Title: Freedom Lost
Author: lucy_roman
Rating: Teen and up
Summary/Warnings: Pre-canon. Cowley is trying to recruit Bodie into CI5, but Bodie is reluctant.
Characters: Bodie, Cowley, Doyle
Word Count: 757


Bodie likes feeding the ducks. It's relaxing. It gives his mind time to think, time which is in short supply in his line of work. Bodie has to make instantaneous decisions. If he doesn't he dies. Or worse other people die.

There are two mallards, practically begging for bread. Bodie aims the next piece at a moorhen instead.

The bench he is sitting on squeaks as someone sits down next to him.

"Lovely day for it." The voice is tinged with a Scottish accent.

Bodie sighs. A normal life is what he wants. A 9-5 job where he doesn't have to face death at every turn, a nice comfortable flat, a local where his drink will be ready and waiting for him on the bar. Maybe even one day a wife and kids. Bodie hasn't thought that far ahead. But what he doesn't want is what the man next to him is offering.

He takes the card. Silky smooth under his fingertips. CI5, it proclaims. George Cowley, controller. There is a telephone number as well but Bodie doesn't look at that. He has no intention of needing it.

"No," he says because he wants to make sure that this Cowley knows he is not going to bend. He holds the card out.

"Keep it. I've got plenty." Cowley stands up but Bodie keeps his eyes focused on the ducks. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Bodie."

He is not going to react. He is not going to respond to the farewell or to the fact that George Cowley knows to address him as Bodie. In fact he is going to throw away the card as soon as possible.

He tucks it into his pocket. Throws the last piece of bread to the ducks, dusts the crumbs from his hands, and stands up. Time to go home. By the time he gets there he has forgotten all about the card tucked inside his jacket.

The next day Bodie is back in the park, back on his bench. The sun is out this morning, it sparkles on the smooth waters of the river. The moorhen is back. Perhaps he has a nest somewhere, a wife. Bodie grins at his own idiocy.

"Nice day, isn't it?"

The bench creaks and Bodie sighs.

"That's the line you're going with?"

"It's not a line just an observation. Would you prefer it if I said: this city now doth, like a garment, wear the beauty of the morning?"

Bodie has to hide a smile. "Did he tell you to say that? Cowley?"

"He suggested it. Apparently under that tough exterior you have the heart of a poet."

"Now look---" Bodie says turning towards the man who is disrupting his peace. Then he stops. His eyes widen. The man sitting next to him is about his age, his height, slender, and has a mass of brown curls on his head that the morning sun is tinting red. Cowley might think I have the heart of a poet but this man actually looks like one.

"Ray Doyle." He sticks his hand out and smiles.

Bodie can and does ignore the hand but he can't ignore that smile.

"So what brings you to CI5?" Bodie decides it's time he asked some questions. "You're not army."

"Police," Doyle says.

Cowley's read his file and while Bodie knows there is a lot missing from those pages he also knows there's enough in there for Cowley to know that this particular gambit has more than a reasonable chance of success.

"What gave it away?"

"Your hair." Bodie smirks but it's too late. He looks at Doyle. What would this poetic-looking policeman do if Bodie kissed him? He'd knock me into next week. Still, Bodie's patient and it looks as if he will have plenty of time to win over Ray Doyle.

"Tell Cowley I said yes," Bodie growls out the words. The smile he gets in response almost makes giving up his freedom worth it.

"You won't regret this," Doyle says with a grin. "Fancy a pint later?"

"Yes," Bodie says because at the moment he seems to be agreeing to anything if it means he can spend more time with Ray Doyle.

"Freedom's overrated anyway," Bodie mutters trying to convince himself.

"Say again?"

Bodie shakes his head. He is helpless. Utterly helpless.

There's a disturbance on the water. One of the ducks takes flight, wings whirring. Envious Bodie watches it go. One day he'll fly away. He hopes when he does he will have Doyle at his side.