Things fall apart 3/5 : Five minutes with me... by fawsley, green cortina with Gene and Sam
Title: Things fall apart 3/5 : Five minutes with me and you'll sing like a canary
Author: fawsley
Characters: Gene, Sam
Rating: green Cortina for language. Colours will I promise crank up in the next installment.
Warnings: none apart from fucking swearing.
Word Count: 1860
Disclaimer: not my characters, all the property of Kudos and the BBC
Notes: Yes, ah, well, indeed it is now going to be five parts as opposed to the originally intended four, because I just couldn't herd the boys to the point I wanted without a whole load of gob from the pair of them. So we're still riding in a green Cortina for language but there will be hot action at a later date, promise. But for the time being we're all sitting comfortably for tea and biscuits.
Previous eps here: 1: A Keystone Cop, 2: Norfolk Bronze
Things fall apart 3 : Five minutes with me and you'll sing like a canary
‘Shouldn’t have let you come here.’
‘S’the only place I’m goin’ to get a drink though isn’t it? And only civil after I’ve let yer sit in me own nice shiny car for the past half an hour, runnin’ yer mitts all over the woodwork an’ cooin’ like a ruddy pigeon had got in through the window.’
‘Was good, sitting in my… in that… seat again. So… whose seat is it now?’
‘Whoever I’m ridin’ with. Doesn’t belong to anyone in particular.’
‘Oh. Right… Um, beer or whisky? Which d’you want?’
‘Neither. Get us a nice cup o’ tea.’
‘Tea? What the fuck? You said you wanted booze! That’s why we’re here. For booze!’
‘You might be Tyler, but what I want is a nice hot cup of tea and a decent packet of biscuits, so hop to the kitchen and get it sorted. Need to keep me head clear on this one, whatever it turns out to be.’
‘You bastard! I didn’t want you here and you bloody well tricked me!’
‘Not surprised yer didn’t want me to see this place. It’s a pretty poxy shitehole isn’t it? No better than the last one.’
‘Wasn’t what I was promised.’
‘Promised, eh? Who promised yer what? And why? Come on Tyler, time for the truth my lad. Garibaldis! Excellent!’
‘Don’t want to talk about it.’
‘Lots of things in this world we don’t want but ‘ave to get on with. This is one of ‘em. What the fuck happened, Sam? You were there, then you were on leave, and then you were gone, just gone without a word. You went over my head, went direct to Rathbone. Why’d yer do that? The bastard won’t tell me anythin’ so any answers have to come from you. Start talkin’. We were a team, you an’ me, a good team, one of the best. So you owe me on this and you know it.’
‘Or what? You going to bounce me off the walls like usual?’
‘Doubt you’d bounce, more like stick, the state of yer wallpaper. So come on, someone promised yer somethin’, a nice new flat I take it, which this ain’t.’
‘S’got a good view of the cathedral.’
‘Sod the ruddy cathedral! Manchester’s got a perfectly good cathedral an' if all you wanted was a poncy pretty view, well… For fuck’s sake, Sam, you didn’t have to run away to Norwich to look at a bloody cathedral! Manchester's yer home, yer city, yer belong there Tyler, not in this arsehole back-end of beyond. Come on! What’s the rest of the story? Spit it out!’
‘I fucking knew this would happen if I let you come back here.’
‘Well then you also fuckin’ know to get on with it and tell me, before I have to pistol-whip you with the teapot.’
‘You can’t pistol-whip someone with a teapot, Guv.’
‘Teapot-whip yer then. I want the truth, so shut up and start talkin’.’
‘Can’t do both at once.’
‘Tyler!’
‘Okay, okay. I’ll tell you but then you must leave, okay, and that’s it. Nothing more.’
‘Who said anything about anything more?’
‘I mean, you go away and that’s it. You don’t come back here again and you forget about trying to get me back to Manchester, because that just isn’t going to happen, that’s impossible, okay?’
‘We’ll see about that later.’
‘Promise?’
‘On that one? Oh yes indeed! Cross my heart and hope to die. Satisfied now?’
‘Okay. Right, well… We’d fought, remember?’
‘No. We’re always fighting. One delightful ruckus blends into another. Don’t remember.’
‘The Quay Street robbery? Then Dale Street then Bridge Street? They were all linked, had to be, but you just wouldn’t have it, oh no!’
‘They weren’t. Separate cases. Solved. Crims banged up. Different crims. Finito.’
‘Doesn’t matter now. Anyway…’
‘Doesn’t matter? Doesn’t bloody matter? Obviously mattered enough at the time! Enough for you to go sobbin’ yer little heart out to Rathbone about it! Cos that’s what happened, isn’t it Tyler?’
‘Yeah, well, I was angry. You just wouldn’t listen, took me off the case.’
‘Good job too. Barking up the wrong tree entirely, you were. As usual.’
‘Do you want me to tell you anything or not? Because if not…’
‘Oh just get on with it vicar, and pour me another cup of tea. ‘
‘I was angry. Fucking furious. It seemed like the last straw on top of how I, well, the last straw… So yeah, I went above your head, went straight to Rathbone. And he offered me a transfer. Said there was a plum DI post going where I’d be properly appreciated. Would be waiting for me as soon as I got back from that leave I had booked. Didn’t think it’d happen so quickly, but it sounded so good… Said I’d get luxury accommodation - yeah, I know, I know - and a top of the range car and that the DCI was about to retire so I’d be made up within the year and…’
‘And you get the rabbit hutch from hell and DCI Dumpling. Don’t tell me, he’s still got ten years on the clock, yeah?’
‘At least.'
‘And the car?’
‘Well, there is a car…’
‘What sort?’
‘A car sort…’
‘What sort, Tyler?’
‘Erm, well… It’s a Marina…’
‘A what? A fuckin’ Marina? Give us a tea-towel, need somethin’ to wipe me tea up with. Bloody hell, Tyler, you could’ve driven the Cortina now and again if that’s what you’d wanted. Why didn’t yer just ask? Yer could’ve asked, yer know.’
‘It all seemed to offer just what I wanted at the time…’
‘More like what Rathbone wanted, yer mean. He hates me an’ he never liked you much either. Saw his chance and pounced on it. Shanghaied yer, Tyler. Or should that be Norwiched? Get rid of one of us and piss the other one off big time, rock the boat badly enough an’ it might just send me into the water too like he’s always wanted.’
‘Yeah. I can see all that now. But it hasn’t, has it? I mean, you’re okay, aren’t you? The team’s okay?’
‘The team’s a bloody shambles, Tyler. Carling’s renewed his belief in the Protestant smirk ethic, Skelton’s goin’ backward so fast he’ll be comin’ round to meet us from behind before we know it, Cartwright talks about yer like yer dead…’
‘And you?’
‘Me? Me? Do you have any idea how bloody boring Litton-baiting is by meself?’
‘That slimey little twat? God, I almost miss him! No, I meant you as in, well, you, the Guv, you know…’
‘I’m doing the best I can without a half-decent DI to blame for everything that goes wrong. Cartwright says I can pull the rest of ‘em back together, says that once they realise things are still operatin’ on British Tyler Time then it’ll all sort itself out. ‘
‘And is it? Operating on…’
‘Yeah, as much as I can make it. Not easy, though.’
‘So that’s what this is all about, then?’
‘What what’s all about?’
‘Why you’re here. Begging for me to come back because you can’t cope.’
‘Fuck it, Tyler, you are one arrogant jumped-up little sod!’
‘I’m also the best DI you’ve ever had.’
‘And a sneaky evasive little bastard into the bargain.’
‘What the hell do you mean by that?’
‘You’ve told me all about bein’ pissed off an’ goin’ sobbin’ to Rathbone cos you don’t get to drive the nice shiny brum-brum or chase the wrong crims for the wrong crimes. All professional stuff. But if I might quote you, DI Tyler, It was personal. Believe me. So now you’ve got warmed up and some tea an’ biscuits inside yer, I suggest you start tellin’ me the truth.’
‘Shit, Gene. You have no idea how much I hate you, do you?’
‘Rubbish. You love me. Cartwright said she thought it were personal and she’s a right bright bunny, that one. Spill it, Sam, and I don’t mean the tea.’
‘Okay there was some personal stuff but that’s what it remains, personal. And private. And you can slam me against the walls as hard as you like it won’t make any difference, I’m saying nothing.’
‘Oh don’t tempt me!’
‘I don’t want to fight you, Gene. Not over this.’
‘Bollocks. You love a spat as much as I do. You ever fight with DCI Dumpling? Nah, thought not. That’s cos you can’t be bothered wastin’ yer precious time. But a good ol’ scrap with the Gene Genie, makes yer blood surge and yer heart sing. You love it and you miss it and if you say any different you’re an even bigger liar than Richard bloody Nixon.’
‘I can’t tell you any more.’
‘Can’t or won’t?’
‘Can’t! Won’t! Doesn’t make any bloody difference! I’m not telling you!’
‘I think you are, Tyler. More than you realise.’
‘Fuck off, Gene! Get out of my flat now and fuck off out of my life! Now! ’
‘Sorry, Tyler. No can do. You said you’d tell me the truth and until you do, me and what’s left of these here Garibaldis are staying right where we are.’
‘Believe me Gene, it’s the last thing you’d ever want to hear.’
‘I’d be interested to hear if you’ve got any Bourbons.’
‘Just go, please?’
‘Custard Creams?’
‘Don’t do this, please Gene. Just leave me alone and forget about me.’
‘That, Tyler, is about the last thing I’ll ever be capable of doing.’
‘I can’t take this any more than I could take it working with you, day in, day out. You’ll never know what it was like, being so close…’
‘Bloody gorgeous, I should imagine.’
‘Shut up, Gene! Just shut the fuck up!’
‘Tell me, Tyler. Didn’t you ever think about us in the future? Climbing up the career ladder? You fillin’ me shoes behind me. Me thumpin’ the livin’ daylights out of yer if you got one step ahead of me? Didn’t you ever think about us together, Tyler?’
‘Together? Us? Christ, Gene, you have no bloody idea! Oh yes, I’ve thought about us together, dreamt about us together, wanted us together. But not how you think, not how you dream, not how you could ever even begin to imagine…’
‘Not how I think? Not how I dream? Bloody hell Sammy-boy, it’s about time you stopped feelin’ so bloody sorry for your hard-done-by or should that be not-done-hard-enough-by-anyone-at-all nancy poofter self and started puttin’ the pieces together like the good little CID girl you really are. You’re goin’ soft stuck out here in the turnips, an’ soft isn’t what I’m wantin’ from yer in any shape or form.
‘D'yer really think I’m only here to get yer back behind yer desk in Manchester? Think that’s all I ever saw you as, all you ever meant to me? Isn’t like this was a country jaunt to see Aunt Mabel of a Sunday afternoon, dammit. Why the fuck else would I drive half-way across the kingdom in the middle of the night to get yer divinely tight little arse back in me passenger seat, eh? This is personal as well as professional all right, believe me. Big time. Comprende, Gladys?’
Next ep here: Things fall apart 4/5 : The talented Mr Hunt
Author: fawsley
Characters: Gene, Sam
Rating: green Cortina for language. Colours will I promise crank up in the next installment.
Warnings: none apart from fucking swearing.
Word Count: 1860
Disclaimer: not my characters, all the property of Kudos and the BBC
Notes: Yes, ah, well, indeed it is now going to be five parts as opposed to the originally intended four, because I just couldn't herd the boys to the point I wanted without a whole load of gob from the pair of them. So we're still riding in a green Cortina for language but there will be hot action at a later date, promise. But for the time being we're all sitting comfortably for tea and biscuits.
Previous eps here: 1: A Keystone Cop, 2: Norfolk Bronze
Things fall apart 3 : Five minutes with me and you'll sing like a canary
‘Shouldn’t have let you come here.’
‘S’the only place I’m goin’ to get a drink though isn’t it? And only civil after I’ve let yer sit in me own nice shiny car for the past half an hour, runnin’ yer mitts all over the woodwork an’ cooin’ like a ruddy pigeon had got in through the window.’
‘Was good, sitting in my… in that… seat again. So… whose seat is it now?’
‘Whoever I’m ridin’ with. Doesn’t belong to anyone in particular.’
‘Oh. Right… Um, beer or whisky? Which d’you want?’
‘Neither. Get us a nice cup o’ tea.’
‘Tea? What the fuck? You said you wanted booze! That’s why we’re here. For booze!’
‘You might be Tyler, but what I want is a nice hot cup of tea and a decent packet of biscuits, so hop to the kitchen and get it sorted. Need to keep me head clear on this one, whatever it turns out to be.’
‘You bastard! I didn’t want you here and you bloody well tricked me!’
‘Not surprised yer didn’t want me to see this place. It’s a pretty poxy shitehole isn’t it? No better than the last one.’
‘Wasn’t what I was promised.’
‘Promised, eh? Who promised yer what? And why? Come on Tyler, time for the truth my lad. Garibaldis! Excellent!’
‘Don’t want to talk about it.’
‘Lots of things in this world we don’t want but ‘ave to get on with. This is one of ‘em. What the fuck happened, Sam? You were there, then you were on leave, and then you were gone, just gone without a word. You went over my head, went direct to Rathbone. Why’d yer do that? The bastard won’t tell me anythin’ so any answers have to come from you. Start talkin’. We were a team, you an’ me, a good team, one of the best. So you owe me on this and you know it.’
‘Or what? You going to bounce me off the walls like usual?’
‘Doubt you’d bounce, more like stick, the state of yer wallpaper. So come on, someone promised yer somethin’, a nice new flat I take it, which this ain’t.’
‘S’got a good view of the cathedral.’
‘Sod the ruddy cathedral! Manchester’s got a perfectly good cathedral an' if all you wanted was a poncy pretty view, well… For fuck’s sake, Sam, you didn’t have to run away to Norwich to look at a bloody cathedral! Manchester's yer home, yer city, yer belong there Tyler, not in this arsehole back-end of beyond. Come on! What’s the rest of the story? Spit it out!’
‘I fucking knew this would happen if I let you come back here.’
‘Well then you also fuckin’ know to get on with it and tell me, before I have to pistol-whip you with the teapot.’
‘You can’t pistol-whip someone with a teapot, Guv.’
‘Teapot-whip yer then. I want the truth, so shut up and start talkin’.’
‘Can’t do both at once.’
‘Tyler!’
‘Okay, okay. I’ll tell you but then you must leave, okay, and that’s it. Nothing more.’
‘Who said anything about anything more?’
‘I mean, you go away and that’s it. You don’t come back here again and you forget about trying to get me back to Manchester, because that just isn’t going to happen, that’s impossible, okay?’
‘We’ll see about that later.’
‘Promise?’
‘On that one? Oh yes indeed! Cross my heart and hope to die. Satisfied now?’
‘Okay. Right, well… We’d fought, remember?’
‘No. We’re always fighting. One delightful ruckus blends into another. Don’t remember.’
‘The Quay Street robbery? Then Dale Street then Bridge Street? They were all linked, had to be, but you just wouldn’t have it, oh no!’
‘They weren’t. Separate cases. Solved. Crims banged up. Different crims. Finito.’
‘Doesn’t matter now. Anyway…’
‘Doesn’t matter? Doesn’t bloody matter? Obviously mattered enough at the time! Enough for you to go sobbin’ yer little heart out to Rathbone about it! Cos that’s what happened, isn’t it Tyler?’
‘Yeah, well, I was angry. You just wouldn’t listen, took me off the case.’
‘Good job too. Barking up the wrong tree entirely, you were. As usual.’
‘Do you want me to tell you anything or not? Because if not…’
‘Oh just get on with it vicar, and pour me another cup of tea. ‘
‘I was angry. Fucking furious. It seemed like the last straw on top of how I, well, the last straw… So yeah, I went above your head, went straight to Rathbone. And he offered me a transfer. Said there was a plum DI post going where I’d be properly appreciated. Would be waiting for me as soon as I got back from that leave I had booked. Didn’t think it’d happen so quickly, but it sounded so good… Said I’d get luxury accommodation - yeah, I know, I know - and a top of the range car and that the DCI was about to retire so I’d be made up within the year and…’
‘And you get the rabbit hutch from hell and DCI Dumpling. Don’t tell me, he’s still got ten years on the clock, yeah?’
‘At least.'
‘And the car?’
‘Well, there is a car…’
‘What sort?’
‘A car sort…’
‘What sort, Tyler?’
‘Erm, well… It’s a Marina…’
‘A what? A fuckin’ Marina? Give us a tea-towel, need somethin’ to wipe me tea up with. Bloody hell, Tyler, you could’ve driven the Cortina now and again if that’s what you’d wanted. Why didn’t yer just ask? Yer could’ve asked, yer know.’
‘It all seemed to offer just what I wanted at the time…’
‘More like what Rathbone wanted, yer mean. He hates me an’ he never liked you much either. Saw his chance and pounced on it. Shanghaied yer, Tyler. Or should that be Norwiched? Get rid of one of us and piss the other one off big time, rock the boat badly enough an’ it might just send me into the water too like he’s always wanted.’
‘Yeah. I can see all that now. But it hasn’t, has it? I mean, you’re okay, aren’t you? The team’s okay?’
‘The team’s a bloody shambles, Tyler. Carling’s renewed his belief in the Protestant smirk ethic, Skelton’s goin’ backward so fast he’ll be comin’ round to meet us from behind before we know it, Cartwright talks about yer like yer dead…’
‘And you?’
‘Me? Me? Do you have any idea how bloody boring Litton-baiting is by meself?’
‘That slimey little twat? God, I almost miss him! No, I meant you as in, well, you, the Guv, you know…’
‘I’m doing the best I can without a half-decent DI to blame for everything that goes wrong. Cartwright says I can pull the rest of ‘em back together, says that once they realise things are still operatin’ on British Tyler Time then it’ll all sort itself out. ‘
‘And is it? Operating on…’
‘Yeah, as much as I can make it. Not easy, though.’
‘So that’s what this is all about, then?’
‘What what’s all about?’
‘Why you’re here. Begging for me to come back because you can’t cope.’
‘Fuck it, Tyler, you are one arrogant jumped-up little sod!’
‘I’m also the best DI you’ve ever had.’
‘And a sneaky evasive little bastard into the bargain.’
‘What the hell do you mean by that?’
‘You’ve told me all about bein’ pissed off an’ goin’ sobbin’ to Rathbone cos you don’t get to drive the nice shiny brum-brum or chase the wrong crims for the wrong crimes. All professional stuff. But if I might quote you, DI Tyler, It was personal. Believe me. So now you’ve got warmed up and some tea an’ biscuits inside yer, I suggest you start tellin’ me the truth.’
‘Shit, Gene. You have no idea how much I hate you, do you?’
‘Rubbish. You love me. Cartwright said she thought it were personal and she’s a right bright bunny, that one. Spill it, Sam, and I don’t mean the tea.’
‘Okay there was some personal stuff but that’s what it remains, personal. And private. And you can slam me against the walls as hard as you like it won’t make any difference, I’m saying nothing.’
‘Oh don’t tempt me!’
‘I don’t want to fight you, Gene. Not over this.’
‘Bollocks. You love a spat as much as I do. You ever fight with DCI Dumpling? Nah, thought not. That’s cos you can’t be bothered wastin’ yer precious time. But a good ol’ scrap with the Gene Genie, makes yer blood surge and yer heart sing. You love it and you miss it and if you say any different you’re an even bigger liar than Richard bloody Nixon.’
‘I can’t tell you any more.’
‘Can’t or won’t?’
‘Can’t! Won’t! Doesn’t make any bloody difference! I’m not telling you!’
‘I think you are, Tyler. More than you realise.’
‘Fuck off, Gene! Get out of my flat now and fuck off out of my life! Now! ’
‘Sorry, Tyler. No can do. You said you’d tell me the truth and until you do, me and what’s left of these here Garibaldis are staying right where we are.’
‘Believe me Gene, it’s the last thing you’d ever want to hear.’
‘I’d be interested to hear if you’ve got any Bourbons.’
‘Just go, please?’
‘Custard Creams?’
‘Don’t do this, please Gene. Just leave me alone and forget about me.’
‘That, Tyler, is about the last thing I’ll ever be capable of doing.’
‘I can’t take this any more than I could take it working with you, day in, day out. You’ll never know what it was like, being so close…’
‘Bloody gorgeous, I should imagine.’
‘Shut up, Gene! Just shut the fuck up!’
‘Tell me, Tyler. Didn’t you ever think about us in the future? Climbing up the career ladder? You fillin’ me shoes behind me. Me thumpin’ the livin’ daylights out of yer if you got one step ahead of me? Didn’t you ever think about us together, Tyler?’
‘Together? Us? Christ, Gene, you have no bloody idea! Oh yes, I’ve thought about us together, dreamt about us together, wanted us together. But not how you think, not how you dream, not how you could ever even begin to imagine…’
‘Not how I think? Not how I dream? Bloody hell Sammy-boy, it’s about time you stopped feelin’ so bloody sorry for your hard-done-by or should that be not-done-hard-enough-by-anyone-at-all nancy poofter self and started puttin’ the pieces together like the good little CID girl you really are. You’re goin’ soft stuck out here in the turnips, an’ soft isn’t what I’m wantin’ from yer in any shape or form.
‘D'yer really think I’m only here to get yer back behind yer desk in Manchester? Think that’s all I ever saw you as, all you ever meant to me? Isn’t like this was a country jaunt to see Aunt Mabel of a Sunday afternoon, dammit. Why the fuck else would I drive half-way across the kingdom in the middle of the night to get yer divinely tight little arse back in me passenger seat, eh? This is personal as well as professional all right, believe me. Big time. Comprende, Gladys?’
Next ep here: Things fall apart 4/5 : The talented Mr Hunt