Part 6
Author: echo_voice
Title: Follow the yellow brick road (Part Six)
Rating: Brown Cortina (Slash and swearing)
Pairings: Sam/Gene
Spoilers: 2.02, 2.07 and 2.08 are the important ones.
Summary: Sam and Gene interview King, but soon discover that he's one step ahead of them once again.
Disclaimer: None of the characters are mine.
A/N: Still going! Once again, thanks to everybody who's still reading, All reviews critical or otherwise are gratefully received.
“Good evening, Mr King,” Sam said casually.
“DI Tyler. What a pleasure to have finally met you properly.”
Sam couldn’t help the shiver that ran down his back. “And why’s that, Jack?”
“Heard a lot about you, you know. Most of it good.”
It was a horrible feeling being quietly assessed by this young man who quite possibly knew things about Sam, or Sam Williams at least, that he himself had no idea of.
“Oh, shall we all tell each other a little bit about ourselves?” Gene snapped from where he stood in the shadows, breaking Sam’s mood. “This isn’t a bloody coffee morning at the WI!”
Focused once more, Sam leant forward, smiling pleasantly. “Why don’t you tell us a story, Mr King. How about the Wizard of Oz?”
Jack laughed and gave Sam a piercing look. “Oh, Mr Tyler. I’m not the one who thinks he’s the Wizard.”
And Sam wondered instantly what the hell he meant by that.
“Who does then, Jacky boy? Because here and now all the evidence suggests it might be you,” Gene said strolling over.
“Do enlighten me.”
Sam slid a photo over the table. “Here we have you talking to two well-known bank robbers, Gary Letts and James Price. And look, Jack, that’s a nice wad of money you’re handing over. Later on the local safe gets broken into.”
“Are they robbers? I just play poker with them. I owed them a bit of money.”
Well, they could check that story, but Sam feared a contingent plan had been made. Talking to the two robbers was likely to be unproductive; they were inconsequential in the grand scheme, though Gene had vowed to sort the two out as soon as they had King’s collar. Sam ploughed on regardless of Jack’s easy evasion.
“We have a witness statement, from one Sally King.” Sam was pleased to note that Jack’s jaw tightened. “Says you instructed her to steal your old case file.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Search my house. There’s no file.”
“Oh we will tear it apart as soon as possible, Jack,” Gene drawled, taking a drag of his cigarette. “Though I’m sure you will have destroyed the file by now.”
Jack smirked cockily. “What file?”
Sam leant back in his chair and carried on reading the witness statement. “Also says that she told you that one Arnold Malone had spoken to us about you, given us your name in relation to robbery.”
“So? Malone’s word counts for nothing,” Jack shrugged.
“A day later, Mr Malone was found dead,” Sam continued, giving Jack an assessing look.
“I’m sorry to hear that. Sure, Sally told me about Malone mentioning my name. She’s a bit paranoid, you see. Never got over our dad’s arrest. Or mine, for that. She was worried that I might be unfairly accused.”
“Now that’s odd, because she’s got a very different story.”
“Has she? My, she really is delusional these days.”
“Now I don’t believe in coincidences, Jack,” Gene said, sauntering over. “So if Malone’s name finds your ears and then we find Malone dead, I’m rather inclined to believe it’s linked. Now. Are you going to start playing nice, or am I going to have to start playing nasty?”
“Was that a threat, Mr Hunt?”
“No, this is!” Gene grabbed him by the collar and drew them face to face. “I don’t like this little game you’re playing, but you should know something, Jacky boy. I never lose.”
Gene Hunt: the walking cliché. Sam’s mouth twitched in amusement and he was glad it wasn’t spotted.
Jack smoothed his shirt back as Gene released him. “That’s excessive violence. That’s not how things are done.”
“That wasn’t excessive, Jack. That was Gene being nice. God, he’s given me worse, and I’m not a suspect.”
“Yeah? Like it rough, do you Inspector?”
Sam’s eyebrows raised a notch and Gene growled ferally, but was prevented from springing by Sam’s quick hand on his arm.
“Fine, if you won’t talk to us, we’ll get something else to do the talking.” He drew out the tape player and saw Jack’s eyes widen slightly. He pressed the play button and slouched back, his arms folded as he watched every flicker in Jack’s expression.
…they won’t, either. I’m too good to leave evidence, and even if they do get something, I have the strings to make it ‘go missing’.
“Care to tell us why you might be worried about evidence against you, Jack?”
“Why don’t you tell me, Inspector, if you actually have anything on me?”
“Cocky, aren’t you lad? It’s funny: it’s always the confident ones that eventually slip up,” Gene said airily. Jack scowled.
You’re not going to…kill…
“Why would your own sister be worried about you killing, Jack? Might it be implied that you have in fact done it before?”
“I didn’t let her finish. ‘You’re not going to go to Killer’s Den.’ It’s a place we used to go as children, creepy little spot in the suburbs. She was always scared of it.”
Gene and Sam exchanged a glance. Sam expelled a sigh. “Enough of this. Let’s talk about our mutual friend, Jack.”
“Sally?”
“DCI Morgan.”
Surprise lit up Jack’s eyes. Sam grinned at him and the snippet of conversation filled the room, but by this stage King had carefully schooled his features. Sam steepled his fingers, looking at Jack over them. “What’s the plan you talk of, Jack?”
“How’d you know that’s DCI Morgan?”
The photo of Morgan leaving the house was pushed wordlessly towards him and Jack’s jaw clenched.
“He asked you a question, King,” Gene said dangerously.
“C’mon, Jack, you don’t want to be mixed up in something like this. Scandal involving a copper, a DCI no less, it will be all over the papers. No one will rest until it’s thoroughly investigated. Help us out, and the judges will be lenient. Hell, you might even be honoured, exposing corruption.”
“Corruption, DI Tyler? No no. I am helping Mr Morgan with a case. I was witness to a robbery in the Hyde district, it’s why I moved here. The plan you heard us refer to is a plan to snare the suspect. Check it out. The suspect’s one Robson Cathway.”
“Oh we will check it out,” Sam said, but his insides were clenched. They had nothing, and King was going to walk away.
“If you want corruption, Mr Tyler, you don’t want to be looking at DCI Morgan, as you well know.”
“I don’t know what you’re insinuating, Mr King.”
“You do, Tyler.” Jack glanced maliciously at Gene. “It’s an awfully nice car you drive, Mr Hunt. Fond of it, are you?” Gene growled, making Jack smirk. “You have nothing on me, boys, just as you had nothing on me regarding the Alice in Wonderland cases. Now can I go?”
“I don’t think so, sunshine. You’re staying here for a while.”
“You can’t do that! You have no evidence!”
“We have enough, Mr King,” Sam said slowly, happy to go along with Gene’s rule-bending on this occasion. “Plus we have reason to believe that your sister might be in physical danger.”
“You can’t detain me!”
Gene grinned nastily and wandered over to King, getting in his face. “I don’t know where you learnt that from, Mr King, but this isn’t Hyde. This is my kingdom. And I can keep you as long as you want.”
***
“Told you so.”
“Shut up, Gene.”
“He thinks he’s untouchable. He was never going to crack under interrogation.”
“Shut up, Gene!”
“That’s guv to you, Inspector, and don’t you take this out on me! You take enough liberties as it is!”
“As many as you, Mr I-deserve-sexual-favours-just-because-I’m-actually-taking-your-advice-for-once?” Sam snapped.
Gene smirked and stepped into his personal space. “Thanks for reminding me, Tyler. I’d quite forgotten your little promise.”
Sam stared. Then he threw his hands up in despair. “Gah! You are impossible to work with!” he shot at Gene, moving away from the tempting heat the DCI’s body offered.
“You’re a delightful yourself, Gladys; easiest man to work with in the world,” Gene retorted, and if Sam didn’t know the man better he could have sworn that the beginnings of a sulky pout were appearing on his face. “You know how I love insubordinate, arsey, nit-picking Inspectors…”
“Oh I think that’s exactly what you love, Gene,” Sam retorted, the innuendo bitter. Gene raised an eyebrow and Sam sighed, shaking himself mentally. “This isn’t getting us anywhere.”
“Apart from into a compromising position…” Gene muttered and Sam shot him a look. “What? Everyone’s gone home, Tyler.” Suggestion laced his voice and he prowled closer.
But he was too close and Sam couldn’t breathe. This was bizarre. They’d crossed the line that wasn’t to be crossed, and now that it had been removed the ‘homophobic’ Gene apparently had no qualms at all. Sam wasn’t quite so comfortable, with what had previously been suppressed desire coming to the forefront of his working day. It was too much too quickly on top of everything else and he swallowed hard.
Gene caught his expression and sighed. “Fine, all work and no play it is.” He withdrew from Sam, regarding his DI with some degree of irritation. “What now then, fairy-boy? What else have you got in your sack of magic tricks?”
Sam suddenly felt absolutely exhausted. He turned away and sank into Gene’s sofa, head in his hands. “I don’t know. No one that arrogant can go without making a mistake. We go back to the start, check all the details again.”
“All the while letting him stew in a cell? We’re working on limited time, Sam.”
“At least when he’s in there he’s not doing the ‘next stage of the plan’.”
“Oh, so we’re bending the rules, again hmm? Holding prisoners without evidence?”
“Don’t start, Gene,” Sam pleaded tiredly.
He heard the clink of glasses and the slosh of a bottle. He raised his face from the warm confines of his hands and blinked as a glass of the amber whiskey was pushed into them instead. The look in Gene’s eyes was odd; it might have been well-concealed concern, or maybe just disapproval at the bags under Sam’s eyes. A cigarette packet appeared under his nose soon after and he considered it thoughtfully. Well why the hell not. He was stressed and exhausted and the disgust of 2007 was miles away. Not to mention it made kissing Gene better if he too tasted like an ashtray. Not that he was planning to kiss Gene.
He took the drink and quirked a grin at Gene. “Do you know I think you’re a rather bad influence on me, DCI Hunt.”
The lighter clicked, the fire reflected briefly in Gene’s eyes. “You shouldn’t make it so much fun to corrupt you then, Tyler.” He lit one himself, leaning against his desk, arms folded, classic Sheriff pose.
Sam watched him and chewed his lip, torn between the desire to forget everything and lose himself in Gene and the urge to make sense of his churning thoughts. Eventually his mind won, resolutely ignoring the pleas of his dick, and he sank back into the lumpy sofa, hand rubbing his chin. “Think, Tyler,” he muttered to himself. “Where would he have slipped up? What might be left?”
“Is this how the mastermind works?” Gene asked in amusement. “You mutter gibberish to yourself? First sign of madness, that is. Will go nicely with of all the other signs of madness you display.”
Sam ignored him. “I wonder… Back to the start. But which start? Maybe, just maybe… That might explain Morgan. But how? The trail will be dead. Unless the records…”
“Oi! Are you going to mutter away all night or fill me in, princess!” Gene snapped.
“What if we went back to the Alice cases, guv? Got him on something there?”
Gene narrowed his eyes. “Unlikely. That case is buried deep. Morgan will have made sure of that.”
“Well precisely. He took me off the case before, meaning that just maybe there was something there that Morgan needed to bury.”
“And how are we going to find that? Because I’m telling you this, now Tyler, you are not putting me back into a bleeding squirrel costume and sending me stealing.”
He laughed despite himself at the memory. “If only.”
Gene glared at him. “I don’t know, Tyler. I think we should be concentrating on the Oz cases, not digging up the past.”
“But it’s all related,” Sam pointed out, flicking ash into a convenient tray. They seemed to be all over Gene’s office.
Gene gave him a piercing look and knocked back his whiskey. “Are you sure you don’t have an alternative motive for digging up the past, DI Williams?” he growled softly.
Sam’s head snapped up, disbelief and anger erasing the brief humour like a flash. “Don’t ever call me that,” he whispered.
“Don’t ever give me a reason to.”
“When have I ever…” He stopped. But of course he had given Gene reason to. Slowly he realised that this confusion and guilt would never leave him. It would forever be in the back of his mind, clashing and fighting with memories of 2007 until everything was just a mess, including Sam himself. He rather felt like crying, but not now, not in front of Gene, so he stood up, draining his glass. “I have to go. See you in the morning.”
And deep inside he was hoping that the hand would catch his arm, offering with it some kind of twisted comfort, and grab him it did, tugging until he was face to face with Gene.
“Listen, Tyler.” Back to Tyler then, and Sam released a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “I expect Morgan will come storming down here at some point demanding the release of King, trying to explain himself. We can ask for the old case files then, see what’s there. If he’s got nothing to hide, he’ll bring them. Okay?”
Sam nodded tightly, still holding back just slightly. “Okay, guv.”
“Good, Inspector. Now. Onto other business.”
A sharp yank and he had tumbled forward into the broad chest, Gene’s fingers catching his chin to tilt his head and a greedy mouth settling on his own. Helplessly he opened up to the questing lips and pressed closer to the warmth and security offered. Gene’s hands slid down and he pushed Sam’s hips into his own, eliciting a breaking of the kiss and a groan from both men.
“Come back to mine,” Sam gasped out as Gene backed him towards his desk.
“Are you kidding? It’s been torture watching your bleeding arse all day and not being able to grab it. I’m not waiting,” Gene growled. “Now stop yapping.”
A hand moved behind Sam and there was a rustle as all of Gene’s paperwork and junk was swept off the desk in one move to flutter to the floor.
“That will take ages to sort out,” Sam chided before he could help himself.
“Well I do tell you not to give me anything to read, Nancy. Teach you not to listen to me,” Gene breathed against his lips. He smirked dangerously and Sam gulped.
Suddenly his arm was grabbed and twisted behind him as Gene spun him and bent him over the table in the classic arresting pose. Sam gasped in surprise, face turned to one side against the cold wood. Fingers stroked down his shoulder to his hip and he shuddered, pushing back against the warm body pressed into him. Then he felt Gene lean over him and hot breath brushed his ear.
“Sure as hell won’t be able to look at this desk in the same way ever again after I’ve fucked you into it,” Gene murmured.
Oh God, and neither would Sam. He didn’t want to think about the number of times he had dreamt about this very situation and he was pleasantly surprised to find that the reality was even better. Gene was kissing the back of his neck as he somehow managed to grind even closer into Sam’s body. The problem with fantasies though is that you often forget to think of the essentials; it’s irrelevant in daydreams but Sam groaned hopelessly into the table as he realised what the wonderful scene they presented was missing.
“Um… Gene? Hate to ruin your fantasies, but unless you are going to shock me in a very nasty way and produce some lube from your desk draw, you are not fucking me into anything.”
The lips against his skin stopped and Sam let out a tiny noise of protest as the body moulded into his was suddenly gone. “Damn it, Tyler!” Gene snapped.
Sam pushed up off the desk. “I wouldn’t panic too much, guv. After all, it seems that according to you, I owe you. And I never break my promises,” he said softly. Gene took in the look on his DI’s face and regarded him in suspicion until Sam moved onto his knees in front of him.
“I was only joking you know, Tyler,” he said tightly.
“Well if you want me to stop, just say…” Sam said, glancing up.
But strong hands moved to the back of his head, so Sam obediently eased the zipper in front of him open and urged down pants and trousers, wasting no time in taking as much of Gene in as he could and revelling in the strangled sound produced above him. Gene leant back against his filing cabinet, eyes closed, and Sam couldn’t help finding the irony in the situation. How far they’d come from that first encounter. Well, actually not all that far, given that the rush of desire he had felt then was just the same now. Only now, they were both actually doing something about it.
He turned his attention back to the job in hand, or rather mouth, and pulled back slightly to tease with his tongue, swirling and licking, moving with the jerk of Gene’s hips. Given the build-up of frustration over the day it was never going to take long, and soon Sam’s name was sliding desperately from Gene’s lips as he came, Sam swallowing with some difficulty and withdrawing, sliding back up Gene’s body to steal a quick kiss.
“Know what, Gladys?” Gene said, opening one eye.
“What’s that, guv?”
“I think I might be more willing to listen to you in the future if that’s your idea of repayment.”
Sam grinned and nipped at Gene’s bottom lip. “Oh how you know I will hold you to that.”
***
Sam was temporarily pacified with King behind bars and the expectation that Morgan would soon loom up to cover his back, but the following day was too quiet. King still said nothing, though Sam noted that he was looking tense and worried. But while Sam was champing at the bit and pacing up and down, Gene was aggravatingly unruffled. His unique solution to his DI’s terse temper was by method of distraction, which seemed to involve sneaking hands where they shouldn’t be and innuendo-laced comments whispered that would make Sam’s head jerk up and a faint blush to stain his cheeks. Relationships at work? Never easy.
Sam had to admit though that it worked partly, but only so far as his thoughts were occupied by something equally as infuriating as the King case. Still, there are worse ways to be distracted, he pondered, lying sated in his bed that night with Gene exiting through his door. He had wanted him to stay, half-begged in fact, but Gene had just arched an eyebrow, called him a sissy, grabbed his coat and left.
The exhausting sex gave him a brief few hours peaceful sleep, yet as he stirred for reasons unknown, a highly unwelcome noise filled his ears. A high pitched buzzing and a faint blue glow from the television which he knew he had switched off. No. This was all over. Hardly daring to, he slowly sat up and opened his eyes.
The Test Card was empty.
“Only cowards jump, Sam. But you haven’t run far enough, have you? Poor dear.”
He gasped and jerked his head around. She was sat in the corner, clown in her lap, the shadows falling across her face.
He swallowed hard, but his mouth was dry. “No. No you aren’t here,” he muttered.
“You can’t run from the past Sam. Hide and seek, but who’s doing the seeking?”
“Go away, go away, you’re not here,” he whispered hysterically over and over.
“I’m still your only friend. You’ll only hurt your other playmates in the end.”
“You’re wrong,” Sam snapped fiercely. “I am not Sam Williams, I am Sam Tyler! I don’t betray those I love!”
“There are scars left behind, Sam,” she said, shaking her head. His hand clutched reflexively at his forearm, making her giggle. “So naïve. Better be careful now. Could all go up with a big BANG!”
He shouted out in fear, but she was gone, smiling and innocent back in the TV.
Oh God. This was supposed to be over. He had thought she was gone forever. He flopped back onto the squeaky little bed and shook, his eyes wide in the dark. It was never over. He was back here all over again.
But wait. Scars in the past. Things left behind. Hurting those you love…
Sam suddenly realised that there might be a way to get answers after all.
***
“Guv!” he called as he burst into his office that morning. “I might have a line of enquiry! Listen, do you remember that we talked about Ramsay and the…”
“No time, Tyler!” was the terse reply. Sam halted. Gene put the receiver he had been clutching in one hand down with a bang. “Get everyone out of the station.”
“What?”
“Did that require you to question my orders? Move them all, now!”
Gene swept out of the office, bellowing orders. “Chris, Ray, get a bunch of plod and help Phyllis get the prisoners out now! Everyone else, down to the car park. Bloody shift!”
“Gene..?”
Sam ran after Gene as he ushered everyone out, checking every room before he grabbed his DI’s arm and bodily shoved him towards the exit. “Anonymous tip off. The Wizard does some wonderful things. Can make things disappear with a bang.”
“A bomb?” Sam asked slowly.
“Bingo. Goes off in half an hour.”
“Where?”
Gene grimaced and they burst out into the open air. “That, Tyler, is apparently half the game.”
“Oh great.”
The panic was clear in the mayhem of the car park, but Sam half-floated through it, his mind in overdrive. A bomb? That was certainly new, a rather unwelcome addition to the game. Something was tugging in the back of his mind, but he couldn’t quite place it.
“I need to find that bomb, Tyler,” Gene called curtly. “C’mon, think, brainbox!”
Coppers were running around giving the building a very rapid sweep and checking under cars, but Sam and Gene both knew that with the tight deadline, it was pointless. There must have been a clue somewhere. It was a game, after all.
“He must have said something,” Sam murmured.
Gene glared, agitated by the tense situation. “Right, so what the hell was it!”
“I don’t know! If you would let me think…”
But he did know, he realised suddenly, and his gaze snapped up to Gene’s.
“What? What is it, Tyler?”
Sam winced. “Um. You won’t like this.”
“WHAT?”
Sam cleared his throat slightly. “It’s an awfully nice car you drive, Mr Hunt. Fond of it, are you?” he quoted softly.
Gene froze and Sam momentarily feared for his life. “Bastard!” he shouted finally. “Get the Cortina checked and sectioned off! Bastard son of a bitch!”
A copper ran over, ducked under, and nodded at Gene, who swore rather impressively. Sam didn’t want to consider what would happen if the beloved bronze car got blown up.
And it was about to get worse. Sam caught sight of Ray coming over out of the corner of his eye, his arm wrapped around a limping Chris and his expression grim. Sam tugged Gene’s arm and they both ran towards them, taking in the bruises on Chris’s face and every wince the DC made.
“Chris, what happened?” Gene asked quickly, Cortina briefly forgotten in the face the injury of one of his well-protected team. “Someone get an ambulance!”
“I’m fine, guv,” Chris said, his voice sounding strained. “I’m so sorry!” The young lad looked devastated and Sam went instinctively towards him, hand on his arm.
“What is it, Chris?” he asked with as much gentleness as he could muster.
“It’s King. He beat me up and legged it. God, I’m useless!”
The bottom of Sam’s stomach dropped out, but he felt no shock. He had known the moment Gene had put that phone down what was happening. He should have bloody seen it coming. Hesittantly, he met Gene’s gaze and saw his own feelings mirrored in the other man’s eyes, anger in the set of each one’s jaw.
“It’s not your fault, Chris. This was premeditated,” Sam said with quiet anger. “Bloody great! I knew it was too quiet!”
“Yeah well, nothing we can do now, is there?” Gene snarled. “Bastard, bastard, bastard son of a bitch!”
“This isn’t right,” Sam said, shaking his head. “Something’s off here.”
He started to walk away but was halted by Gene’s hand. “Where’re you off to now?”
“Thinking,” Sam shrugged. “Looking.”
Gene searched his face urgently. “Fine. I’m staying with Chris until the ambulance gets here. Try to get this lot under control.”
“Yes guv,” he said automatically, but his mind was elsewhere.
Slowly he wandered towards where the Cortina was gleaming innocently in the sunlight. A crowd of those working at the station and a few nosy members of the public stood warily back from the roping that marked off a safe zone. The prisoners had all been taken and incarcerated in police vehicles temporarily, or those that hadn’t escaped, Sam thought bitterly. With the station clear, they could technically be taken back, but no one dared move, every face turned to the Cortina.
But something was just not right. This was instinct now, Sam realised vaguely at the back of his mind, but he couldn’t help but follow the feeling. None of it made sense. Where would King have got the explosives from? It just wasn’t his style. Whatever he was trying to achieve, blowing up a policeman’s car wasn’t it. Unless it was just to piss Gene off, but even King had to know how stupid that was. This was a game. A game set to taunt and set them off guard. Sam was suddenly very sure of himself, for what, if he had stopped to think, were very shaky reasons, and his feet were walking towards the Cortina.
Everyone had frozen, not daring to move. Well, nearly everyone. It was taking Ray, Annie and several coppers to hold Gene back as Sam strode over to the car.
“Tyler don’t you dare! TYLER!” the bellow came from behind him, but he barely registered it as he ducked under the roping.
“S’ok, guv,” Sam threw over his shoulder as he sauntered ever closer, hands in his pockets.
Time seemed to slow and finally stop, the world stilling suddenly as he walked in slow motion towards the car. The only thing left in Sam’s ears was the desperate shouts of his DCI.
“Sam, no!”
Then silence.
Title: Follow the yellow brick road (Part Six)
Rating: Brown Cortina (Slash and swearing)
Pairings: Sam/Gene
Spoilers: 2.02, 2.07 and 2.08 are the important ones.
Summary: Sam and Gene interview King, but soon discover that he's one step ahead of them once again.
Disclaimer: None of the characters are mine.
A/N: Still going! Once again, thanks to everybody who's still reading, All reviews critical or otherwise are gratefully received.
“Good evening, Mr King,” Sam said casually.
“DI Tyler. What a pleasure to have finally met you properly.”
Sam couldn’t help the shiver that ran down his back. “And why’s that, Jack?”
“Heard a lot about you, you know. Most of it good.”
It was a horrible feeling being quietly assessed by this young man who quite possibly knew things about Sam, or Sam Williams at least, that he himself had no idea of.
“Oh, shall we all tell each other a little bit about ourselves?” Gene snapped from where he stood in the shadows, breaking Sam’s mood. “This isn’t a bloody coffee morning at the WI!”
Focused once more, Sam leant forward, smiling pleasantly. “Why don’t you tell us a story, Mr King. How about the Wizard of Oz?”
Jack laughed and gave Sam a piercing look. “Oh, Mr Tyler. I’m not the one who thinks he’s the Wizard.”
And Sam wondered instantly what the hell he meant by that.
“Who does then, Jacky boy? Because here and now all the evidence suggests it might be you,” Gene said strolling over.
“Do enlighten me.”
Sam slid a photo over the table. “Here we have you talking to two well-known bank robbers, Gary Letts and James Price. And look, Jack, that’s a nice wad of money you’re handing over. Later on the local safe gets broken into.”
“Are they robbers? I just play poker with them. I owed them a bit of money.”
Well, they could check that story, but Sam feared a contingent plan had been made. Talking to the two robbers was likely to be unproductive; they were inconsequential in the grand scheme, though Gene had vowed to sort the two out as soon as they had King’s collar. Sam ploughed on regardless of Jack’s easy evasion.
“We have a witness statement, from one Sally King.” Sam was pleased to note that Jack’s jaw tightened. “Says you instructed her to steal your old case file.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Search my house. There’s no file.”
“Oh we will tear it apart as soon as possible, Jack,” Gene drawled, taking a drag of his cigarette. “Though I’m sure you will have destroyed the file by now.”
Jack smirked cockily. “What file?”
Sam leant back in his chair and carried on reading the witness statement. “Also says that she told you that one Arnold Malone had spoken to us about you, given us your name in relation to robbery.”
“So? Malone’s word counts for nothing,” Jack shrugged.
“A day later, Mr Malone was found dead,” Sam continued, giving Jack an assessing look.
“I’m sorry to hear that. Sure, Sally told me about Malone mentioning my name. She’s a bit paranoid, you see. Never got over our dad’s arrest. Or mine, for that. She was worried that I might be unfairly accused.”
“Now that’s odd, because she’s got a very different story.”
“Has she? My, she really is delusional these days.”
“Now I don’t believe in coincidences, Jack,” Gene said, sauntering over. “So if Malone’s name finds your ears and then we find Malone dead, I’m rather inclined to believe it’s linked. Now. Are you going to start playing nice, or am I going to have to start playing nasty?”
“Was that a threat, Mr Hunt?”
“No, this is!” Gene grabbed him by the collar and drew them face to face. “I don’t like this little game you’re playing, but you should know something, Jacky boy. I never lose.”
Gene Hunt: the walking cliché. Sam’s mouth twitched in amusement and he was glad it wasn’t spotted.
Jack smoothed his shirt back as Gene released him. “That’s excessive violence. That’s not how things are done.”
“That wasn’t excessive, Jack. That was Gene being nice. God, he’s given me worse, and I’m not a suspect.”
“Yeah? Like it rough, do you Inspector?”
Sam’s eyebrows raised a notch and Gene growled ferally, but was prevented from springing by Sam’s quick hand on his arm.
“Fine, if you won’t talk to us, we’ll get something else to do the talking.” He drew out the tape player and saw Jack’s eyes widen slightly. He pressed the play button and slouched back, his arms folded as he watched every flicker in Jack’s expression.
…they won’t, either. I’m too good to leave evidence, and even if they do get something, I have the strings to make it ‘go missing’.
“Care to tell us why you might be worried about evidence against you, Jack?”
“Why don’t you tell me, Inspector, if you actually have anything on me?”
“Cocky, aren’t you lad? It’s funny: it’s always the confident ones that eventually slip up,” Gene said airily. Jack scowled.
You’re not going to…kill…
“Why would your own sister be worried about you killing, Jack? Might it be implied that you have in fact done it before?”
“I didn’t let her finish. ‘You’re not going to go to Killer’s Den.’ It’s a place we used to go as children, creepy little spot in the suburbs. She was always scared of it.”
Gene and Sam exchanged a glance. Sam expelled a sigh. “Enough of this. Let’s talk about our mutual friend, Jack.”
“Sally?”
“DCI Morgan.”
Surprise lit up Jack’s eyes. Sam grinned at him and the snippet of conversation filled the room, but by this stage King had carefully schooled his features. Sam steepled his fingers, looking at Jack over them. “What’s the plan you talk of, Jack?”
“How’d you know that’s DCI Morgan?”
The photo of Morgan leaving the house was pushed wordlessly towards him and Jack’s jaw clenched.
“He asked you a question, King,” Gene said dangerously.
“C’mon, Jack, you don’t want to be mixed up in something like this. Scandal involving a copper, a DCI no less, it will be all over the papers. No one will rest until it’s thoroughly investigated. Help us out, and the judges will be lenient. Hell, you might even be honoured, exposing corruption.”
“Corruption, DI Tyler? No no. I am helping Mr Morgan with a case. I was witness to a robbery in the Hyde district, it’s why I moved here. The plan you heard us refer to is a plan to snare the suspect. Check it out. The suspect’s one Robson Cathway.”
“Oh we will check it out,” Sam said, but his insides were clenched. They had nothing, and King was going to walk away.
“If you want corruption, Mr Tyler, you don’t want to be looking at DCI Morgan, as you well know.”
“I don’t know what you’re insinuating, Mr King.”
“You do, Tyler.” Jack glanced maliciously at Gene. “It’s an awfully nice car you drive, Mr Hunt. Fond of it, are you?” Gene growled, making Jack smirk. “You have nothing on me, boys, just as you had nothing on me regarding the Alice in Wonderland cases. Now can I go?”
“I don’t think so, sunshine. You’re staying here for a while.”
“You can’t do that! You have no evidence!”
“We have enough, Mr King,” Sam said slowly, happy to go along with Gene’s rule-bending on this occasion. “Plus we have reason to believe that your sister might be in physical danger.”
“You can’t detain me!”
Gene grinned nastily and wandered over to King, getting in his face. “I don’t know where you learnt that from, Mr King, but this isn’t Hyde. This is my kingdom. And I can keep you as long as you want.”
***
“Told you so.”
“Shut up, Gene.”
“He thinks he’s untouchable. He was never going to crack under interrogation.”
“Shut up, Gene!”
“That’s guv to you, Inspector, and don’t you take this out on me! You take enough liberties as it is!”
“As many as you, Mr I-deserve-sexual-favours-just-because-I’m-actually-taking-your-advice-for-once?” Sam snapped.
Gene smirked and stepped into his personal space. “Thanks for reminding me, Tyler. I’d quite forgotten your little promise.”
Sam stared. Then he threw his hands up in despair. “Gah! You are impossible to work with!” he shot at Gene, moving away from the tempting heat the DCI’s body offered.
“You’re a delightful yourself, Gladys; easiest man to work with in the world,” Gene retorted, and if Sam didn’t know the man better he could have sworn that the beginnings of a sulky pout were appearing on his face. “You know how I love insubordinate, arsey, nit-picking Inspectors…”
“Oh I think that’s exactly what you love, Gene,” Sam retorted, the innuendo bitter. Gene raised an eyebrow and Sam sighed, shaking himself mentally. “This isn’t getting us anywhere.”
“Apart from into a compromising position…” Gene muttered and Sam shot him a look. “What? Everyone’s gone home, Tyler.” Suggestion laced his voice and he prowled closer.
But he was too close and Sam couldn’t breathe. This was bizarre. They’d crossed the line that wasn’t to be crossed, and now that it had been removed the ‘homophobic’ Gene apparently had no qualms at all. Sam wasn’t quite so comfortable, with what had previously been suppressed desire coming to the forefront of his working day. It was too much too quickly on top of everything else and he swallowed hard.
Gene caught his expression and sighed. “Fine, all work and no play it is.” He withdrew from Sam, regarding his DI with some degree of irritation. “What now then, fairy-boy? What else have you got in your sack of magic tricks?”
Sam suddenly felt absolutely exhausted. He turned away and sank into Gene’s sofa, head in his hands. “I don’t know. No one that arrogant can go without making a mistake. We go back to the start, check all the details again.”
“All the while letting him stew in a cell? We’re working on limited time, Sam.”
“At least when he’s in there he’s not doing the ‘next stage of the plan’.”
“Oh, so we’re bending the rules, again hmm? Holding prisoners without evidence?”
“Don’t start, Gene,” Sam pleaded tiredly.
He heard the clink of glasses and the slosh of a bottle. He raised his face from the warm confines of his hands and blinked as a glass of the amber whiskey was pushed into them instead. The look in Gene’s eyes was odd; it might have been well-concealed concern, or maybe just disapproval at the bags under Sam’s eyes. A cigarette packet appeared under his nose soon after and he considered it thoughtfully. Well why the hell not. He was stressed and exhausted and the disgust of 2007 was miles away. Not to mention it made kissing Gene better if he too tasted like an ashtray. Not that he was planning to kiss Gene.
He took the drink and quirked a grin at Gene. “Do you know I think you’re a rather bad influence on me, DCI Hunt.”
The lighter clicked, the fire reflected briefly in Gene’s eyes. “You shouldn’t make it so much fun to corrupt you then, Tyler.” He lit one himself, leaning against his desk, arms folded, classic Sheriff pose.
Sam watched him and chewed his lip, torn between the desire to forget everything and lose himself in Gene and the urge to make sense of his churning thoughts. Eventually his mind won, resolutely ignoring the pleas of his dick, and he sank back into the lumpy sofa, hand rubbing his chin. “Think, Tyler,” he muttered to himself. “Where would he have slipped up? What might be left?”
“Is this how the mastermind works?” Gene asked in amusement. “You mutter gibberish to yourself? First sign of madness, that is. Will go nicely with of all the other signs of madness you display.”
Sam ignored him. “I wonder… Back to the start. But which start? Maybe, just maybe… That might explain Morgan. But how? The trail will be dead. Unless the records…”
“Oi! Are you going to mutter away all night or fill me in, princess!” Gene snapped.
“What if we went back to the Alice cases, guv? Got him on something there?”
Gene narrowed his eyes. “Unlikely. That case is buried deep. Morgan will have made sure of that.”
“Well precisely. He took me off the case before, meaning that just maybe there was something there that Morgan needed to bury.”
“And how are we going to find that? Because I’m telling you this, now Tyler, you are not putting me back into a bleeding squirrel costume and sending me stealing.”
He laughed despite himself at the memory. “If only.”
Gene glared at him. “I don’t know, Tyler. I think we should be concentrating on the Oz cases, not digging up the past.”
“But it’s all related,” Sam pointed out, flicking ash into a convenient tray. They seemed to be all over Gene’s office.
Gene gave him a piercing look and knocked back his whiskey. “Are you sure you don’t have an alternative motive for digging up the past, DI Williams?” he growled softly.
Sam’s head snapped up, disbelief and anger erasing the brief humour like a flash. “Don’t ever call me that,” he whispered.
“Don’t ever give me a reason to.”
“When have I ever…” He stopped. But of course he had given Gene reason to. Slowly he realised that this confusion and guilt would never leave him. It would forever be in the back of his mind, clashing and fighting with memories of 2007 until everything was just a mess, including Sam himself. He rather felt like crying, but not now, not in front of Gene, so he stood up, draining his glass. “I have to go. See you in the morning.”
And deep inside he was hoping that the hand would catch his arm, offering with it some kind of twisted comfort, and grab him it did, tugging until he was face to face with Gene.
“Listen, Tyler.” Back to Tyler then, and Sam released a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “I expect Morgan will come storming down here at some point demanding the release of King, trying to explain himself. We can ask for the old case files then, see what’s there. If he’s got nothing to hide, he’ll bring them. Okay?”
Sam nodded tightly, still holding back just slightly. “Okay, guv.”
“Good, Inspector. Now. Onto other business.”
A sharp yank and he had tumbled forward into the broad chest, Gene’s fingers catching his chin to tilt his head and a greedy mouth settling on his own. Helplessly he opened up to the questing lips and pressed closer to the warmth and security offered. Gene’s hands slid down and he pushed Sam’s hips into his own, eliciting a breaking of the kiss and a groan from both men.
“Come back to mine,” Sam gasped out as Gene backed him towards his desk.
“Are you kidding? It’s been torture watching your bleeding arse all day and not being able to grab it. I’m not waiting,” Gene growled. “Now stop yapping.”
A hand moved behind Sam and there was a rustle as all of Gene’s paperwork and junk was swept off the desk in one move to flutter to the floor.
“That will take ages to sort out,” Sam chided before he could help himself.
“Well I do tell you not to give me anything to read, Nancy. Teach you not to listen to me,” Gene breathed against his lips. He smirked dangerously and Sam gulped.
Suddenly his arm was grabbed and twisted behind him as Gene spun him and bent him over the table in the classic arresting pose. Sam gasped in surprise, face turned to one side against the cold wood. Fingers stroked down his shoulder to his hip and he shuddered, pushing back against the warm body pressed into him. Then he felt Gene lean over him and hot breath brushed his ear.
“Sure as hell won’t be able to look at this desk in the same way ever again after I’ve fucked you into it,” Gene murmured.
Oh God, and neither would Sam. He didn’t want to think about the number of times he had dreamt about this very situation and he was pleasantly surprised to find that the reality was even better. Gene was kissing the back of his neck as he somehow managed to grind even closer into Sam’s body. The problem with fantasies though is that you often forget to think of the essentials; it’s irrelevant in daydreams but Sam groaned hopelessly into the table as he realised what the wonderful scene they presented was missing.
“Um… Gene? Hate to ruin your fantasies, but unless you are going to shock me in a very nasty way and produce some lube from your desk draw, you are not fucking me into anything.”
The lips against his skin stopped and Sam let out a tiny noise of protest as the body moulded into his was suddenly gone. “Damn it, Tyler!” Gene snapped.
Sam pushed up off the desk. “I wouldn’t panic too much, guv. After all, it seems that according to you, I owe you. And I never break my promises,” he said softly. Gene took in the look on his DI’s face and regarded him in suspicion until Sam moved onto his knees in front of him.
“I was only joking you know, Tyler,” he said tightly.
“Well if you want me to stop, just say…” Sam said, glancing up.
But strong hands moved to the back of his head, so Sam obediently eased the zipper in front of him open and urged down pants and trousers, wasting no time in taking as much of Gene in as he could and revelling in the strangled sound produced above him. Gene leant back against his filing cabinet, eyes closed, and Sam couldn’t help finding the irony in the situation. How far they’d come from that first encounter. Well, actually not all that far, given that the rush of desire he had felt then was just the same now. Only now, they were both actually doing something about it.
He turned his attention back to the job in hand, or rather mouth, and pulled back slightly to tease with his tongue, swirling and licking, moving with the jerk of Gene’s hips. Given the build-up of frustration over the day it was never going to take long, and soon Sam’s name was sliding desperately from Gene’s lips as he came, Sam swallowing with some difficulty and withdrawing, sliding back up Gene’s body to steal a quick kiss.
“Know what, Gladys?” Gene said, opening one eye.
“What’s that, guv?”
“I think I might be more willing to listen to you in the future if that’s your idea of repayment.”
Sam grinned and nipped at Gene’s bottom lip. “Oh how you know I will hold you to that.”
***
Sam was temporarily pacified with King behind bars and the expectation that Morgan would soon loom up to cover his back, but the following day was too quiet. King still said nothing, though Sam noted that he was looking tense and worried. But while Sam was champing at the bit and pacing up and down, Gene was aggravatingly unruffled. His unique solution to his DI’s terse temper was by method of distraction, which seemed to involve sneaking hands where they shouldn’t be and innuendo-laced comments whispered that would make Sam’s head jerk up and a faint blush to stain his cheeks. Relationships at work? Never easy.
Sam had to admit though that it worked partly, but only so far as his thoughts were occupied by something equally as infuriating as the King case. Still, there are worse ways to be distracted, he pondered, lying sated in his bed that night with Gene exiting through his door. He had wanted him to stay, half-begged in fact, but Gene had just arched an eyebrow, called him a sissy, grabbed his coat and left.
The exhausting sex gave him a brief few hours peaceful sleep, yet as he stirred for reasons unknown, a highly unwelcome noise filled his ears. A high pitched buzzing and a faint blue glow from the television which he knew he had switched off. No. This was all over. Hardly daring to, he slowly sat up and opened his eyes.
The Test Card was empty.
“Only cowards jump, Sam. But you haven’t run far enough, have you? Poor dear.”
He gasped and jerked his head around. She was sat in the corner, clown in her lap, the shadows falling across her face.
He swallowed hard, but his mouth was dry. “No. No you aren’t here,” he muttered.
“You can’t run from the past Sam. Hide and seek, but who’s doing the seeking?”
“Go away, go away, you’re not here,” he whispered hysterically over and over.
“I’m still your only friend. You’ll only hurt your other playmates in the end.”
“You’re wrong,” Sam snapped fiercely. “I am not Sam Williams, I am Sam Tyler! I don’t betray those I love!”
“There are scars left behind, Sam,” she said, shaking her head. His hand clutched reflexively at his forearm, making her giggle. “So naïve. Better be careful now. Could all go up with a big BANG!”
He shouted out in fear, but she was gone, smiling and innocent back in the TV.
Oh God. This was supposed to be over. He had thought she was gone forever. He flopped back onto the squeaky little bed and shook, his eyes wide in the dark. It was never over. He was back here all over again.
But wait. Scars in the past. Things left behind. Hurting those you love…
Sam suddenly realised that there might be a way to get answers after all.
***
“Guv!” he called as he burst into his office that morning. “I might have a line of enquiry! Listen, do you remember that we talked about Ramsay and the…”
“No time, Tyler!” was the terse reply. Sam halted. Gene put the receiver he had been clutching in one hand down with a bang. “Get everyone out of the station.”
“What?”
“Did that require you to question my orders? Move them all, now!”
Gene swept out of the office, bellowing orders. “Chris, Ray, get a bunch of plod and help Phyllis get the prisoners out now! Everyone else, down to the car park. Bloody shift!”
“Gene..?”
Sam ran after Gene as he ushered everyone out, checking every room before he grabbed his DI’s arm and bodily shoved him towards the exit. “Anonymous tip off. The Wizard does some wonderful things. Can make things disappear with a bang.”
“A bomb?” Sam asked slowly.
“Bingo. Goes off in half an hour.”
“Where?”
Gene grimaced and they burst out into the open air. “That, Tyler, is apparently half the game.”
“Oh great.”
The panic was clear in the mayhem of the car park, but Sam half-floated through it, his mind in overdrive. A bomb? That was certainly new, a rather unwelcome addition to the game. Something was tugging in the back of his mind, but he couldn’t quite place it.
“I need to find that bomb, Tyler,” Gene called curtly. “C’mon, think, brainbox!”
Coppers were running around giving the building a very rapid sweep and checking under cars, but Sam and Gene both knew that with the tight deadline, it was pointless. There must have been a clue somewhere. It was a game, after all.
“He must have said something,” Sam murmured.
Gene glared, agitated by the tense situation. “Right, so what the hell was it!”
“I don’t know! If you would let me think…”
But he did know, he realised suddenly, and his gaze snapped up to Gene’s.
“What? What is it, Tyler?”
Sam winced. “Um. You won’t like this.”
“WHAT?”
Sam cleared his throat slightly. “It’s an awfully nice car you drive, Mr Hunt. Fond of it, are you?” he quoted softly.
Gene froze and Sam momentarily feared for his life. “Bastard!” he shouted finally. “Get the Cortina checked and sectioned off! Bastard son of a bitch!”
A copper ran over, ducked under, and nodded at Gene, who swore rather impressively. Sam didn’t want to consider what would happen if the beloved bronze car got blown up.
And it was about to get worse. Sam caught sight of Ray coming over out of the corner of his eye, his arm wrapped around a limping Chris and his expression grim. Sam tugged Gene’s arm and they both ran towards them, taking in the bruises on Chris’s face and every wince the DC made.
“Chris, what happened?” Gene asked quickly, Cortina briefly forgotten in the face the injury of one of his well-protected team. “Someone get an ambulance!”
“I’m fine, guv,” Chris said, his voice sounding strained. “I’m so sorry!” The young lad looked devastated and Sam went instinctively towards him, hand on his arm.
“What is it, Chris?” he asked with as much gentleness as he could muster.
“It’s King. He beat me up and legged it. God, I’m useless!”
The bottom of Sam’s stomach dropped out, but he felt no shock. He had known the moment Gene had put that phone down what was happening. He should have bloody seen it coming. Hesittantly, he met Gene’s gaze and saw his own feelings mirrored in the other man’s eyes, anger in the set of each one’s jaw.
“It’s not your fault, Chris. This was premeditated,” Sam said with quiet anger. “Bloody great! I knew it was too quiet!”
“Yeah well, nothing we can do now, is there?” Gene snarled. “Bastard, bastard, bastard son of a bitch!”
“This isn’t right,” Sam said, shaking his head. “Something’s off here.”
He started to walk away but was halted by Gene’s hand. “Where’re you off to now?”
“Thinking,” Sam shrugged. “Looking.”
Gene searched his face urgently. “Fine. I’m staying with Chris until the ambulance gets here. Try to get this lot under control.”
“Yes guv,” he said automatically, but his mind was elsewhere.
Slowly he wandered towards where the Cortina was gleaming innocently in the sunlight. A crowd of those working at the station and a few nosy members of the public stood warily back from the roping that marked off a safe zone. The prisoners had all been taken and incarcerated in police vehicles temporarily, or those that hadn’t escaped, Sam thought bitterly. With the station clear, they could technically be taken back, but no one dared move, every face turned to the Cortina.
But something was just not right. This was instinct now, Sam realised vaguely at the back of his mind, but he couldn’t help but follow the feeling. None of it made sense. Where would King have got the explosives from? It just wasn’t his style. Whatever he was trying to achieve, blowing up a policeman’s car wasn’t it. Unless it was just to piss Gene off, but even King had to know how stupid that was. This was a game. A game set to taunt and set them off guard. Sam was suddenly very sure of himself, for what, if he had stopped to think, were very shaky reasons, and his feet were walking towards the Cortina.
Everyone had frozen, not daring to move. Well, nearly everyone. It was taking Ray, Annie and several coppers to hold Gene back as Sam strode over to the car.
“Tyler don’t you dare! TYLER!” the bellow came from behind him, but he barely registered it as he ducked under the roping.
“S’ok, guv,” Sam threw over his shoulder as he sauntered ever closer, hands in his pockets.
Time seemed to slow and finally stop, the world stilling suddenly as he walked in slow motion towards the car. The only thing left in Sam’s ears was the desperate shouts of his DCI.
“Sam, no!”
Then silence.