crack_van | The Cow's Tale: Doyle in the Manger by Dorinda (G)

Fandom: THE PROFESSIONALS
Pairing: Bodie/Doyle (not explicit)
Length: ~ 2.700
Author on LJ:

dorinda
Author Website: Dorinda's bare bones page
Why this must be read:

Well, looks like I'm into a reflective mood on fic :P
This one is outsider view on the lads: Cowley's view. The story is set after Discovered in a Graveyard, and Cowley is remembering and reflecting on his best operatives partnership. And their personal relationship. And about how he did whatever was necessary to keep both of them working *g*

Here, have a taste:
I suppose a man of my background is expected to be a hidebound martinet. It had certainly seemed that way to that lad Pellin. Poor boy made very sure to insist that he "wasn't a homosexual himself"...as if he half expected me to put him back in an armlock. And from the way Doyle and Bodie suddenly became good as gold, I think they had a few visions of armlocks and the like as well. Ridiculous.

I left it to them to sort themselves out, and time went on. Doyle stayed wary, as he tends to do, but of course Bodie figured out there was nothing to fear from me. He settled back into his trouble-making ways, and after a bit, Doyle followed. And whatever instinct had led me to partner them, and led them to pair even further with each other, it more than proved its worth over the next few years. They read each other with uncanny skill, and saw one another into and out of situations that would have killed anyone else. If a change in sexual mores could guarantee that sort of death-defying performance from the rest of the Squad, I'd consider making personal involvement mandatory--no matter the gender of the partners--rather than officially frowned on and unofficially overlooked. I wouldn't have to order so many funeral wreaths. So many young lives. A man gets tired.

Och, well. Time's getting on, mustn't get maudlin. As I was saying, 3.7 and 4.5 were living a charmed life, tied together body and soul as they were. For three years they managed it, until even I found myself falling into the habit of believing them immortal. Believing one of those cliches about love conquering all and so forth. And then Doyle, damn the boy, "changed his mind."

That's what Bodie told me, in any case, and believe me it took more than a few stern scoldings backed with a few shared bottles of pure malt to get that much out of him. Not his fault, sir, can't be helped, sir, no harm done, sir. All the while his eyes telling me more than he wanted me to know. More than I wanted to know.

Oh, come on! Who doesn't want to see the Cow as Cupid? Go and read The Cow's Tale: Doyle in the Manger, and then, let

dorinda know how great writers she is *g*