CONSEQUENCES OF A SWEET TOOTH

I've never been known as a quitter. Rather, more the opposite; aggressive and persuasive to friend and foe alike, the 'when I want something, I go after it' type. However, even I know my limits. And who was this clever person who had achieved the unthinkable and made me acknowledge those limits, you may ask? Some nutter or terrorist? Some vengeful acquaintance from my adventurous youth? Cowley? No. It was none other than my partner of seven years come tomorrow--one Raymond Jeremy Doyle.

Ah, but no Bodie in my family has ever gone down without a fight. Tried everything, I did. Bought clothes I knew made me look good...showed off the old physique. Kept purchasing that aftershave he'd given me for our third anniversary as partners--really smells wonderful; brings out the animal in you. Got involved in his interest and music. Doyle really does really have a fine ear for it. 'S lovely to have a guitar partner who knows what he's doing! Hell, I even took the ultimate plunge and took up health-conscious cooking, though I'll never admit to the little sod how right he's been. I haven't felt this good since my military days.

Yet, what did I get for my troubles? A *Look great, Bodie* or a *Which one is it this time?* or even a * 'M proud of you, old son. Great dinner!", certainly, but never, never once, a *Wow! You look good enough to eat, mate!*.

So, here I sit, my mind hardly on the report I have to write, finally having to accept the facts as they are: Ray Doyle is not seducible--by men. Of which, I, William Andrew Phillip Bodie, count myself as one. Ah, well, so be it. After all, he is my friend--correct that--best mate and best partner a man could have in a pinch. Right? Never mind that he has the most delectable bum in the world, or the most beautiful face ever set on a man, or those exquisite emeralds he calls eyes, or his full lips ripe for the kissing or...

Sigh.

"Bodie!"

The voice of our fearless leader brings me back to reality and I put my impossible dream behind me. Another day...another pound.

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"You know, Bodie, " my partner remarked to me as we left headquarters, "I think someone up there likes us."

I smiled and nodded, knowing exactly how he felt. Not only had the day turned out perfectly, weather included, but Cowley, always a stickler for rules, had given us the entire weekend off--no standby--and our pay cheques...early. This last made me a bit suspicious. I knew he'd want something in return for all this generosity, but that could wait until Monday. I was determined to make this weekend worth whatever price Cowley set on it.

"This really does call for a celebration, old son", I quipped. "What will it be? Dinner out? I'll even pay half."

That earned me a wicked chuckle. Doyle shook his mop of curls in good-natured denial. "No way, Bodie. If I take you up on it, you'll pay it all", he retorted, grabbing my pay cheque before I knew what was happening.

I chased him all the way to the car.

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Finally, cheques safely deposited and shopping all done, we got back to Ray's flat, eager to begin our celebration. Until now, our previous anniversaries had been mild affairs. Nothing spectacular (although that fifth one was a treat; I'd never spent an anniversary at a WorldCon before), but by mutual consent, we had decided to go all out on this one.

Never does anything by halves, does Ray Doyle. While I saw to dinner--a stipulation of mine, because I knew he'd've wanted to be on home ground....if he'd known....--I listened to his putterings in the dining room, and by experience, I knew he was getting out the best china and accouterments. My instincts had served me, yet again--when I entered the dining area, everything was beautifully in place, including a tablecloth that had once belonged to Ray's paternal great-great-grandmother. The champers was chilling nicely in its own silver decanter, as well.

Dinner was a very nice affair.....silent, yet companionable. At its end, we toasted each other with the champagne in crystal goblets--one, sapphire blue, his; the other, a fine jade green, mine. They had been our gifts to each other at the WorldCon, seen in the hawksters room and not to be passed up.

Thinking of presents reminded me that it was now time to exchange them, our favorite part of the tradition. Except for the goblets and a VCR, my pressie to him on our third anniversary, our gifts had never been really extravagant and each was treasured. Believe me when I say, I had not planned anything for the rest of the evening. I've been told that's when things turn out best.

I had come in from doing the kitchen clean-up--we switch every other year--to find my partner reconnecting the VCR from where he'd taken it to be cleaned. *Round as a melon* and *firm and ripe as any peach* have been some of the adjectives I've used to describe Doyle's luscious near. At that moment, it was presented to me as he fiddled with the wiring and tuning. Took all my reserve not to grab him from behind. Instead, I sat down on the settee and contented myself with watching, storing up some great material for my solitary fantasies.

A few minutes later, Doyle grunted in satisfaction and joined me, two packages in his hands. One, he sat on my lap. The other, larger box, he put behind his back, sitting awkwardly to hide it from my prying eyes. I glanced at him bewildered, but Ray just shook his head in a wait-and-see gesture and nodded at the gift in my lap. Reminded of it, I, eagerly tore off the wrappings and was delighted to discover a video tape of Captain Blood. Letting my pleasure show in my smile (I'm told people can tell when I'm really pleased because my smile reaches my eyes and they *light up like little gems*, as Doyle puts it), I handed Ray his pressie, anticipating his reaction. I was not disappointed. That magnificent face lit up all over as he held up a tape of Brigadoon. He'd been wanting a copy of it for ages, but the stores were always sold out.

Then, Ray sobered, though his eyes still smiled. He reached behind his back and pulled out the other package, setting it on my lap.

"What's all this, then?", I asked.

" 'S for being such a good boy the last seven years," he replied in his best paternal tone. "Go on, open it."

No need to tell me twice. When it comes to surprise, I'll gladly admit that my mental age is six years old...well, would you believe four? Yet, some instinct told me not to do my normal shred-and-mutilate routine, and as usual, I followed it. Was glad I had when I unwrapped the papers and pulled off the top of the box.

Dazed, I lifted out a large, ornate, heart-shaped box, tied with an equally-large, blue bow that was handsomely embossed with a silver "B". There is only one obsession I have, other than Ray Doyle--chocolates! The kind with rich, creamy pink centers. The expensive kind. Only one store did a wrap-up like this.

I've no idea how long I sat there, staring at it, not knowing what to say. It was Ray's voice that brought me back to reality.

"Happy anniversary, Bodie."

I had to smile again--a smile of pleasure and gratitude for my life, such as it was; for my health; for him and, of course, for the chocolates.

"You okay, mate?" Ray asked, concerned.

I just nodded, not trusting myself to speak.

With that now famed awareness that has made us all but legend to the Squad, Ray seemed to understand--takes great pleasure in flustering me, the little sod does--and suggested we watch one of the tapes. I agreed.

Nice, that, you might say. Two friends, sharing a special time, tums filled to satisfaction, mellowed by fine wine, now, settling down to enjoy a video. A quiet evening at home. Right?

Wrong. We who work for CI5, the Big A, seldom have quiet evenings at home and this night was to prove no exception.

Thank God.

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We were nearing our favorite part in Brigadoon--you know the one, where Mr. Lundee finally tells Tommie and Jeff 'the miracle'--and I was on my fifth chocolate, when it happened. In truth, I have no one to blame by myself. If I'd kept my eyes on the telly....

You see, he moved. Innocent enough, right? A shifting of body parts for a more comfortable position? Except that it distracted me. I turned and my heart skipped a beat. Ray had snuggled down, his long legs stretched out, stocking feet wiggling; his shirt was opened to the waist, exposing his tanned skin and just a hint of coppery fur to the candlelight, the glow of which had been my idea. Couldn't stand to see 'em just sitting there on the dining table, neglected. The flickering radiance also highlighted his angel's face, with its human flaw, and turned the wondrous tumble of curls to an auburn/gold. Ray's green eyes were still glued to the screen, so I drank my fill.

I was so engrossed--besotted, more like--that I almost didn't notice him staring back. Clumsily, I offered him a chocolate to cover my arse; he refused it and continued staring. His eyes were alight with something I desperately hoped, for the sake of my control, was a trick of the light.

As is often the case in our relationship, I'd underestimated him again.

"Worse than a kid, you are," he whispered huskily, those eyes seeming to look right into my soul.

"Eh?" I answered, my hand still holding the melting treat before his lips.

:Got chocolate all over you, " he explained, employing his best what's a mother to do voice.

"Oh!" A sudden stab of disappointment coursed through me, but I covered it in true British form--I reached for a hanky.

Never made it.

In a flash, deceptively slender fingers closed on mine in a firm, but gentle, grip. "Allow me."

There'd been no warning, no fanfare, no long speeches; just those two words. A man of action, that's Ray. Like a huge cat, he inched closer, those eyes holding, hypnotizing...compelling me. I had a sudden vision: what if he'd been the serpent in the garden of Eden and I'd been Adam...? Probably would've surrendered, then, as I did, now.

His face inches from my own, I swallowed hard, trying to gather my falling wits. "Ray?" I croaked, my mouth suddenly feeling like a desert.

"Sush," he purred seductively. " 'S all right, Bodie." He took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly. "The pleasure's all mine.,"

With that, he closed the distance between us; reaching out, he took the chocolate from my hands, which suddenly felt very numb. I have no idea where the gooey treat went, for my eyes never left his. He leaned forward, his pink tongue emerging from between full, parted lips, and proceeded to make love to my mouth under the guise of cleaning it.

First, he removed the smear of chocolate that decorated my top lip. I shivered at the sensations that shot through me; then, to each side--purposely avoiding my mouth proper--to clean there. Then, to my bottom lip. It was that fourth time that proved my undoing. So far, my control could've qualified me for sainthood, but it totally snapped when that delectable tip teased my lips apart.

Before either of us could get cold feet--although that would've been the improper term for any part of my anatomy at the moment--I embraced Ray, crushing him to me. The hunger raging in me making me bold, I initiated the kiss, deepening it and to hell with any consequences that might occur later.

It was, thus, to my great pleasure--and relief--when Ray returned the embrace with equal force, his tongue demanding entrance, his hunger matching my own. When he finally parted, we found we were both nearly naked.

There's a rumor 'round the criminal element: *Them CI5 blokes 'ave the busiest 'ands!* Oh, to let them know its no rumor.

"Well, what now?" I wanted to know when I could speak, at last.

It was several moments before Ray, too, could answer. "First, I demand to know how long you've had this planned."

I was stunned. "Me?" I sputtered, indignantly. Doyle's smug expression deepened my indignation.

"Come off it, Bodie", he crowed. "Can read you like a book, I can. Tried everything short of raping me, didn't you?" Green eyes flashed wickedly.

For some unexplained reason, his words caused me deep shame. Although I didn't let go of him, I bowed my head. "You noticed," was all I could manage. Now would come those consequences the touch of his lips had blotted from my mind earlier, the ones I had damned to hell.

"Bodie, look at me."

His voice held neither anger nor rejection; rather, understanding and...affection? Something more? Focusing on that one tone, I raised my head, slowly. Ray was watching me, his eyes slitted, predatory, smokey with desire.....

My control snapped again. I hoped the VCR had an automatic shut off.

THE END

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Grabbed on 10:35, Sat, Apr 17, 2004

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