand by his words?

The man in question looked no different than he had when they first got here. He gazed into those deep blue eyes and waited.

“I think he'll come to terms with it in time. Time is a wonderful thing. It heals many a loss and hopefully brings with it acceptance. We must be true to ourselves, as you so aptly mentioned before. We have dilly dallied long enough, and I think George will come to realise that we gave him our best, but something far greater beyond our control demanded we couldn't stay. We can still pop in to see him from time to time. Catch up with the others too while we're there.”

“God, I can just imagine the gossip about us in the rest room with the guys. Anson will have a field day.”

“Yeah, but it won't last for long. Give it time and we'll be yesterday's news.” Bodie shifted in his chair. He was getting a numb bum. “What about your family, Ray? Apart from your sister migrating to New Zealand and marrying a Kiwi, you never mention them much. How will they cope with you coming out as gay?”

“I used to be part of a family. Mum was a strict Catholic. She would drag us off to church every Sunday. She'd go several times during the week as well. Most disappointed, she was, when I did not become an altar boy. You may laugh but it was her dream. She wanted me to be a priest. No good Catholic family was without a priest in the family somewhere. Dad, well Dad was a different kettle of fish. He came from a family of hard-working, dirt-poor farmers in Ireland. He was extremely strict and stern with us. Your time was not to be wasted playing in the street or being truant from school. He and Mum migrated over to England from Ireland to have a better life. Found that the English were not keen on giving an Irish immigrant work back in the day, so he was often out of work. He had more jobs than I had had hot meals by the time I was five. Then he landed a job as a labourer for a construction firm.

“When I was about fifteen, he came home early one day and caught me with my pants down. Would not have been so bad if I were masturbating but Luke from two doors down was on his knees sucking me off. Dad screams bloody murder. Luke hightailed it out of there. Never saw him run so fast. I was still trying to pull me pants up when Dad hits me into next week. Laid into me something wicked. Broke my cheekbone,” Doyle tapped the plastic prosthetic that gave his face a distinctive roguish look. “Broke three ribs and bruised me lung. Woke up three days later in hospital. I found out later it was me Mum that called the ambulance after she got back from church an hour later. The bastard was downstairs drinking himself into oblivion and left me for dead, bleeding and unconscious laying in me own blood.

“She came to see me, later like, in hospital. She didn't even sit down. She stood at the end of my bed wringing her hands, wearing her old tweed coat with the cuffs fraying, and her handbag over her arm and told me never to come back. That I was no longer their son. I thought that she was the messenger for the ol' man, saying his words but I saw her one day about a year later. I was hanging out in a mall with the gang I was in thick with at the time. She saw me and the look on her face... total disgust, like she had eaten a lemon or stepped in dog pooh. She turned and walked away. I knew then that they were her words too. I left Derby not long after and came to London. Vicky was wise to get away to New Zealand. Met some Kiwi bloke from Dad's work. Went to New Zealand with him and later married him from what I heard. I don't even know her married name. I tried to find her by using resources at work once, but got nowhere. So effectively I have no family. Until today. Now I have you. You are my family. Since we seem to be confessing all here. How about you and your family. I know nothing about them.”

“Not much to tell. I was brought up, if you could call it that by me Mam. She never did know who my father was. Told me one day it could have been one of three men. A William, an Andrew and yes, you guessed it, a Phillip. She named me after them hoping to get them to cough up money. They, like all the men in her life buggered off quicker than Concorde on speed. She also liked to drink. Was a nasty drunk, she was. I learnt at an early age never to ask again about me Dad. She clipped me around the head whenever I asked. Said I was no better than the scum that got her pregnant and she wished she had aborted me. So, I reinvented myself when I was old enough. I tell everyone that I was named after royalty as it seemed more palatable than the truth and more fitting for the new life I was trying to forge. Left home at fourteen and stowed away on a cargo ship. Didn’t know where I was going to, but anywhere was better than being at home being beaten and verbally abused by ya Mam.

“I was a big lad at fourteen and was even needing to shave by then, not often mind you, but at least twice a week. Learnt a lot on that ship. Learnt about rape and how to fight. Learnt how to survive by my wits alone and do a nice right upper cut. Jumped off at Dakar, and through various people, became a mercenary where the skills and experiences on board the ship prepared me for surviving 'the game.'”

At Doyle's blank look Bodie explained 'the game' to him, where the loser of a fight was raped by the winner. Doyle’s eyes widened and then a sadness settled into the green orbs as he imagined the pain and suffering his friend had endured at such a young age, with no one to look out for him, let alone, care about him.

“Spent time in a Congo jail, which was no picnic, and perfected my survival instincts. Broke out during a prison riot. Made my way back to England and put my skills to good use by joining the Army. Good way to build a respectable past is the Army. All my sins happened overseas where record keeping is patchy or are hard to obtain. I was lucky in that respect. It also helped that I didn’t use my real name. Another trick I learnt. My past is murky and I'm not proud of it, but it shaped me and made me the man I am today.”

“We make a fine pair. Both of us not wanted or loved. Both of us wanting someone to love.”

“Very profound, sunshine.” Bodie squirmed in his seat again. “I fancy going for a walk. I'm getting stiff sitting here and me bum’s gone all numb.”

“Yeah, sounds like a plan. Need to walk off the lunch.”

The two men walked over to the bank of the stream and followed its meandering path. Sunlight dappled through the trees sending its long reaching beams across the babbling stream turning the water silver where they hit. Birds were singing and flitting between the branches. Some of the longer tendrils of the weeping willows skated across the top of the water and gracefully swayed in the current.

Soon they found themselves close to a white bridge spanning the stream. A couple stood there tightly embraced and their lips caught in a passionate kiss. Feeling like a voyeur Bodie suggested they turn back and explore the other end. In agreement the two men retraced their steps and walked beyond the table they had sat at earlier and continued following the babbling water.

The silence between them was broken by Doyle expressing how nice it was here.

“Do you ever think you could leave all the hustle and bustle of the big city life behind, Ray? Live in the countryside?”

“Can't see why not, was born in the country. We moved to Derby when I was five. Used to have lots of fun looking for guppies or frogs in the creek, picking field mushrooms, sliding down Mr Coombs’ steep paddock on some plastic.” Doyle laughed as a long-forgotten memory sprang to mind. “Vicky took the shower curtain one day. Sneaked it out of the house and we went to Mr Coombs’ field and slid down the hill several times until the curtain tore right in half. We got back home and, Vicky being older and taller than me, hung it back up hoping no one would notice. We both couldn't sit down for a week after Dad got home and Mum showed him the curtain.

“Nights in the countryside are good too. They are darker. No streetlights, see. Quieter too, no cars whizzing past all times of the night. Just like here. Haven’t heard a car since we've been here. They were good days in the country. Made me childhood a good’un. Course my parents found it tough with little to no money, but, as kids, you don't know 'bout things like that. As long as there was a puddle to jump in and a tree to climb and Mr Coombs’ field, then life was good.”

“Sounds very bucolic, Raymondo.”

“Don’t knock it till you try it, mate. Nothing wrong with living in the country. People look out for each other more in the country. I ‘spose I associate it with innocence and happiness. Then you grow up and realise that somewhere along the way you have lost that innocence, and happiness is harder to find. Sad things to lose, really, but then when they come into your life, fleeting as they may be, it makes you appreciate them even more.”

“So, you could leave behind the big smoke and live in a cottage in the countryside?”

Affecting a Scottish accent Doyle tipped a pretend cap on his head, “Riddle the Aga eve'y morn an' coddle me sum eggs. Aye, tha' would be a grand start ta eve'y morn 'n all.”

“That's a fine West Country accent you've got there, my son.”

“Get away with ya, ya great lummox.” Bodie got a poke in his ribs from a very pointy and bony Doyle elbow. “I’ve always fancied retiring to the country. Havin’ a vegie garden, a few chooks runnin’ round.”

“Well, you’re certainly dressed for the part.”

Doyle looked at his well-worn trainers, faded jeans and a t shirt that had seen better days. Bodie, on the other hand, was dressed from head to toe in his statement black. His polo neck hugged closely to his chest and it was not hard to see it was all muscle underneath. His corduroys fitted snuggly to his long muscular legs and highlighted the swell over his crotch. The ensemble was finished off with black plimsolls that looked new, but Doyle knew they weren’t. It reminded Doyle of their early years together when he thought Bodie was auditioning for a model agency.

“What about you, then? Where do you see yourself living out your retirement, should we live that long?”

“I can see myself living by the sea. The sound of the waves lulling you to sleep at night. I like that the sea is changeable. Responds to the season and the moon. Sometimes I am floored at the knowledge that the water that laps at our feet has been to shores far and wide and renews itself through evaporation and condensation. I like how it goes from one state of mass to another but is always intrinsically water. It’s quite extraordinary.” Bodie was quiet for a while appearing to look in the distance at nothing. “At the end of the day, I’ll settle for a good local that makes a good brew like this and I’d be a happy man with you by my side.’’

Doyle looked into Bodie’s eyes and thought he saw a glimmer of sadness flash through his azure blue eyes. His eyes were hypnotising. Glancing around, he saw they were far enough away from the pub and any strollers out for a walk. He stepped up to Bodie and, placing his hands either side of his lover’s head, with his fingertips just touching the short black hair, he brought his lips to meet Bodie’s. He could feel Bodie’s initial shock and then acceptance until Bodie was responding with a passion and fervour quickly matched by Doyle. Their arms embracing each other, pulling together, joining not only their bodies but their hearts as one. When the kiss ended Bodie rested his forehead on Doyle’s warm curly hair, their skin flushed and lips kiss swollen.

“Blimey! That was a bit of alright!” Doyle said while they were still clasped around each other. His breath ghosting over the front of Bodie’s neck.

An elderly couple suddenly appeared over the crest of the small rise making their way towards them. Ray spied them first and quickly dropped his arms from Bodie and took a bigger step back. Sensing that they were not alone anymore Bodie followed suit. Bodie nodded his head as the couple passed them by.

“I can’t wait to do that again and more. Wait till I get you home, Raymondo.” The romantic moment was lost when Bodie’s stomach gave out a loud rumble. “How’s ‘bout we head back and have another pint?’’

They sat at a different table upon their return and Bodie shunned Doyle’s offer to pay. "I brought you here, I’ll shout you. You can do the shouting another day.”

Doyle watched Bodie as he went inside. He noticed that new people had arrived and others had gone. Thoughts of running a pub whistled through his mind. He knew the day of being too old for the streets was fast approaching and, even though Bodie was younger by a couple of years, he too would be out of a job. Neither one of them was a desk man so maybe it was time to move on. Live their dream and get into something they both enjoyed. He was still mulling this over when Bodie announced his arrival by slopping some beer over his arm as he lowered the glasses on the table.

“Sorry ‘bout that… Cheers, mate.” Bodie had settled himself into his seat and was bringing the glass up to his lips.

Doyle felt a tug on his stomach. His hand went to rub his abdomen but as quickly as it had come it went.

“You alright, Goldilocks?”

Doyle nodded and went for his drink. “What you think about running a pub?”

“Lotta hard work for not much money. Long hours, dealing with drunks and underage drinkers. Far too dangerous. I think I prefer to visit a pub than run one. What, you thinking of what we could do after CI5? I wouldn’t worry too much; I think something far better will be in our future.”

They downed several more pints and a glass or two of whiskey and, amazingly enough, Doyle didn’t even feel tiddly let alone drunk. His stomach had been making itself more known from time to time but that was all.

“Bodie, love of my life, the apple of me eye, have you been getting me non-alcoholic beer all day?”

“That’d be sacrilege! I wouldn’t do that to you, let alone myself.”

Doyle realised that Bodie wasn’t drunk either. They had drunk a good number of pints and some rather large whiskies to boot. Their lunch wasn’t that substantial to soak it all up. Not quite believing his partner, he decided that he would get the next round in. Not that he wanted to get drunk, but experience had shown him from past imbibing that, by now, he should be on his ear. Quickly finishing off his drink, he rose from the table and offered to get them the same again.

He watched the barmaid pull two pints from the brass pumps for other clientele and enquired about the alcoholic content which the barmaid assured him was five percent. They had a master brewer who had perfected the art of taking out the impurities and, in doing so, there were fewer hangovers. As he went to pay, Celeste, the barmaid told him that his friend had made a tab and she would just add it to that. Bodie was right on all counts, the beer was alcoholic, and the barmaid did indeed look like she was the embodiment of an angel. She flicked her long golden blonde wavy tresses behind her ear, and it showed her slender neck and milky white skin offset by her amber eyes and red lips. Not an angel, Doyle thought, more like Botticelli’s Venus. Striking up a conversation with Celeste, he found that she had worked there for as long as she could remember, and it was a family run business. Her father was the master brewer and distiller. Her mother did the cooking and everything, including the bread, was made on site. Smells of meat cooking wafted through the air making Doyle’s mouth water in response. He saw the menu board that Bodie had commented on and placed an order for their dinner. It was getting close to dinnertime for Bodie’s stomach and he suddenly realised he was ravenous. Celeste was finally able to pull their pints and after a brief smile that lit up her face, left him to see to other customers. Only a few tables remained free.

“If the food tastes as good as it smells, we’re in for a treat. Celeste said dinner won’t be long. Even without the food, I’d like to come back here one day.”

“I promise you, sunshine, I’ll bring you here again in the not-too-distant future. How does that sound?”

“You are making a lot of promises today, mate.”

“For you I’d promise my last breath. You mean that much to me, always have and always will.”

Soon two plates of succulent meat, a wide selection of roast and steamed veges and lashings of meat enriched gravy were placed in front of them by an older woman, Celeste’s mother, Doyle surmised as the family resemblance was undeniable.

They both agreed the food was good, exceptionally good and for several minutes only the sounds of two men eating with relish could be heard. Bodie’s dessert came next with Doyle opting to forgo anything sweet. He did manage to finagle a spoonful of the black forest gateau and found it far too sweet and decadent for his liking. Bodie, however, was in his element. His sweet tooth satisfied.

They had been there several hours by Doyle’s reckoning and he was still looking at a bright sky with no lessening of the sun. His body was feeling tired. A slow lethargy that had been creeping in him before their meal arrived was settling in and making him feel heavy. Bodie, seeing the lassitude in his mate, commented that maybe it was time they were heading back as he still had a few things to do before the day was out.

“I hate to admit it mate, but I’m feeling like the alcohol and the meal have hit with a vengeance. I don’t know where all my energy has gone to. I think I need a good night’s sleep before work tomorrow. Knowing our luck, the Cow will have us chasing up on the Connors case and running all over Greater London.”

“We don’t have work tomorrow, Ray.” Bodie’s voice was low and there was a sadness tinging his words, Doyle thought.

“Eh, what ya talking about? We were following up leads and had a hot tip catching the bastard. I can’t see the ol’ man leaving that for a day or two. I’m amazed we aren’t chasing it up today, now that I think about it.”

Bodie’s whole demeanour changed, and he took Doyle’s hand in both of his and leaned across the table.

“I haven’t been totally honest with you, sunshine.” Bodie took a deep breath and stared hard into unflinching jade green eyes. He could see the flickering of Doyle’s irises, so intent was the stare.

“We haven’t got work tomorrow or any other day for that matter.”

Doyle looked more confused than ever.

“I haven’t started this well and I don’t quite know how to start it, to be honest. I thought by settling various aspects of our lives it might make it easier for what I’m about to tell you. Maybe if I had more time, I could have done a better job. Thought things through more and hopefully prepared you for what I’m about to say.”

Doyle could feel his heart speeding up. Bodie’s tone and the words he was saying were scaring him. He had never seen Bodie look so earnest and serious before. Whatever it was, it had to be big and very, very, grave. The bonhomie of only a few minutes ago had gone.

“What are you trying to tell me, Bodie? Spit it out. Whatever it is, it can’t be that bad.”

“Do you know how we got here?”

“What’s that got to do with it, Bodie? Sure, you drove us in in your car.”

“Did I?”

Consternation did not look well suited on Doyle’s face. Doyle realised he couldn’t remember them driving here. No traffic or stopping at lights, no passing scenery, no chattering in the car. His mind went blank when he tried to think how they had got here. And where exactly was here. Bodie had just said a mate had told him about it, hadn’t he. He hadn’t heard any other cars come or go and yet there’d been many customers coming and going. So how had they got here? He started to feel scared. Not wanting to admit that to himself, as not much in life really scared Doyle. Apart from a stoppage in a shootout or Bodie being killed because he couldn’t protect him, he was pretty much unflappable.

“I don’t, no, I can’t remember! How did we get here, Bodie? Did I sleep all the way here? I was dead tired this morning when you woke me up.”

Bodie gave out an unexpected laugh. “You’re half right, more than you know.”

“Bodieee!!!!” Doyle was reaching the end of his patience very quickly with Bodie playing all these games with his mind.

“Sorry, love. I’m not tryin’ to make this hard but what I’m about to tell you isn’t going to be easy. Before I begin, I need you to know that I’m sorry and that I don’t blame you, you’re not to feel guilty for what I’m about to say. I know you Doyle and you seem to like wearing guilt as much as those tight jeans and unbuttoned shirts of yours. But this was not your fault. If the blame is to go anywhere, it’s on Connors.”

“Jesus, don’t tell me I stuffed up the Connors op and Cowley put us on suspension. We were on the verge of breaking the case.”

Bodie, seeing Celeste bringing food to another table, caught her attention and asked for two large whiskeys. “We are gonna need something a little stronger than beer for this.”

Celeste promptly returned with two tumblers filled with whiskey.

“Doyle, please just let me finish. Once I’m done, I promise you, everything will fall into place.” Bodie took a long draught from the whiskey in front of him. “You may need to bolster your nerves for this part, Ray.” Bodie let his eyes drop to the untouched glass of pure malt in front of Ray.

“We were chasing Connors. We had him bang to rights with all the information and photos of him with Paddy Byrne. The hot tip led us to the cache of arms and explosives. He had enough to blow up half of London. We tracked him down and there was a shootout, but he escaped by car, so we followed him. You were driving. I was telling you to go faster. One of Connors henchmen blew out our windscreen.” Bodie stopped and took a rather large mouthful of whiskey, he looked pale and his face showed small lines of strain. Doyle copied his partner and drank the amber liquid until it settled in his stomach and the warmth replaced the burn.

“I died instantly, the bullet that took out the windscreen lodged in my head;” Bodie pointed to a spot just above his left eyebrow, “I was dead before I knew it. It was quick, I never suffered, Ray. I need you to know that.”

Doyle shot his chair back in shock. He didn’t believe what Bodie had just told him. It couldn’t be true. If he were to believe Bodie then he had spent a day with a dead man! A ghost! Bodie must be playing a really sick joke on him. He had never known Bodie to lie to him or to play such cruel and perverse jokes. Sure, he had pulled pranks on him before, but they had all been fun and harmless. Always aimed at making Doyle the butt of some joke. But there was nothing funny about this and there was no one else here that they knew to make the joke worth playing.

“Bodie,” quietly said and in a shaky voice, “are you saying that I’ve spent a day with a ghost?”

“That’s one way of looking at it. I prefer the word ‘Soul’ or ‘Spirit’. It has a nicer connotation to it. But right now, that’s not what’s important. That’s not why we’re here.”

Feeling like he was standing on shifting sand, he mirrored Bodie’s action and the two men took another mouthful of whiskey.

“This morning I entered the ICU where your body is currently on life support. Your soul is still connected to your body through a cord from your umbilicus, like a baby connected to the placenta. That’s the pain you’ve been feeling all day. It’s your soul gently pulling itself away from your corporeal body. When the time is right, it will go completely and then you’ll be free.”

“You mean dead!”

“Yeah. Dead like me! After the bullet killed me, I fell onto you and made you crash the car at full speed into a concrete wall. You sustained an irreparable head injury, Ray, several broken bones and a ruptured spleen from a piece of broken rib. The doctors have performed emergency surgery, removed your spleen and stabilised you while they get everything in order.”

“In order! What do you mean, 'in order'?”

“Seems someone had a donor’s card in their wallet. You made Cowley your next of kin and he gave his consent.”

Doyle could remember doing that. He had had a conversation with Mr Cowley not long after joining CI5. He knew he was in a dangerous job where tomorrow was never guaranteed. He and Bodie weren’t getting on that well at that stage, being new to each other and finding that they often grated on each other’s nerves. He’d soon forgotten about it. A sense of invincibility had cloaked his earlier reasoning, as he and Bodie became the best agents at CI5.

“So, you’re saying I’m, what, half dead, brain dead as you say, and I’m just hanging around my body waiting for them to take out me organs!”

“You’ve got most of it right. You are brain dead, and yes, they are keeping you alive,” Bodie did little air quotation marks around the last word, “but you’re not really hanging around in the ICU with your body. You’re here with me.”

“And just where is here?”

“In layman’s terms, we’re in Limbo. I got to come back from Heaven to help you through. To help you adjust to all this since you were given the opportunity to accept it all and not have the shock of one minute being in your body and the next going through a white tunnel filled with light and finding yourself on the other side like what happened to me yesterday.”

“So, you’re like an Angel of Death, then?”

Bodie laughed loud and true. “No Angelfish, I was just dressed in black yesterday. I’m just a man bringing his friend, partner, lover and finally his family over to Heaven where we can be together forever.”

“So, this is Limbo! It’s vastly different to how I thought it would be. Never for once thought it would have a pub in it.” Doyle looked around and took in everybody. “All these people are dead or dying then.” More a statement than a question. “I need time to take it all in, Bodie. Do I have that time?”

“Some, you’re scheduled for retrieval surgery in less than two hours.”

“How do you know all this stuff about… about this?” Doyle waved his hand in the air.

“I went over yesterday and met my father and he told me a bit, the important bits I think, but enough to help me with this and some of it you gain when you’re dead. It’s like your soul knows it and when it’s released it comes to the fore, like a built-in guidebook that you know inside and out. You also gain a sixth sense with some things and can see little glimpses into the future.”

“Oh.” Doyle ruminated on what Bodie said. He would find out for himself soon enough if Bodie was to be believed. “Out of interest, which one was your Dad?”

Bodie’s eyes twinkled before replying, “Michael. Seems like Mum was too drunk to remember she had a one-night stand with another nameless man and hey presto, here I am. He seemed a nice bloke. Tall, dark, handsome and very debonair.”

“Just like you, you mean.”

“Well, we are the spitting image of each other.”

“Bodie, I think I want to go back and see for me self my body and all that. Is that possible?”

Doyle also wanted to see if what Bodie had told him was true. It all seemed a bit farfetched to him and he had in part been playing along with Bodie. He was trying to find the reason Bodie had said what he had as there was nothing funny about it. So far, he hadn’t been able to suss out Bodie’s motive. Maybe his joke would fall flat as Doyle had hopefully played him at his own game.

“Anything is possible, sunshine.”

Doyle stood in a cluttered cubicle in ICU at St Thomas’s Hospital. Doctors and nurses were gathered round the bed. One of the nurses moved and Doyle saw himself lying there. He gave out a gasp, his right hand clutched his chest and stepped back in shock. Bodie moved towards him and hugged him, letting him know he was there, that he wasn’t alone.

Doyle’s other self had a tube going into his mouth attached to a ventilator, and a large crepe bandage swaddled over his head. His face swollen, his skin looking starkly white and bloodless against the deep bruising over his body. A sheet was pulled up to just above his hips. There was a long dressing over his abdomen from the splenectomy and his previous scar from when May Li had shot him in the chest which was a light pink colour normally, but now looked a livid red against his pale skin. It took a moment for Doyle to realised that they had shaved his chest adding to the starkness of his exposed skin. They were all talking about life flights to Scotland and Wales. Two recipients Doyle learnt where in London and were already in hospital getting prepped for surgery later that evening. There were a bank of pumps delivering various medications into him. Everything was being closely monitored. Doyle had never seen so much attention been given to a dying man. Oddly, he felt nothing. He thought he would have felt something. A pang of despair or great sorrow at a life gone too soon and in its prime. But he felt nothing. His heart, his whole body felt like that moment when you plunge your hand in boiling water and for that moment you feel nothing and then, seconds later, your body responds to the pain and burning. He was caught in that moment before the synapses in his brain could receive, decipher and react to the stimuli. Bodie broke into his state of fugue.

“You, angelfish, are doing a wonderful thing. You are going to not only transform but save lives today. All up six people will receive your gifts and have their lives changed forever. Your corneas are going to restore sight to an eight years old girl, and a father of three children. A teenage boy is getting your liver. A mother of a two-week old baby is getting one of your kidneys while the other one goes to a man in his twenties. Your lungs are off to Scotland, as you heard, to a young woman in her thirties. The damage from when you got shot means that they couldn't use your heart, which is a pity because it’s a wonderful heart. Full of such great capacity to love and care for others, so fluent in kindness. It’s your greatest asset. In case you’re wondering, the transplants will all be successful and that young boy that gets your liver will go on to become a doctor and develop a cardiac procedure that will save millions of lives in years to come, in part, because you saved his life today.”

Doyle stood dumbfounded. There was so much to take in and so little time. He was transfixed as he felt a rush of emotions career and crash in his mind. How could Bodie be so cool about this. Where was the anger, the disbelief, the bargaining and all those other states of grieving before acceptance? It was like Bodie had jumped straight to the last stage and bypassed all the others.

“Why aren’t you angry at being dead? How can you be so… so accepting of all this?”

“Easy, really, when it’s finite and you can’t change it, you have to accept it and move on. ‘Sides, it’s only your earthly body that’s died. The real you, your soul, essence call it what you will, it goes on as you can see. So, do we really die if we are still a being? The way I see it we’re a bit like water. Just gone from one state to another but still the same.”

“You said we could pop in and see Cowley and the guys at work. How can we do that if we’re dead?”

“From what I can tell, bearing in mind I’m new at this, but, you will it. Just like I willed myself here this morning to help you to Limbo, then back here again. We can go see him now if you like. He’s sitting in the family room for ICU patients down the corridor.”

A lump came to Doyle’s throat thinking that the Cow cared that much to be there for Doyle’s last few hours. Before they knew it, they were standing in front of their former boss. He looked old and there were deep lines etched into his face making it look craggy. The harsh fluorescent lighting did him no favours and added to his advancing years. His eyes were red rimmed. He pulled out his once crisp white handkerchief and, lifting his glasses, he dabbed at his eyes as yet another tear fell upon his cheek. The handkerchief was wet and well used by the looks of it.

Pain. Doyle felt pain for the old man sitting away from the other couple sitting in the room. A doctor came in and the occupants all looked up. He called the couple and they left quickly following the doctor. Cowley sat alone and bowed his head, obscuring his face from Bodie and Doyle but not his emotions. A sob rendered from him and his shoulders heaved once, twice before he could get control again.

“He’s heartbroken, Bodie. I have never seen him cry. I never thought he’d cry over losing his agents, but s’pose it’s only natural all said and done. I feel so bad for him ‘cos we are the cause of his pain. It’s so palpable.” Doyle did not need to state the obvious but somehow having it said out loud bonded the two men in a moment of quiet respect for the man before them.

“He’ll recover. The pain will not be so bad given time. Time heals broken hearts and changes the sharp edge of grief into a soft ache of memories. Who knows, in time, when we have learned a bit more about our new state, I’m sure we can pop in and get him to feel our presence or even appear before him!”

“Probably give him a heart attack and have him up with us if we did that.”

“No, he’s got years of life ahead of him. He’ll outlive a few more agents before he retires. He has built a legacy here and we were part of that legacy. It’s something to be proud of.” Bodie put his arm around Doyle’s shoulder. “Where do you want to go now?”

“I don’t need to see me again. I want to stay here with Cowley and even if he cannot feel me, or you, at least we know that we are here giving him support. When will I know that I’m dead, Bodie, and free to go to Heaven?”

“When that ache in your stomach goes away. After that you’ll be able to move on.”

The two men sat down either side of Cowley and put their arms over his shoulders. The man moved slightly but otherwise gave no acknowledgement to their presence or actions. They sat there for some time before Murphy walked through the door. They all looked up to see who was coming in. Murphy stood stock still, the blood draining from his face. His mouth opening in shock. He was looking directly at Bodie who was nearest the door.

Bodie smiled at Murphy and said to Doyle, “I think he can see me, Ray.”

Murph nodded his head. He hadn’t moved from the spot. Gathering his wits, he walked over and pulled a chair in front of his boss and glancing several times to Cowley’s right kept seeing a smiling Bodie looking back at him. He never let on to Cowley that Bodie was sitting next to him. He advised the old-world weary man that Connors had been caught and sadly hadn’t survived Anson’s bullet in the shootout. Cowley gave a brief smile at that news and nodded his head.

“I know you wanted him alive, Sir, but he had me cornered, without ammo and Anson took the shot. It’ll all be in the report, Sir.”

“It’s quite okay, Murphy. He couldn’t have told us anymore than we knew already. Bodie and Doyle had unravelled all his operation and contacts and even found his cache and plans. They did a grand job and it cost them their lives. I’ll be nominating them for the George Cross. If it hadn’t been for them, we never would have solved the case. The plans they uncovered saved the Queen and the Royal Family from simultaneous bomb attacks across England. They saved the Monarchy and England from a fate I cannot even begin to fathom.”

Bodie gave out a low whistle. “Did you hear that, Ray? We saved the Royal Family. Now that’s an honourable thing to give your life for, don’t you think?”

“Not too shabby for a day’s work. Of all the medals, it had to be the George Cross.”

“S’pose there’s no getting away from George, even in death, eh!” Bodie gave a low chuckle.

Murphy’s head snapped to the left. His eyes wide and mouth hanging open again in surprise. Cowley had taken his glasses off to rub his tired and sore eyes and missed the movement of agent 6.2.

“Murph, if you can hear me, just nod your head once.” Doyle said.

Murphy did so and Bodie and Doyle looked at each other and realised they could say their last words to Cowley via Murph.

“Tell him we want to thank him for being a good and fair boss and an even better friend and father figure to us both. That we were honoured to have worked for him and CI5. That we wouldn’t change a thing, not even our last case. We didn’t feel any pain. We are happy now. We may just drop in from time to time to see how he’s doing. Just remember us fondly and with love. Oh, and to raise a glass or two of a fine malt in remembrance now and then. Tell him not to grieve for us as we are in a better place now and there is no reason to be sad.” Bodie squeezed Cowley’s shoulder to emphasise his last statement and Doyle just nodded his head in total agreement.

The look of sheer panic on Murphy’s face was priceless.

“I feel like I can sense they are here. Together. I know that sounds odd and even a bit strange, even with Doyle brain dead not four doors away and Bodie three floors down. But their presence feels so strong.” Murphy said to his boss.

“Aye, I thought so too. I could’ve sworn someone had put their arm over my shoulders. It’s still there. I like to think it’s them offering an old man comfort. Foolish, I know.”

Murphy cleared his throat and launched into a speech telling him about his gift and relayed everything that Bodie had said.

Cowley just sat there, not interrupting and giving nothing away. When Murphy had finished, he looked over to Bodie as if to say, you landed me right in it, mate.

The door opened and Cowley closed his mouth. He would tell Murphy later that he believed him. The Intensivist walked into the room. Doyle was under his care.

“Mr Cowley, I just wanted to inform you that we are taking Mr Doyle to theatre now. The procedure will take approximately two hours. You may like to get something to eat. The cafeteria is open and does quite a nice fish pie for dinner. I think if you go now, you may catch them before they close.” As he was talking to them, they saw Doyle being wheeled along in the bed with an entourage of medical staff maintaining his airway and ensuring the pumps did not get disconnected. It was a sombre sight.

“Thank you, Doctor. I’ll just sit here for a while longer. Can someone please inform me when it’s all over? I would appreciate it very much. By the way, his partner, a Mr Bodie is downstairs in the morgue, can they be placed side by side? I think they would appreciate that. They were remarkably close. I don’t think death should separate them now.”

A simultaneous lump came into Bodie and Doyle’s throats upon hearing the words spoken by their ex-boss about them. It was so touching and surprising to know that even in death, Cowley was thinking of them with such love and compassion. They knew with a certainty that Cowley would organise it for them to be buried side by side.

“That can be arranged on both counts. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go be with Mr Doyle.” The Intensivist gave a small nod to both men before turning and walking out of the room, leaving just the CI5 controller and his agent standing in a devastated quietness.

Murphy offered and then left to go get them a decent hot drink from an all-night café across the road, and hopefully meet up with Susan who had agreed to be there with a bottle of single malt for them all to help make the night more bearable. The three men sat there in silence, waiting for Murphy to return.

Susan entered first with Murphy right behind her. Her eyes were puffy and red rimmed, like Cowley’s. She was clutching her oversized handbag and went over to give Cowley a hug before pulling out a bottle of Glenfiddich. She spied a box of tissues conveniently placed on one of the tables. Being particularly fond of both Bodie and Doyle she walked up and brought the box of tissues over to where they all sat, for she knew they all would be using them as time went by.

“I don’t want to stay for this. I don’t know where I want to be instead, tho.” Doyle whispered to Bodie. He knew they couldn’t hear him, well, Murphy could, but he didn’t want to intrude on their grief.

“It’s alright, sunshine. I promised you I’d take you back to that pub and I always keep my promises.” Bodie took Doyle’s hand, they both said goodbye to the man that had teamed them together all those years ago. They then went over to Murphy and whispered in his ear asking that he look out for the old man and then thanked Murphy for being a great mate and not to grieve for them as they were happy and then they were gone. Cowley gave an involuntary shudder and re-adjusted himself in his seat and waited.

The sun was just as bright as Doyle remembered it. The branches of the willows swayed in rhythm to the gentle breeze. The birdsong was the only sound he could hear and the scent of the flowers permeated the ether. Doyle graced Bodie with a full toothed smile.

“Just realised that if this is Limbo then there would be no need for money, would there?”

Bodie looked abashed as he realised Doyle had twigged to his not so magnanimous act of shouting the food and drink earlier. The redness flushing Bodies face was answer enough.

“In that case, this is my shout.” Doyle sauntered into the bar and was met by Celeste.

Bodie was sitting quietly with his eyes closed and face tilted up into the warmth of the sun. The scraping of the chair against the patio startled Bodie out of his reverie. He watched as Doyle sat himself down and pulled his chair in closer to the table. Two pints of amber liquid glistened in the sunlight.

“How are you feeling, Sunshine, now that you know it’s not all a dream or a day off but our new reality?”

“You know, back there when we were first in that room looking at me in the bed and all the machines and people fussing over me, I didn’t quite know how I felt, or what I should be feeling. It was all so surreal. Like being in a state of suspended animation. But having seen it all through to just about the end, it was not as jarring as I thought it would be. I felt anger and regret that there was so much I hadn’t done and was denied the chance to do. But I’ve come to realise that they weren’t that important. I have the love of my life beside me. I’ve had the opportunity to say goodbye to Cowley and feel good that we completed our last job with resounding results. I don’t have any regrets dying…. Thank you for guiding me through all those things, they helped me accept my new existence. I was gonna say that life is good, but instead I’ll say the afterlife is good.”

“I’ll drink to that.” Bodie lifted his glass and raised it towards Doyle before tasting the best beer he had ever had in limbo. “Drink up sunshine, I can guarantee you there’ll be no hangover tomorrow.”

In what must have been two earth hours, Doyle felt a hard tug on his umbilicus and then felt a huge weight lifted from his shoulders. There was a lightness in his body. It was almost as if the sun’s rays were shining right through him. He felt an overwhelming sense of being at peace and being swathed in unconditional love.

“It’s gone! That ache around me tummy button, it’s gone with a sharp tug and then being filled with lightness and love. That what it was like for you when you died?”

“Yep. Snap and then pop I’m being greeted by me Dad. Told me I was dead, and he was my father, but I had one more task to do before I could come back and stay for good. That I had to see you right and help you through your transition.”

“So, we can go to Heaven now?” Doyle was almost eager to see what awaited him.

“You ready then, angelfish?”

At Doyle’s nod they got up and walked hand in hand to the bridge.

Bodie stopped him before they crossed. “I promised you a kiss and that I’d take you home if memory serves, and I always keep my promises.”

“But you already kissed me, if memory serves.” Doyle replied, using Bodie’s own words back at him.

“I think you’ll find that you kissed me. Now let me kiss you, and welcome you to your new eternal life.”

Bodie took Ray chin and tilted it up towards his mouth and then brought his lips in until soft flesh touched soft flesh. He felt Doyle yield to him. He deepened the kiss and Doyle responded with a moan that heightened the ardour that bonded them. Finally, the lips came apart and Doyle felt enveloped in such love that he felt an incredibly lucky man. Bodie had gifted him a wondrous treasure. He was the luckiest man in Heaven.

“Now, are you going to take me home?”

“Never let it be said that I broke my word. All we have to do is cross over this bridge.”

“Bodie, do we live in a house over there or what?”

“I think you’ll find that there’ll be a house in the countryside, with chickens and a vege garden overlooking the sea that’s close enough you can hear the waves. You're going to love it over there, sunshine.”

“You think so?”

“I know so! I've been there, remember, had a looksee and came back 'specially to get you. You know, you're going to fit right in there.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because where we're going, Sunshine, it's always sunny.”

The End.