This story was tossed off when I got frustrated with another Pros story 
I'm working on. Kidnapped is this story, but in it Bodie *does* get 
kidnapped, and Doyle has to rescue him, and help him get over the trauma 
afterwards. I'm doing research for the "comfort" portion of the story, 
and it's moved to the back burner.

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Almost Kidnapped
by Lianne Burwell
March 1998
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Doyle was parked opposite from Bodie's flat, watching. Waiting for his 
partner to come home.

Five days. Five *bloody* days they'd been bodyguarding that Arab, Ahmed. 
A sheik from Ilbad, one of those postage stamp sized countries in the 
Middle East, sandwiched between Kuwait and Saudi Arabia, in London to 
negotiate with English drilling companies for rights to a large oil 
deposit found recently in his country.

The man was a lech. One with a taste for tall dark and blue-eyed, it 
seemed. Doyle had spent the last five days watching Bodie carefully 
ignore the innuendo and avoid the gropes, while remaining impeccably 
polite and apparently oblivious. At first Doyle had been amused, and 
admiring of Bodie's skill. Later, though, he had begun to get angry. This 
moron was coming on to *his* partner, *his* Bodie, and there was nothing 
he could do, thanks to Ahmed's position of importance.

Well, it was all over now. Ahmed's jet would be leaving for Ilbad in 
another hour or so. He was already on board, so he wasn't CI5's problem 
anymore.

So now Doyle was waiting outside his partner's flat, waiting for the man 
to get home. Hopefully Bodie hadn't gone out and picked up a bird or 
something, because Doyle wasn't going to put off any longer.

Doyle couldn't remember a time when he hadn't been attracted to his 
partner. The way the man filled out a formal suit was a treat to the eye. 
The way he moved, the way he smiled. He never had trouble pulling in the 
birds. However, Ray knew that getting involved with your partner was 
always a bad idea. He'd learned that the hard way back in the Met, so he 
hadn't tried anything. Even when Bodie had started putting out the "I'm 
interested, how 'bout you?" signals, he hadn't done anything, not wanting 
to risk their partnership.

But watching Ahmed practically climb all over his partner had been the 
last straw. Watching Bodie see girl after girl, bedding most of them, had 
been fine. A bird didn't threaten what they had. Besides, none of them 
lasted long. But watching a man... Suddenly Doyle found himself wondering 
what might happen next time. What if Ahmed had been young and attractive 
and... nice? Watching Bodie date a girl was one thing, but a man?

It could happen, he realized. Bodie was definitely bisexual, so it 
probably would, eventually, if Doyle did nothing. And the thought of 
Bodie with some *other* man was enough to make his blood boil. 
Possessiveness. Very dangerous.

But there was no way that he was going to let that happen. Tonight. 
Tonight, Doyle was staking his claim.

If only Bodie would get *home*!

* * * * *

Bodie pulled up in front of his flat with a sigh of relief. Ahmed was 
winging his way out of the country, along with his sweaty hands and 
coarse humor. Now it was time to up the campaign.

He and Doyle had been partnered for four years now. The attraction had 
been instantaneous - on Bodie's part at least. Still, a gay relationship 
was one that could get them both in a lot of trouble, so he'd put it out 
of his mind. Plenty of birds, after all.

Still, he'd kept an eye on his partner. Hard not to, when he insisted on 
wearing those tight jeans and tight shirt, swinging his arse and posing 
against walls like a high-priced hustler. *Everyone* kept an eye on Ray. 
Then he'd noticed the looks Ray was giving him. Hot looks. Looks that 
made his toes curl. Fine, if the golly was interested, Bodie wasn't going 
to object. However, he was *not* going to make the first move. Ray would 
have to do that.

But he didn't. Feeling frustrated (in more ways than one), Bodie had 
started dropping hints. Nothing. Bodie dropped innuendo. Nothing. Bodie 
got even more touchy than he was with most people. Nothing. Bodie started 
dressing even *more* to catch the eye. Nothing! He was about ready to 
drag Ray into a room somewhere, lock the door, tear off his clothes and 
shout "Fuck me already!". He might have to, at this rate.

All that effort to get Ray to make a move, and who does? Some Arab with 
an over-inflated view of his own attractiveness. He was *definitely* 
going to have to step up the campaign.

Bodie was making plans when he got out of the car.

* * * * *

It's about time, Doyle thought, seeing Bodie pull up. He opened the car 
door and started across the street. Bodie was stopped at the door, 
fiddling with his keys, when Doyle saw the three figures separate from 
the shadows and head towards his partner. He broke into a run.

"Bodie! Watch it!"

Bodie twisted, and saw the lead figure bearing down on him. He dropped 
his bag to the ground and lashed out with the fist still holding the 
keys, while also ducking the cosh that the man was swinging. The man went 
down like a sack of potatoes. Both he and Doyle pulled their guns to turn 
on the other two men.

One of the men reached under his coat. Doyle shot him in the shoulder, 
and the man went down with a scream. Bodie turned to the last man.

"You really don't want to do that, sunshine. So, how 'bout we just sit 
down, nice and quiet, and wait for them to come take you away. Ambulance, 
meat wagon or copper. Makes no difference to me." The man blanched, 
slightly, at the cold grin on Bodie's face. Doyle left him guarding the 
prisoners while he called it in on the R/T in his car.

"So," he said, returning to Bodie's side. "You recognize these blokes?"

"Yep. All of them were part of Ahmed's entourage."

"Thought so. Maybe your admirer decided he wanted to take a little 
souvenir home with him." He kicked away the tranquilizer gun that the 
second man had been pulling out of a holster. Bodie snarled at him, but 
Doyle just grinned, good-naturedly, back at him. Fairly soon, they heard 
sirens approaching.

* * * * *

Ray was just finishing making his statement to the cop, while Bodie 
called in a more detailed report to headquarters. CI5 would have 
something to say about the attempt to kidnap one its agents, but Bodie 
didn't expect anything to come of it. Either the men would be deported 
because of diplomatic immunity, or they would be charged, and Ahmed would 
deny any involvement or knowledge. Bodie was betting on deporting, since 
the government *did* want Ilbad's oil. At least they weren't greedy 
enough to wrap him up with a ribbon and present him as a gift. He hoped.

Ray entered the flat, activated all the locks, then turned around and 
reached for the beer that Bodie was holding out to him, then froze.

"What the *hell* happened to your hand?" he bellowed. Bodie looked down, 
surprised, and saw that his knuckles were covered in blood. His hand 
*was* feeling a little stiff, now that he noticed.

"Must have cut my knuckles on his teeth. Don't worry, it'll be fine."

"Right. C'mon." Ray grabbed him by the hand and pulled him towards the 
kitchen. "Where d'you keep your first aid kit? It's never in the same 
place twice."

"Ray! I'll just rinse it off in water. It'll be fine," he repeated.

"Don't be a berk. You saw the goon. Who knows what's been in his mouth 
recently. Now, stick that under running water for a while."

Bodie sighed, and did as he was told while Ray searched through the 
cupboards until he gave a crow of triumph and emerged with the small 
first aid kit. He opened it up and pulled out bandages and antiseptic 
cream.

"All right, let's see it." Bodie held out his hand. The skin was torn, but 
the bleeding had stopped. Ray tched, and started spreading on the cream, 
ignoring the twitches and hissed breath. Then he wrapped the knuckles in 
a clean bandage.

"There you go. All better," Ray said in his best 'imitating a mother' 
voice. Bodie snorted.

"Thanks for the yell. Might not have noticed," he said with a grimace.

"I noticed. What were you thinking so hard about?"

"What were you doing here, anyway," Bodie retaliated, carefully not 
answering the question. "Wasn't expecting to see you 'til morning."

"Waiting for you. Needed to talk to you."

"Oh? What about?" he asked, lifting the beer to his mouth.

"This."

Suddenly, Bodie found himself slammed into a wall, and a hot mouth 
pressed against his. His beer fell to the floor, and the sound of 
shattering glass was loud in the room. "Oi!" he said, pulling back a 
fraction. "Watch it! You're cleanin' that up, I hope."

"Shut up, Bodie. I'm tryin' to ravish you."

"And what if I don't *want* to be ravished?" Bodie tried to sound tough, 
but it was difficult when the little voice in the back of the head was 
doing a jig and shouting 'Yes! It's bloody well about time!'.

Doyle frowned. "You're not playing hard to get, are you? You've been 
inviting this for a long time."

"Well, maybe the invitation had an expiry date. Ever think about that?" 
After all, Bodie me lad, you don't want appear to be *too* eager. Ray 
frowned.

"Nope." Then the mouth was back again, cutting off air and coherent 
thought.

When he came back to his senses, Ray had moved them to the bedroom, and 
was pulling at his clothing with great determination, muttering to 
himself all the while.

"Propositioning my partner. Groping *my* partner. Trying to take *MY* 
partner. You're mine and I'm not giving you up!"

"Ray..."

"Shut up, Bodie." The kiss pressed back, hard and possessive, and Bodie 
felt his toes curl and his bones melt. He'd seen Ray's effect on the 
girls, and had fantasized about what it might be like, and it was 
*better*.

This time recovery found him flat on his back, naked, with an equally 
naked Ray draped over him.

"Christ, Ray. Slow down, would'ya!"

"Nope. Been slow for years. Not going to be slow anymore." Then Bodie 
almost levitated off the bed as Ray slid down his body and engulfed his 
erection.

Damn! This wasn't something he'd practiced on the girls. Bodie wanted to 
participate a little more actively, but being on the receiving end of the 
best blow-job he'd ever had in his life - and he'd had a few - didn't 
leave him with the will to do anything except moan and thrash and explode.

He was still limp and panting when he felt the first finger probe him. 
He looked down to see Ray wielding the tube of antiseptic cream. The 
preparation was quick, but thorough, and then Ray was spreading the last 
of the cream on his erection. He cooperated as best he could when Ray 
slung Bodie's legs over his shoulders. Then that gorgeous cock was 
pressing into him. Bodie shut his eyes and tried to concentrate on the 
feeling.

"Open your eyes, mate." Bodie's eyes flew open, unable to resist the 
command. Ray held still. "You're mine, aren't you?" Bodie moaned and 
squirmed under him. Hands tightened on his biceps. "*Aren't* you?"

"Yes!" he screamed. "Christ, Ray, would you *bloody* well *move*?!"

"Just making sure." Ray pulled back, then thrust again. Bodie continued 
to move under him, trying to get Ray to lose control. When he succeeded, 
he was rewarded with the pounding that his months of frustration needed. 
The bed's headboard was pounding against the wall, from the force of the 
thrusts, in a rhythmic pounding that was immediately identifiable. The 
last part of Bodie's brain to hang on to coherency hoped that the folks 
in the neighboring flat weren't home.

Finally, too soon, Ray reached fever pitch, and froze. Bodie could feel 
the rush of warm fluid running through him. Ray collapsed on his chest.

"Ray, could you shift over? You're a little heavy." No answer. "Ray?"

Bodie checked, and found that Ray had already fallen asleep. He sighed, 
then shifted the man over. Ray made a moan of regret in his sleep as he 
slipped out of Bodie's body. Bodie got up and walked very carefully to 
the bathroom to get a cloth to clean them both up.

Once they were both clean, he climbed back into bed and pulled the covers 
up over the two of them. Ray murmured a sleepy command, and pulled Bodie 
in, tight to his chest. Bodie smiled and cuddled up.

Hell, why had he never thought of the jealousy angle? Ah well. Deliberate 
or not, it had worked.

THE END