A big big thanks to Jennie who did the beta for me
and without whom this story would be crawling with mistakes. Ta!

Correct if I'm wrong, but generally speaking we all seem to have a pretty good idea about the backgrounds of our agents. Somewhere it starts off with a writer having a personal view of a character and gradually, it gets accepted as part of the cannon. Not because we want to steal ideas from others, but because we're all watching the same show, and so have similar ideas.
But what if we're all wrong? What if Bodie doesn't have the dark and secretive past we so often think he must have? What about Doyle's temper? We say it's in the genes - but maybe it was triggered by just one event. And how much do we know about Cowley, apart from the malt scotch? Here's my new story. It's an attempt to approach Bodie and Doyle from an….emmm… unusual point of view. Enjoy!

BODIE

Doyle's date was a tall, beautiful woman named Cynthia. She had told him she'd bring a friend along for Bodie, so they would be able to leave politely and not abandon Bodie in the pub, all on his own.

Bodie? On his own? Doyle thought amused - He'll find a way around it, he always does.

But he accepted her offer, and together with Bodie, stood outside the pub and waited for the girls to arrive.

"Do you know what the friend is like?" Bodie asked, a twinkle in his eyes betraying his excitement. "Has she got the same tall legs as Cynthia? Is she a blonde, brunette, ginger? Long shining hair?"

"Haven't got a clue, Bodie. I know her name, by the way. It's Maria."

"Maria, Maria, I just met a girl named Maria…" Bodie quoted dreamily. "That sounds like a Spanish dark beauty with sun kissed skin and almond shaped eyes." He rubbed his hands together, his smile showing he had great plans for the coming evening.

When Cynthia and Maria arrived, Doyle could hardly hide his amusement - and Bodie his disappointment. Maria was far from beautiful, with short wild hair in various colours, too much mascara and black eye shadow completely destroying the image that Bodie must have had. She even wore black lipstick and nail polish. A thick black leather jacket was covered with safety pins, as were her black jeans. Even her army boots bore the same awkward decoration.

Ironic, isn't it - a new wave punk lover as a date for Bodie, Doyle thought, unable to quash the feeling of victory at the sight of Bodie's somewhat shaken look.

"Hello Ray. Hi Bodie." Cynthia said, all smiles, while kissing both men lightly. "This is my friend, Maria. Maria, meet Ray Doyle and Bodie."

A short nod from the woman dressed in black and the four of them went inside. Bodie, being the last to enter, held the doors open for them and glared angrily at his partner. His face left little room for doubt - the what-did-I-do-to-get-stuck-with-this- look was transmitted and picked up by Doyle.

Totally at ease, Doyle flashed a smile at Cynthia and Maria, then sent one to Bodie that said it all: we're here now and you've got your date so you'll just have to try and manage tonight.

Cynthia and Doyle were totally at ease with each other, chatting and laughing, and having a good time. They even tried to include Bodie and Maria in their conversation but that was more out of politeness than need.

Maria had hardly spoken a word by the time the clock struck ten and Bodie was getting bored when a wicked idea began to form inside his head. He was going to get her drunk - completely plastered. Then he would have an excuse to get her into a taxi and get rid of her that way.

He went over to the bar, ordered a couple of lagers and an equal amount of whiskey.

Maybe, if he could get her out of his way fast enough, there would be some time left to visit the stewardess he met last month….

But, surprise, surprise…

She drank as if there was no tomorrow. Whereas Bodie was beginning to feel the effects of the strong liquor, she didn't seem to be bothered by it one bit.

He began to feel really light-headed after the seventh glass of whiskey that they downed and didn't pick up the vague warning signs that it wasn't she, but he, who was getting drunk.

His voice slurred a little when he pointed to her small glass.

"Want 'nother one?"

"Sure, Brodie." She smiled happily.

"It's Bodie." He grunted. "Bo-die."

"Okay. Bo-die. What else?" she threw the whiskey down her throat in one long go.

"Sjust Bodie."

"No - I don't buy that. Come on, Bodie what? Bodie Jones? John Bodie?" she played with the drink, tapping one of her black enamelled nails against the glass to the beat of the music in the background.

"William Andrew Philip Bodie." Doyle suddenly interfered, enjoying the sight of a woman clearly drinking Bodie under the table.

"Doyle! Shut it!"

"Ahaa… that's impressive." Maria nodded. "Like all the princes, right?"

"Yeah, yeah." Bodie muttered, a bit annoyed. "That's my line by the way."

"So your folks were interested in royalty then?"

"No. My dad's name is William. One granddad was called Philip, the other one Andrew. I was named after them."

Doyle leaned a little closer to his partner. Bodie had never told him anything about his past, and this was one of the first times Ray had actually heard him talking about his family.

For a while, the family talk was forgotten after a band appeared and played live music on stage. Unexpectedly Maria's eyes sparkled magically, which seemed to totally change her entire appearance. Much to everyone's surprise she jumped up, stepped over to the drummer and asked him something, gesturing wildly. Then, when the band had finished, she sat down behind the drums and performed a perfect drum solo for everyone to hear.

Cynthia, not used to the amount of drinks either, giggled tipsily.

"I told you, she's real fun. She's known to do very unusual things."

Bodie looked at her with increasing interest. She DID do unusual things: drink like a fish and play drums like Ringo Starr.

Applause and cheers sounded as Maria ended her solo with a big bang on the high hat. Then she stepped down, was back at their table in three steps, lifted yet another glass and downed the whiskey in one. Her eyes sparkled.

"D'you play?" she asked, impatiently drumming with the sticks she still held in her hand. The members of the band were still at the bar, following her moves with great interest.

"No - I …"

"Yes!" Doyle interrupted with a little devilish twinkle. "Guitar. He plays guitar."

"Ahaa! Come on Bodie - on stage!"

Bodie shook his head and tried to free his arm as she began to pull him up.

"No, please. No, I can't - "

She pointed at him with the drum sticks.

"Either you follow me now or I'll announce to the audience that you will do a solo. We can do it together - or you can do it on your own."

"No!" Bodie pleaded and tried to kick Doyle's ankle under the table. "I'm not good!"

She pushed a drink in his hand.

"Take it and come with me."

Noooo, he pleaded below his breath. But the little smile had not left his face for one second.

"Alright, you asked for it." She pushed her way through the chairs.

"Publicly - and on your own, now!"

"No - wait! Stop Maria! You win." Suddenly the prospect of performing all alone up there wasn't very appealing, but together with her he would be able to pull through.

When Maria and Bodie returned to their table, accompanied by loud applause, she accepted a tray full of more drinks -courtesy of the house- and put it down in front of Bodie. The face of the CI5 man had turned from initial uneasiness to a smirk that Doyle knew all too well. It was the look of victory, the feeling of having achieved the seemingly impossible.

With much interest the curly haired man looked at the two - no doubt there was more to come now that the ice was broken. For some reason Cynthia looked a little boring now, although of course Doyle would be the last person to say that out loud.

Bodie's face lit up - Maria had been able to make him do something he had never done or expected to do again in the future. But as their music mingled, he had actually found himself enjoying it more than he thought he would. She drummed very well and after his hesitant start he had forgotten to hold himself in check and they had played spiritedly for half an hour.

"Come on, William Andrew Philip Bodie, I want this tray emptied before the pub closes. If your drinking is as good as your music, we're in for a ball tonight."

She emptied the contents of another whiskey filled glass.

She didn't miss his surprised glance in response to her comment, and as she gave Doyle and Cynthia a wink, she pushed a glass over to Bodie.

For the sake of his ego Bodie couldn't let that pass and drank his share as well. Doyle saw how desperately he was trying to keep up with her and how the cheeky look was now permanently pasted to his face, undoubtedly induced by the drink and the intoxication of their musical adventure.

"That was a great gig." Maria said contentedly, enthusiasm radiating from her face. "You play well, Bodie! But back to the subject: we were talking about names. What did you parents call you? Surely they didn't call the entire line of relatives when you had to come to diner?"

"Andy." Bodie hiccuped. "I wasn't called Bodie until I left home when I was fourteen."

"Left home at the age of fourteen, did ya? Why?"

"Would you feel comfortable as the only boy among eleven girls?" he raised his eyebrows in a meaningful way.

"Eleven girls?" Doyle echoed, ignoring the silly grin from his partner.

"To be more specific: eleven sisters"

"Eleven sisters? Gosh - that sounds awful. I've got one and I'm constantly arguing with her." Maria sympathetically raised her glass, toasted him, drank and put her feet up on the table. She just about crushed every stereotype of femininity with her behaviour. And yet… there was something about her that Bodie saw when she'd been on stage with him. A softness that only he had noticed. Or that he thought he did.

Doyle couldn't hide his amazement.

"Don't lie to the poor girl, Bodie. You don't have eleven sisters."

"The hell I do." The blue eyes sparkled, clearly he was enjoying the fact that he had managed to surprise Doyle once again.

"What are their names? Come on, come on, spit it out. I-"

Before Doyle could finished his sentence, Bodie summarised in one breath:

"Ann, Beth, Cathrine, Deidre, Eileen, Fiona, Joanie, Lucy, Mary, Molly and Tina."

The curly haired man counted on his fingers and said immediately, when Bodie was done:

"Again."

"Ann, Beth, Cathrine, Deidre, Eileen, Fiona, Joanie, Lucy, Mary, Molly and Tina."

" Your nose is growing, Pinocchio. I don't believe one word of it. Why didn't you ever mention them before?"

Bodie shrugged his shoulders and chose not to answer him.

"My parents wanted a son very much and didn't stop until they had me. I'm the youngest."

He laughed suddenly, enjoying himself as he thought back to his youth.

"Is that a bud I see? Are you growing leaves on that nose of yours?" Doyle asked, still unable to believe what his partner was telling him. "Go on."

"Why did you leave home, Andy? That young I mean?" asked Maria. Actually, Bodie thought, as he studied the green eyes that were surrounded by lots of black, she was rather nice. She had a lovely voice and seemed genuinely interested in what he was saying. And she did have a gorgeous body, below all that black. He'd seen it, when she had taken off her jacket behind the drums.

"Call me Bodie, will you? Everyone else does." He wriggled his fingers to release a bit of the tension he still experienced from the guitar strings. "What would you do with that many sisters around? Stay and be subjected to dolls and satin sachets and ribbons and skirts and dresses?"

She laughed.

"Somehow I think you'd manage well around a lot of women. What was the real reason, Bodie?"

He sighed with a look that showed she was on the right track. Doyle had one eye on Cynthia but in the meantime tried not to miss one word that was being said. It was unclear if Cynthia was either bored or interested, but she did manage to raise a faint, polite smile.

"I visited my sister Eileen when she was in Africa - she was a missionary there. Then I ran into my Uncle Sean, who told me about his life in the Foreign Legion. That sounded like a boy's dream come true."

"You saw a light shining you'd never seen before, 'ey?"

Bodie chuckled at her choice of words.

"Guess so - he introduced me to a world I didn't know existed."

"Blinded by the sight of men?" she laughed, almost wickedly. "Don't worry Bodie, girls have the same problem."

Much to Doyle's amusement, Bodie blushed. This date was absolutely not the regular type of woman that both agents usually went out with and the conversation was heading in unexpected directions.

"It's more a case of being blinded by the prospect of money." He hastily replied.

"You just left home because of the money?" Maria asked surprised. She whirled the fluid in her glass around and put it down slowly. Her eyes were still remarkably clear, despite the copious amounts of alcohol she'd been downing.

"Money. And the fact that my sisters began to interfere with my life more than I liked. They told me what to wear, what girls were 'suitable' for me, what kind of music to like… After the doll-era I couldn't grow up under their stringent rules. Decided to take a hike, follow Uncle Sean's example and I didn't go back to England."

"And your mum and dad? How did they react?"

"What d'you mean *how did they react?* They couldn't tell me NOT to go, could they?"

"I suppose my parents wouldn't be too pleased if I just left like that."

"I didn't *just skip like that*! What on earth gave you that idea?" Bodie said, slurring his words slightly, but in genuine surprise.

This time it was Maria's turn to look a little surprised and Doyle also raised his eyebrows, confused. He'd always assumed that Bodie had just left, run off to some God-forsaken country to escape things. But he hadn't, apparently.

"They actually encouraged me to go out into the big world." The blue eyes were a little unsteady, not focussing all that well anymore. Maria took a chewing gum from a package and offered it to the others. From the remains of the aluminium foil she began to form a little shape. Bodie watched her slim fingers, hypnotised by their careful movements.

"I suppose my mum did see my potential all along. She's a very witty, intelligent woman. I can imagine her saying something to my dad one day, it probably sounded a little like this: William dear, don't you think it's time our little Andy goes out and sees what life and girls outside the house of the Fabulous Fifteen are really like?" A soft, proud glee appeared in his eyes.

"Our little Andy?" echoed Doyle.

"Fabulous Fifteen?" echoed Maria, still fiddling with the aluminium foil.

Bodie chuckled. Amused, he curled his lips to a smile.

"That's what we were called in Glennfidican."

"Where is that? In England?"

"Yes… close to Scotland."

"Your folks were Scottish?"

"No miss - am I getting the third degree here or is it just my imagination?"

"Well, were they?"

"My mum is Irish, my dad came from Liverpool. He took over a farm in the north of England, not far from Scotland."

"Do they still live there?"

"Sure! They've got a lovely cottage there."

Doyle ate a peanut from a glass bowl that was put down in front of him by the girl serving them.

"And that wild bunch of sisters you claim to have? They live there too, I suppose?"

Bodie couldn't figure out why Doyle was trying so hard to take the truth from his words.

"Don't be daft, Ray. You wouldn't still want to live with your folks at the age of 28, would you?"

Maria grabbed a ceramic bowl of olives from the table next to hers. The men at the table waved her apologising look aside. Eat it, girly, you deserve it, their faces said.

She picked up an olive with a toothpick and ate it, slowly, obviously enjoying the flavour very much. Bodie swallowed - even being a bit hazy from the drink didn't take his libido away.

"Where are they now? Your sisters?"

"Scattered all over the globe."

"So you don't get to see them often?"

"After I'd been in Angola I visited Deidre and the twins, Molly and Mary. They've moved to Australia. Cathrine lives in Canada with her husband, Tina and Ann moved to the States. The others live in either England or Scotland. They've all married except for Eileen and she's still a missionary in Africa. She was the one who got me over to Angola in the first place. Oops - I said that already, didn't I?" The gaze in his eyes turned somewhat distant as his mind obviously ran back to many years ago.

Maria insisted.

"Well?"

"Huh?"

"Do you see any of them still?"

Again, surprise knocked at Bodie's door.

"I don't know what Doyle has been telling you but I'm not completely anti-social. I visit my parents when I can, I visit my sisters when I'm in their neighbourhood or they come to see me when they're over here. Sure I see them! I'm a godfather to nine of their children, for Pete's sake! We get along very well. Is that funny or something?"

Doyle still wasn't sure about the sister-part. He was determined to make Bodie trip over the names and expose his lies.

"Fifteen? You said you have eleven sisters. What were their names again? Deidre, Paula, Anna…"

Bodie didn't blink an eye as he summoned the names of his sisters again.

"No - I have a cousin named Paula, not a sister. And Ann is called Ann, not Anna. You forgot Beth, Cathrine, Eileen, Fiona, Joanie, Lucy, Mary, Molly and Tina."

Doyle was on the verge of doubting his own doubts. Bodie seemed sincere enough - if you can call someone that drunk sincere. On the other hand - the amount of liquor might actually make him tell the truth rather than lying all the time.

Maria had been listening carefully.

"Fabulous Fifteen?"

"Everywhere we went, we were being called The Fabulous Fifteen." Maria filled up his glass from the bottle she'd managed to get on to their table. Bodie's gaze followed her as she wiped a drop away with her index finger and licked it off, erotically almost, in an absentminded kind of way.

"Is that meant in a mocking way? Were you notorious or loved around Glennf.. Glennfi…"

"Glennfidican." He helped and laughed amused by her efforts to pronounce it correctly.

"Dunno actually… come to think of it, I never stopped to wonder."

"Surely the Bodie family must have been notorious for their food consumption, if they all ate the way you still do." Doyle helped. Next to him, Cynthia was scanning the pub. On the hunt for more interesting company maybe?

Bodie chuckled suddenly and then began a deep, bright laugh.

"Yeah - that must have been a shock to the locals. The Bodies would make sure there wasn't any stew left if they'd been around." He picked up an olive and tried to throw it into the air and catch it in his mouth but he was either too drunk or too distracted to catch it. Faster than the speed of light Maria caught the little green object before it fell on the ground.

Nothing wrong with her reflexes, Doyle thought, feeling a little dizzy as the drink began to affect him as well, while the woman who was supposed to be drunk seemed totally unfazed by the effects of the alcohol.

She leaned forward and in a very sensual way pushed the olive into Bodie's mouth. She winked and continued her interrogation, going straight for her target.

"What about Easter and Christmas - all with the Fabulous Fifteen? Every year?"

"With most of them anyway." Bodie replied dutifully. "Lovely periods - one of the rare moments that we try to come home at the same time. It's a big family these days, with the husbands and their children."

"And they all stay in Glennfidician?"

"Glennfidican." He corrected her, almost thoughtlessly. "Yup - the farm is big enough." He couldn't suppress a huge yawn as sleep began to catch up on him. "Sorry. Must be all this whiskey."

"To all the whiskey." She toasted and licked her lips as the fluid disappeared.

Her smirk could have been a carbon copy of the one Bodie usually displayed.

Then, as if in a funny slow motion movie, the dark haired man pushed the glasses away and mumbled: "I think I've had enough." before he slid sideways and sank to the ground, out cold.

"Fair enough. Come on Bodie. I'll call you a taxi."

She turned to Doyle and Cynthia.

"Care to give me a hand?"

Doyle couldn't stop laughing. All the time he'd been hiding it, but now that his partner had been defeated, he allowed his laugh to come out and crinkle through the air like cigarette smoke.

As Maria stood up and went out in search for a phone to call a taxi, Doyle leaned over to Bodie and whispered, his words coloured by the booze:

"You lost, Bodie. Big time. You've been beaten by a girl."

*****

Next morning…

Bodie woke up with a huge hangover. He couldn't remember how he got home, if he had been with anyone and how the hell he got into his own bed in the first place. His clothes were on a coat hanger, hung from a hook in front of the open window, shoes neatly put beneath a chair and his wallet and watch, arranged on top.

Somebody had undressed him.

Doyle?

No way. Doyle would just lower him to the bed, maybe take off his shoes, even cover him with a blanket - if he was lucky. Not clean up as tidily as someone had done here.

The more he tried to remember, the less he could. What he needed was a huge amount of aspirin and coffee.

Speaking of which….

The smell of coffee, eggs and bacon reached his nose. He carefully swung his legs out of the bed, quickly grabbing onto the closet when nausea hit him like a ton of bricks. He shuffled to the bathroom, released the tension on his bladder and took a shower, while trying to ignore the drum band playing inside his skull.

Images from yesterday evening appeared - he could remember a punk girl and lots and lots of whiskey and lager. And a guitar?

A little more human but still far from happy Bodie put on his robe and followed the delicious smell into the kitchen. If there was one thing that could cheer him up, it was food - the unhealthier, the better. Doyle could rant about that for hours - but still eat his sandwiches when Bodie looked the other way.

There was a woman sitting at the kitchen table and reading a newspaper. She put it down and to his surprise he saw she was wearing a nurse's uniform. A woman - a nurse! Shit… who the hell was that?

"Hello Bodie! Hung over?" she didn't beat around the bush.

"Ermm… yes. Pretty much." He tried to think of a way to get her to say her name.

"I'll be off to work in thirty minutes. I've already gone home, put my uniform on and slipped back in. I couldn't just sneak out on you without knowing whether you'd be alright, could I? Besides - you had eggs and bacon and my fridge was empty. You don't mind?"

"Of course not. Is there any coffee left?"

"Sure, and there's eggs and bacon in the saucepan."

" I'm not sure if my stomach could handle that." Bodie mumbled. He racked his brain… who was she? Her hair was dark, neatly combed and pinned away beneath her bonnet. She wasn't wearing any make up, nor any decorations such as rings, necklaces or earrings. She looked very common, someone you'd hardly notice.

She stood up, took something from the refrigerator and shook it firmly. Then she unscrewed the lid and put it down in front of him.

"Drink that. All of it."

Bodie wrinkled his nose at the sight of the beige liquid.

"What is it?"

"Maria's Hangover Medicine. Guaranteed to help."

Maria.

Maria - the name, the face and the events suddenly popped up like a cork in water. Maria…. The girl who could drink like the blokes in his Foreign Legion.

"You can't for the life of you, remember who I am, right?" she concluded from his obvious confusion. She put a little dog, made of aluminium foil on the table. He remembered sensitive fingers creating a little animal from litter.

"Sure I do! You're the girl from the bar." Another image sprung to mind. "…and you ate olives."

She laughed cheekily and Bodie knew he'd saved himself from a very awkward situation.

"Drink the stuff, Bodie. I still have half an hour before I have to get going…."

*****

Doyle knew he looked like crumpled paper. His face was whiter than chalk and dark rings beneath his eyes showed his horrific hangover. Even his hair seemed to have lost its natural curl. When the sun came out, he hurried to get his sunglasses on and waited for his partner to arrive, struggling to ignore the terrible headache and the protests in his stomach.

Bodie energetically jumped down the stairs of his apartment, swung over to the passenger's side and sat down next to Doyle, looking smug and self contented.

"Good morning Ray! Lovely day, isn't it?"

"Hrmpf."

"What? Did the lovely Cynthia---" Bodie clapped his hands, and immature delight dripped from his face. *He* didn't look one bit hung over, that was certain.

"The lovely Cynthia stood you up…. I'm right, am I not? She stood you up!"

"Shut up, Bodie."

Bodie nodded in the direction they should go.

"Giddy-up Ray!"

Doyle hated Bodie in moods like this.

"If it hadn't been for you and that idiotic story of eleven sisters…!" he burst out in anger.

"I did tell you about the Fabulous Fifteen, did I?"

"Yeah yeah Pinocchio. And all that other crap."

"Not a lie, not one."

"Fabulous Fifteen… ha!" Doyle hated his own petty mocking tone but was too damn frustrated and unreceptive to Bodie's charm to let it go.

"Yep. Me, me sisters, me mum Mabel and me dad William."

"That's fourteen, sunshine." Doyle's unstable house of cards still held. One lie too many, Bodie - that was just one lie too many! This time I'll nail your arse to the wall.

"Oh… yeah sure."

Bodie smiled, unable to hide the expression of victory and said, without taking his eyes off the road:

"Me, Ann, Beth, Cathrine, Deidre, Eileen, Fiona, Joanie, Lucy, Mary, Molly and Tina make twelve. Me mum and me dad make fourteen. And Elsie. She came with us, everywhere. Wherever the Bodies went, Elsie would follow."

"Elsie?" Doyle moaned.

"Elsie." Bodie nodded, totally content. "A beautiful Golden Retriever. That made us The Fabulous Fifteen."

Doyle went quiet. There was nothing left to say.