October 4th, 2006
Wonderful Tonight by Sebastian
Why this particular quote? Well, of all the different versions and images there are of Doyle in canon and fiction this is about my favourite one. With just a few words Sebastian manages to create an image of Doyle who can stay in my mind for days. And this is a Doyle who isn’t feminised, isn't selfish, moody, ratty, or a snivelling-on-Bodie’s-shoulders-type-of-D oyle, but a Doyle who is quietly heroic and totally prepared to face his own death in order to save the life of his partner. And the last bit.........Bodie driving in the night to Doyle's flat where he finds him lying alone in the dark,...... (they) found something which had taken them both by storm - I *love* that bit - and who wouldn’t fall in love with him?
How had it all started?
Bodie was thinking this, looking out along the empty darkened street, remembering the first time.
Routine stuff really: he had infiltrated a ring…….only someone had rumbled Doyle……sentenced to death in someone’s flat by a firing squad of two he had kept up his façade to the end, fighting and protesting to the very moment he was left, blindfolded and tied, against the wall.
Then he had gone quite silent.
Bodie, sweating ice, did not have to imagine what that silence cost him, he was fighting the same battle………so they had sweated on it. Ice and blood.
Eyes on that jeaned figure against the wall, defiant and cold to the last.......Bodie would not have blamed Doyle for breaking down, falling to his knees, crying out for mercy:.........but Doyle had shown the deepest, steadiest courage: he had simply waited, without a word, or a breath. And nothing had happened...........
Bodie had driven then after midnight to Doyle’s flat, found him there awake in the dark. Still in darkness, in silence, they had come together, found something which had taken them both by storm.
Something they had not been able to leave behind
How had it all started?
Bodie was thinking this, looking out along the empty darkened street, remembering the first time.
Routine stuff really: he had infiltrated a ring…….only someone had rumbled Doyle……sentenced to death in someone’s flat by a firing squad of two he had kept up his façade to the end, fighting and protesting to the very moment he was left, blindfolded and tied, against the wall.
Then he had gone quite silent.
Bodie, sweating ice, did not have to imagine what that silence cost him, he was fighting the same battle………so they had sweated on it. Ice and blood.
Eyes on that jeaned figure against the wall, defiant and cold to the last.......Bodie would not have blamed Doyle for breaking down, falling to his knees, crying out for mercy:.........but Doyle had shown the deepest, steadiest courage: he had simply waited, without a word, or a breath. And nothing had happened...........
Bodie had driven then after midnight to Doyle’s flat, found him there awake in the dark. Still in darkness, in silence, they had come together, found something which had taken them both by storm.
Something they had not been able to leave behind