Title: Just Watching
Rating: PG for a swearword.
Word count: 1089
Characters: Cowley, Bodie and Doyle 
Summary: Sometimes Cowley finds it harder to send Bodie back into dangerous situations than with other agents.
Author's note: Hi, I'm new here. draycevixen tricked me into checking out these lovely 70s agents as I'd already fallen in love with 70s cops through Life on Mars. Now, I'd consider myself a Bodie/Doyle fangirls like most of you, but after dear mikes_grrl, who I blame for this, mentioned that she shipped Bodie/Cowley, I've been unable to not see the slight (unrequited) crush Cowley seems to have on Bodie. That's basically what this is about. I hope you like it. (Oh, and I blame talcat as well for encouraging me into writing this.)



Bodie’s face was a mess of bruises. The last case had been touch and go, and according to Doyle, Bodie had taken a stupid risk somewhere along the road. Cowley knew Bodie. He knew he only took those risks when they were needed, either to complete the mission or to keep his partner safe. Doyle was forgiving of the first reason, but not the second. Every time Bodie risked his life for him, he’d be pissed rather than grateful. Cowley tried not to show that he felt the same way. The Controller didn’t play favorites. Yet for some reason, it was always harder to look away from Bodie than it was to look away from 4.5 or any of his other agents, and infinitely harder to keep his cool when Bodie was hurt. Like now.

“3.7.” His voice was rough and aggressive. Any hint of sympathy or pain was perfectly vacant from his voice. “4.5 here informs me that you purposefully put yourself in harm’s way during your mission, risking the whole operation.” Bodie twisted his mouth into a sour grimace, glaring at Doyle out of the corner of his eyes.

“Grass,” he mumbled sullenly, standing firmly with his legs slightly spread, arms locked behind his back. “Had to go running to daddy, didn’t you?” Cowley mentally flinched at the word.

“I wouldn’t have to, would I, if you stopped acting like a five year old and actually thought things through before throwing yourself into a situation.” Doyle’s reply hardly even registered with Cowley. Daddy. That’s what he thought of him, wasn’t it? Cowley, the father figure, to the lad that had only had horribly unequipped men to fill that position previously.

“Oh, is that so?” Bodie was seething, anger clearly visible, but tightly held in reign. Cowley tried not to notice the muscles in his jaw flexing as he grinded his teeth. “You’d rather I’d be standing here, explaining to Cowley how I’m giving the report on my own because I had to set up a proper plan to get you out of that Goddamn mess you’d gotten yourself into instead of taking a chance and getting us both out?” The heat in his voice was rising steadily, and Cowley could feel the approach of the explosion, knowing he’d have to reprimand Bodie when it happened. Daddy. He did not look forwards to seeing Bodie with his eyes on his feet, looking like a shamed, yet defiant son, getting told off by his father.

“I could have gotten out of that mess on my own, you know!” Doyle yelled back, in equal intensity. They were both running on the fear and anger left over from the fight, and fueling each other’s anger with this argument as well. Maybe he’d be lucky. Maybe Doyle would be the one to blow up this time, leaving him to be the one reprimanded.

“Oh you could, could you?” Bodie’s face was turning red, blood rushing to the surface, anger and passion colouring him. The deep crimson crashed with the dark purple and green already spattered across his face, the ensemble of blood leaking from crushed veins making his skin bulge into swollen bumps on his forehead and cheekbone. There were still bits of dried blood crusting in his hairline. Cowley had seen worse. He’d experienced worse, and he knew Bodie had as well. He told himself that he didn’t know why the sight of those injuries still made him sick to his stomach.

“Better than you, obviously!” Doyle said with a wave at Bodie’s bruises. He had a curious way of managing to mix matter-of-fact with aggression into a tone of voice that seemed impossible to argue with.

“Bruises heal, Ray,” Bodie sneered between clenched teeth, now facing his partners. They’d both taken a step closer and were practically in each other’s face. Cowley felt a sting of jealousy, but swiftly grabbed the feeling by the throat and had it executed by a single shot to the back of its head. “A bullet wound right between the eyes doesn’t.” And wasn’t that the truth of it? Cowley could see Doyle deflate before him, and as the fight went out of him, it vanished from Bodie as well. The anger was finally gone, then. All that was left now was the fear. Cowley knew how that felt. Both of them were probably wishing for the anger back right this very moment, but it was gone beyond recall. He squared his shoulders and asserted his presence once more, making sure he had the full attention of both agents. Yes, both. Doyle was as much his man as Bodie. He just had to remind himself occasionally.

“I’m assigning you two a new case,” he told them stiffly, dreaming of the large scotch he would treat himself to as soon as they were out of the office. Both of them was facing him now, standing as firm as soldiers during a parade. “You’re going to take over the Meadows case.” Both faces fell simultaneously.

“Sir!” The complaint was rather simultaneous as well.

“Stop it with the choir act,” he told them sternly, and they closed their mouths, moving back into position. Bodie, however, beautiful, stubborn Bodie, didn’t stay silent for long.

“But Sir, the Meadows case is a milk run. It’s a case for a junior agent who’s just earned his stripes. Not hardened veterans like us!” He gestured pointedly to himself and Doyle, who was giving a nod of agreement.

“Are you proposing to do my job, 3.7?” Cowley asked him coldly, narrowing his eyes.

“No, Sir.” There it was. The shamefaced, yet defiant son. Cowley winced inwardly.

“Then you do as I say.” No warmth was allowed back into his voice. “You’re on the Meadows case from now on, and any other ‘milk run’ there is, until I deem you fit to go back into proper action without putting your assignments in danger through reckless behavior.” There was quiet, but unmistakable grumbling from both lads standing in front of him. “You may go.” They did, without another word, probably to discuss exactly how unfair it was for Cowley to keep them off proper duty for such a little thing as this. It didn’t matter. He knew he’d have to give them an assignment worthy of their standards after the Meadows case. He knew he couldn’t keep forcing Bodie to only run the safe operations. He just needed a day or two of safety before he had to go back to holding his breath again.