Bodie was very quiet on the drive back into the city; unnaturally quiet, Doyle thought, after asking the same question three times before receiving a response. "Sorry, mate, what?"

"You want to grab a bite?"

"No. Too knackered, but I'll buy the first round tomorrow."

"Everything alright, Bodie?" Green eyes made a quick search of the well known face before returning to the road.

"Yeah, fine...just want to sleep in my own bed and not have to worry about the bad guys showing up to interrupt me beauty sleep again...gets old fast, that does."

"Okay, tomorrow then?"

"You're on, Sunshine."

Bodie stayed under the shower until the water started to go cold. He made cheese toast and ate without much thought as he went through the mail that had piled up while he'd been shadowing Susan Grant. He was tired, he admitted to himself. Susan and her mother were terrific - had made him feel like he belonged, even: not a feeling he was at all used to. He'd enjoyed his brief stint at a 'normal' life - never had enjoyed it as a youth, and since the age of 14 'home' had been a series of tents, barracks, or a different CI5 furnished flat every four to six months.

His feelings for Susan had never progressed beyond brotherly, and that had been for the best considering her comment that his partner was "the good looking one, Mr. Doyle." Her mother had welcomed him as though he were an old family friend, not some tough assigned to protect her daughter; though she'd known the truth. He had particularly enjoyed looking through the family photos and listening to Mrs. Grant's fond memories - seeing a life he thought only existed in films. And he'd been a bit thrown by Susan's comment that he, too, was a loner: not that he disagreed, but few people ever paid him enough attention to notice.

Shaking his head - introspection was bad for the brain and he normally left it to Doyle, who did more than enough for both of them - he cleaned up the kitchen, checked the locks, brushed his teeth and climbed into bed. He was unable to settle and turned on the bedside lamp twenty minutes later. Shoving aside the covers, he got out of bed and moved to kneel before a small throw rug by the wardrobe. He rolled it up tightly before pulling up a loose floorboard. Reaching into the opening, he pulled out a slim box and brought it back to the bed. Lifting up the lid, he picked up a crinkled, faded black and white photo. He stared at it for a long time while one finger traced the outline of the woman and child.

He returned from his run the next morning to find his partner waiting on the steps, carrying breakfast. Bodie took a quick shower and went into the bedroom, still toweling his hair. He found Doyle sitting on his bed, photo in hand.

Confused green eyes looked up. "Who is this?"

Bodie made another pass through his hair with the towel, needing a moment to gather his composure. He'd never shown that photo to anyone, and it was the only piece of his childhood he'd kept. But looking through Mrs. Grant's album with her warm commentary had made him think about the photo. And he'd been struck by the fact that she enjoyed sharing her memories - despite the fact he was a stranger.

But Ray - Ray was as close to family as he was ever likely to have. Pulling the towel about his shoulders, he offered his mate a half smile, "Me mum."

"She's beautiful," Ray responded softly, understanding the gift of knowledge he had just been given.

"She was...died when I was eight. Me da wanted another wife, but couldn't seem to stay out of the pub long enough to find one."

"This you?" Ray asked pointing to the small child nestled in the woman's arms. Bodie nodded shyly. "Well, at least now I know that the dark and beautiful part is genetic."

Bodie laughed and sat beside his mate. "Lucky for me I took after Mum."

"I can see that. You know, I have a mate, runs a photo store. He does a lot of restoration work. I could call him after breakfast, and we can run it by and let him take a look."

Bodie concentrated on buttoning his shirt. He'd never shared his past with anyone. Not even Doyle, yet his partner was acting as though it were an everyday occurrence. "Think he could fix it?"

"He takes a new photo. Doesn't do anything to the original. While he's doing that we can look for 

a frame at that shop near the park. Put it out on the mantel." Seeing the slight look of panic, and realizing he'd pushed a little too hard, he continued. "Or better yet, here by your bed. That way she can still keep an eye on you...course you might have to turn her to face the wall the next time you bring home a bird."

Blue eyes looked lost in the past for a long moment before refocusing on his partner. "I'd like that, Ray. I'd like that a lot."

"Come on then, you're a growing lad, and I imagine we'd better fill up that stomach of yours before we head out or I'll never hear the end of it."