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crack_van2011-08-20 10:20 am
msmoat.livejournal.com) wrote in crack_van2011-08-20 10:20 am
Entry tags:
Between the Lines by Sebastian (NC-17)
Fandom: THE PROFESSIONALS
Pairing: Bodie/Doyle
Length: 31K
Author Website: Sebastian at the Circuit Archive
Why this must be read: All of Sebastian's stories must be read. *g* I say that, even though her characterizations of Bodie and Doyle (especially Doyle) don't always align very closely with my own. But she was a very influential writer in Pros, and one just ought to know her work. Besides that, she is a gorgeous writer, especially when well-edited. She puts words together in ways that just flow and take you along with them. She is simply a pleasure to read. Her stories sometimes deal with themes that don't interest me as much, and I do have issues with her characterizations, but I admire her tremendously.
So, let's talk about this story! It's set during the episode "Mixed Doubles" and concerns itself with the relationship between Bodie and Doyle--how they feel and experience it, and how others see it. And here's a prime example of how a good writer can get you to like things you would normally wince at. There is a contrast presented in this story between big, butch Bodie and slim, fey Doyle. She saves it for me to a certain extent by emphasizing Doyle's courage and strength of will, but...yeah, not my favorite physical description of the lads. *g* And yet, I do love this story. It features a protective Bodie, an elusive, mercurial Doyle, and a rock-solid, mutually obsessive, equal relationship. Add on atmosphere, humor, deep emotion, a sense of the lads in their own, unique world, and wonderful (if brief) characterizations of Cowley, Macklin and Doyle's girlfriend Claire...and you've got a winner of a story.
[During the workout with Macklin and Towser]
Bodie's fists clenched. "Give it to him, Ray," he muttered as Doyle reeled near him. Useless encouragement. It was clear that Doyle was about finished; all his punches lacked strength and direction, he was staggery on his feet, but you could see he was going to die trying. Not for his partner, the simple surrender. Lithe and lean and muscular as he was, Doyle was no match for Macklin. Neither of them were, Bodie conceded; and it stung.
But more important than that, Ray Doyle was getting hurt. And it killed Bodie to stand back and watch.
Doyle's straining arm gave up at last in Macklin's grip. One blow to the guts from a hard elbow, and he was thudding onto the floor, a still, red-T-shirted heap. For the second time that day Bodie was there, extending a hand to him, and it was a moment before Doyle was even able to take it. Bodie practically had to lift him to his feet and hold him there.
***
Yes, I am a sucker for partner worry, so of course I had to choose that excerpt. *g* But, here, let's do another, from the night spent in the hallway on the Parsali op in the episode:
"No. But people talk." He lifted a strand of Doyle's hair, considering its brown softness; and let it fall, tracing the curve of it where it lay on his forehead with a gentle finger.
"Even now? Before now?" CI5 was a strange place; very enclosed. They were all too tightly-knit; too involved in one another.
"Oh, I'm well known for it," Bodie said lightly, and the sudden grip of his tensing hands belied the levity. "Didn't you know? I can't leave you alone, that's what they say. It's a right bloody laugh for the pen pushers in the Ops Room."
"True?" Doyle was fascinated. To all appearances more sensitive and finely tuned than his partner, of the two of them he was by far the less likely to be on the CI5 grapevine. Gossip bored him, even when it concerned himself; maybe that was an egocentric trait, he wasn't sure.
"True," Bodie confirmed. Beneath the layer of sliding nylon fabric, he reached for and found Doyle's hand, twining his fingers around it. "I'm starry-eyed besotted with you, madly in love; and you, opinions vary - you put up with it. That's how the current story runs."
"Yeah?" Doyle lay quiet, in Bodie's arms; it felt like a good place to be, the right place. He thought about what Bodie must have gone through, and how he had kept it to himself, to spare Doyle. His fingers gripped Bodie's tight; and the other hand he let run up and down Bodie's arm, a gesture of comfort and atonement.
"Well," he said at last. "They got it wrong."
Bodie chuckled. "Yeah."
Who knew what he was thinking? Doyle didn't. Maybe they meant different things. He wanted there to be no doubts, not tonight. He wanted Bodie to know exactly where he stood, because he might never get the chance to tell him again. So, abruptly, he sat up, both hands reaching up to tug at the chain behind his neck. He found the fiddly catch, released it, and let the warm metal slide about in his hand for a moment. Wondering what was going on, Bodie too had pushed himself up and was staring at him. Doyle surveyed him for a moment, weighing his chain in his hand; then he put it around Bodie's neck, fastening it on securely. The bright metal gleamed on Bodie's smooth skin; he wore nothing else. Then Doyle lay back down.
"They'll get it right now," he said, contentedly; and settled down in Bodie's firm, loving grip. Now they could go to sleep. And tomorrow could throw at them what it would.
***
Go on, give it a go. Fall under Sebastian's spell...
Between the Lines
Pairing: Bodie/Doyle
Length: 31K
Author Website: Sebastian at the Circuit Archive
Why this must be read: All of Sebastian's stories must be read. *g* I say that, even though her characterizations of Bodie and Doyle (especially Doyle) don't always align very closely with my own. But she was a very influential writer in Pros, and one just ought to know her work. Besides that, she is a gorgeous writer, especially when well-edited. She puts words together in ways that just flow and take you along with them. She is simply a pleasure to read. Her stories sometimes deal with themes that don't interest me as much, and I do have issues with her characterizations, but I admire her tremendously.
So, let's talk about this story! It's set during the episode "Mixed Doubles" and concerns itself with the relationship between Bodie and Doyle--how they feel and experience it, and how others see it. And here's a prime example of how a good writer can get you to like things you would normally wince at. There is a contrast presented in this story between big, butch Bodie and slim, fey Doyle. She saves it for me to a certain extent by emphasizing Doyle's courage and strength of will, but...yeah, not my favorite physical description of the lads. *g* And yet, I do love this story. It features a protective Bodie, an elusive, mercurial Doyle, and a rock-solid, mutually obsessive, equal relationship. Add on atmosphere, humor, deep emotion, a sense of the lads in their own, unique world, and wonderful (if brief) characterizations of Cowley, Macklin and Doyle's girlfriend Claire...and you've got a winner of a story.
[During the workout with Macklin and Towser]
Bodie's fists clenched. "Give it to him, Ray," he muttered as Doyle reeled near him. Useless encouragement. It was clear that Doyle was about finished; all his punches lacked strength and direction, he was staggery on his feet, but you could see he was going to die trying. Not for his partner, the simple surrender. Lithe and lean and muscular as he was, Doyle was no match for Macklin. Neither of them were, Bodie conceded; and it stung.
But more important than that, Ray Doyle was getting hurt. And it killed Bodie to stand back and watch.
Doyle's straining arm gave up at last in Macklin's grip. One blow to the guts from a hard elbow, and he was thudding onto the floor, a still, red-T-shirted heap. For the second time that day Bodie was there, extending a hand to him, and it was a moment before Doyle was even able to take it. Bodie practically had to lift him to his feet and hold him there.
***
Yes, I am a sucker for partner worry, so of course I had to choose that excerpt. *g* But, here, let's do another, from the night spent in the hallway on the Parsali op in the episode:
"No. But people talk." He lifted a strand of Doyle's hair, considering its brown softness; and let it fall, tracing the curve of it where it lay on his forehead with a gentle finger.
"Even now? Before now?" CI5 was a strange place; very enclosed. They were all too tightly-knit; too involved in one another.
"Oh, I'm well known for it," Bodie said lightly, and the sudden grip of his tensing hands belied the levity. "Didn't you know? I can't leave you alone, that's what they say. It's a right bloody laugh for the pen pushers in the Ops Room."
"True?" Doyle was fascinated. To all appearances more sensitive and finely tuned than his partner, of the two of them he was by far the less likely to be on the CI5 grapevine. Gossip bored him, even when it concerned himself; maybe that was an egocentric trait, he wasn't sure.
"True," Bodie confirmed. Beneath the layer of sliding nylon fabric, he reached for and found Doyle's hand, twining his fingers around it. "I'm starry-eyed besotted with you, madly in love; and you, opinions vary - you put up with it. That's how the current story runs."
"Yeah?" Doyle lay quiet, in Bodie's arms; it felt like a good place to be, the right place. He thought about what Bodie must have gone through, and how he had kept it to himself, to spare Doyle. His fingers gripped Bodie's tight; and the other hand he let run up and down Bodie's arm, a gesture of comfort and atonement.
"Well," he said at last. "They got it wrong."
Bodie chuckled. "Yeah."
Who knew what he was thinking? Doyle didn't. Maybe they meant different things. He wanted there to be no doubts, not tonight. He wanted Bodie to know exactly where he stood, because he might never get the chance to tell him again. So, abruptly, he sat up, both hands reaching up to tug at the chain behind his neck. He found the fiddly catch, released it, and let the warm metal slide about in his hand for a moment. Wondering what was going on, Bodie too had pushed himself up and was staring at him. Doyle surveyed him for a moment, weighing his chain in his hand; then he put it around Bodie's neck, fastening it on securely. The bright metal gleamed on Bodie's smooth skin; he wore nothing else. Then Doyle lay back down.
"They'll get it right now," he said, contentedly; and settled down in Bodie's firm, loving grip. Now they could go to sleep. And tomorrow could throw at them what it would.
***
Go on, give it a go. Fall under Sebastian's spell...
Between the Lines
no subject
Thanks for the reminder!
no subject