Challenge drabble

Title: Interlude
Author: Thora Arwin
Format: drabble
Slash/Gen: pre-slash:-)
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: I don't own Bodie, I don’t own Doyle, Bond or any part of the "No, Mr. Bond..." script. I'm just playing with them! No profit being made.

Note: I had the quote: No, Mr. Bond. I expect you to die. - Goldfinger

Hatstand, Circuit, Pros-Lib: No

***

Doyle grinned at the girl behind the counter, handing him his chips. "Don’t worry about him, love," he said, nodding at Bodie standing at one of the tables, stuffing himself. "He’s not your type. Likes his women… deprived."

"Deprived?" the girl asked, eyebrows raised, Bodie’s visit-card in her hands.

Tapping the side of his head, Doyle gave her a meaningful look.

"Ohhhh."

"Yep," Doyle agreed sadly. "I’m his keeper. He’s only allowed outside once a week, too."

The girl blinked and cleared her throat. "Well, thanks for-"

"Oi!" Bodie called out, mouth full, gesturing wildly with greasy fingers.

Smiling at the girl apologetically, hands raised in a what-can-you-do manner, Doyle made his way over to his partner, trying desperately not to look too smug.

"You bastard," Bodie said affectionately, chuckling.

Obviously being indulged, Doyle just grinned back. "Can’t blame the birds for seeing right through you, mate."

"Tall, dark and-"

"A poor man’s James Bond, that’s what you are."

Bodie shoved another chip down his throat and smirked. "What does that make you, then, Q?" He ignored the glower and continued in a smooth deep voice, "Martini. Shaken-"

Doyle nodded eagerly, "Yeh, that’s what I am from the amount of junk you stuff yourself with. Any moment now, your heart, pop," he snapped his fingers under Bodie’s nose, continuing in one of their ongoing jokes about healthy food.

"Gerroff!" Bodie swatted his hand away, laughing. "What, do you expect me to live till eighty?"

"No, Mr. Bond. I expect you to die," Doyle said sarcastically. "‘Course I expect you to live till eighty! I’m watching your back, aren’t I?"

Clearly sensing the earlier joking had become something far more serious for Doyle, Bodie backed down. "‘Course you are, sunshine," he said mildly. "Glad of it, too."

The scowl stayed there for a moment and then Doyle’s features softened, the annoyance diffusing. "Good," he said finally.

"Good."

And that was that.