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takeaway bodie

Top Trumps (Pros fic, Bodie/Doyle, PG-13)

Posted on 2009.12.28 at 21:25
Current Mood: goodgood
Tags: , , ,
Title: Top Trumps
Words: 723
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Bodie/Doyle (mild slash)
A/N: Dialogue!fic, written for DiaLJ Discovered in a Christmas Stocking Challenge (on time, please note! :DDD ) and xposted there. Prompt, Top Trumps. I'm delighted to have had this opportunity to discover so much about the history of Top Trumps cards. For example, although the game itself was created in the 1960s, picking up in popularity with schoolboys in the 1970s, it wasn't until the 1980s until Waddingtons got their hands on the franchise and the cards were named Top Trumps. Before that...

“They’re called Ace Trumps.”

“Yeah. I can see that. See, here it is written on the back. Why’ve you got ‘em?”

“Dunno. Bit of fun, I suppose. Liven up those long cold nights on stakeout.”

“Oh, I can think of another way of doing that. C’mere.”

“Ow! Gerroff me, you insatiable brute!”

“Insatiable brute, eh? I like that. Does that make you the blushing helpless maiden?”

“In your dreams, mate. Blushing what? What kind of books are you into anyway? No, don’t tell me - a couple of days away from me and you’re reaching for the trashy romance novels, you big softie.”

“Books? Nah, these’re films. Very – artistic, know what I mean?”

“Pig. Anyway, I got hold of these from my sister’s kid. They’re all the rage among the discerning eight-year-old set. Should suit you down to the ground.”

“So you’re stealing toys off little children now? I’m disappointed in you, Raymond.”

“He gave them to me, idiot. Had two sets of these ones, so he thought I could use them. Said those night shifts must get boring. I said he wasn’t wrong, level of conversation I have to put up with. Then he said, he thinks Uncle Bodie’s pretty funny, actually, and I said, well his face certainly is, and then – God! Bodie, do that again and I swear I won’t be held responsible.”

“That’s the idea. Oh, give them here, then, let’s have a look. What are they – trading cards?”

“No, it’s a game. Each one has statistics. You pick a card each, choose your category, and whichever card has the highest stats wins. So simple, even a complete moron could understand it. Do you want me to go over it again?”

“Har har. So these are all tanks, eh? Let’s have a look – why are they all German? Or Yank – oh, yeah, here’s one. The FV432. I drove one of these once, you know.”

“Course you did. Ah, Africa...”

“Germany, actually. Training exercises. Oh, and there was this one time I borrowed it to take a particularly lovely fraulein out dancing. Not that we did much actual dancing, come to think. Lots of space in those personnel carriers, know what I mean?”

“Yeah, I think I can just about get my head round it. Well, tanks for the memories, Bodie. Tanks, geddit?”

“You know, Doyle, there are people out there who think you’re intellectual. But they don’t know you like I do. What else’ve you got?”

“Here. You’ll like this one. Sports cars – two Capris in there, too, in among all the Maseratis and the Alfas.”

“Yeah well, class will out. Here, hold on – top speed 112 miles an hour? I consider that offensive.”

“Be fair, Bodie. Those are a few years old now. Look on it as a challenge.”

“Don’t need to, mate. Hundred and twelve? I passed that a long time ago.”

“Ahh. And you don’t look a day over ninety.”

“Oh, very droll. You know, these card things are pretty good. Tell you what, there should be a CI5 agents set. I’d get maximum marks for top speed in that. And in the ‘Charm and Charisma’ category.”

“Oh, of course. You can have the ‘Dumb Insolence’ category while you’re at it. What about ‘Firepower’? That’d be a good one.”

“Easy, too. It’d have to be Tommy, God rest him. Never seen a man who loved big guns as much as him. Hey, what do you think the Cow would score highest on?”

“Um. ‘Triple think’, definitely. And possibly ‘Capacity to Kill a Man with a Single Blow’.”

“Nah, that’d be you. Nobody blows like you do. Speaking of which...”

“Oh, for crying out loud, do you ever think of anything else? All right, here’s one that’s on your level. Who’d score highest in the ‘Glamour’ category? Susan or Ruth?”

“Both very worthy suggestions. But my vote’d go to Betty. Now there’s a fine figure of a woman.”

“Fair enough. And Anson can have the ‘Smartest Mouth’ category.”

“Oh no. That’s you again, sweetheart.”

“You really are very single-minded tonight, aren’t you? Oh all right, I give up. You want to see how smart this mouth can be, get over here and I’ll...hang on.”


“Over there.”

“Yep, that’s him. Sense of timing’s as criminal as the rest of him. Right then, cover me. One, two, three...”


GRITS in Misery
gritsinmisery at 2009-12-29 04:15 (UTC) (Link)
Our Lads can't even catch a break for the holidays, can they? Stupid crims.

Someone should make those CI-5 cards, though. *nods*
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