Format: short story. 950 words
Circuit Archive / Pros-Lib: yes
Summary: Doyle in hospital, Bodie visiting.
Disclaimer: I do not own Bodie, Doyle etc.
Notes: Thanks to cornishcat for the medical jargon <3
The staff nurse was busy on the phone and Bodie strode past her as if he had every reason to be there which, in his opinion, he did. Doyle was sitting up in bed, the bruises on his face a stark contrast to his pale skin. There were bandages around his chest and his arm was in a sling, but he was very much alive.
Bodie exhaled shakily. It had been close, almost too close. One of these days…
He shook his head and carried on towards Doyle's bed.
"Morning, sunshine," he greeted, airily. "Lounging about in bed, are we? Tut, tut."
Doyle threw the magazine he was reading to one side. "I hope you've come to cheer me up," he demanded. "I'm very poorly."
"I don't think you're allowed excitement," Bodie replied, picking up Doyle's charts and flipping through them.
"I'm not allowed anything," Doyle complained. "Get me out of here, Bodie."
"And take you where?"
"Don't care where."
"Somewhere with hot and cold running chambermaids and a view of the gasworks?"
"I'd prefer a hideaway somewhere near the coast. Haven't you got a little cottage we can hole up in and do filthy things to each other while I'm recovering?"
Bodie raised an eyebrow. "And how do we get that past Father?"
Doyle sank back on the pillows and closed his eyes. "You'll think of something," he said, tired but confident. His face still had smears of blood and patches of gauze were taped to his body where the bandage didn't quite reach. His face wore more lines than it had done a week ago and Bodie would bet his CI5 pension that Doyle had acquired even more grey hairs.
But he was alive and Bodie had never seen a more captivating sight.
Bodie couldn't help smiling. "Fascination of the horrible," he said. "You look terrible, mate."
Doyle opened his eyes and gave Bodie a wry smile. "Good," he said. "At least I look how I feel."
A doctor appeared at Bodie's side, dressed in the usual white coat with her hair tied back neatly in a French plait. She took Doyle's charts out of Bodie's hands. "I'll have those," she said briskly and proceeded to look through them. Without looking up she went on, "You're not supposed to be here. Visiting time is between three and five, Mr--"
"Bodie. Just Bodie," he said, switching on the charm.
"He's my partner," Doyle supplied.
"Of course, what else is--" Bodie began, then caught sight of a grin on Doyle's face. He put a hand on his hip and pursed his lips, simpering at the doctor. "When can you get big boy here back to work? My fingers are worn to the bone fetching and carrying for the boss-man and my manicure is ruined. Ruined, I tell you!"
She eyed him up and down. "I'm not judging, Mr. Bodie, and I don't believe you're a stereotype by any means."
Bodie tried to work out whether or not he'd just been insulted, while Doyle just grinned. "Isn't she great?" he said.
"T'riffic," Bodie answered, dryly. He spoke to the doctor conspiratorially in his normal voice, "You should know, love, he's got a wife and three kids at home. He just won't let them visit."
"And I have a husband and child at home and no intention of dating my own brother," she replied, dryly. "Ray, don't you ever get tired of these childish games?"
Doyle started cackling and Bodie realised he'd been set up. "Your sister?" he queried.
"I can see why you're in CI5, Mr. Bodie. Your powers of deduction are amazing."
"Are you allowed to treat family members?" Bodie stung back.
"She's not treating me. She's just nosy," Doyle answered. "What's the verdict, sis? And when can I go home?"
"Not my decision," she told him. "But without anyone at home to look after you--"
"Bodie can do that."
She looked at Bodie and back at Doyle. "Doesn't he have work?"
"I'm off sick," Bodie told her. "Got a very nasty hangnail. Can't possibly type with it."
"You're as bad as each other." She shook her head and sighed, hanging his charts on the hook at the bottom of his bed. "I'll see what I can do."
Doyle grabbed her hand before she could walk away. "Thanks, sis," he said sincerely.
She leaned over and kissed him on an unmarked part of his face. "Just do as you're told and get better," she said, squeezing his hand. "I don't want to see you wheeled into my hospital again any time soon."
She turned her gaze onto Bodie. "Look after him," she ordered. "Don't let him do too much."
"Yes, doctor," Bodie answered contritely. He watched her walk away and turned back to Doyle. "Thanks for the introduction."
"Thought even you could work out she's Dr Doyle."
"You thought, eh? Don't believe that for a minute." Bodie sat down on the edge of Doyle's bed.
"You'll have Sister after you," Doyle said, but his hand moved to rest on Bodie's thigh.
"Let me know if you see her. She'll be the one breathing fire."
Doyle's fingertips traced idle patterns on Bodie's trousers. It was a soft, featherlight touch, but no less welcome for it. This was Doyle and he was going to be okay this time.
Bodie closed his hand over Doyle's and leaned forward. "I'll square it with Cowley," he promised. "We're both owed time off. No reason we can't take it together."
Doyle's answering smile was not the blinding one that Bodie was used to. It was hesitant and unsure.
But it would do for now.