Fic: Gone (4/15) by Walkerbaby Brown Cortina Sam/Gene Sam/Gene/OFC
Title - Gone (4/15)
Rating - Brown Cortina/NC-17
Pairing - Sam/Gene Sam/Gene/OFC
Summary - When the police commissioner's daughter goes missing it's up to Sam and Gene to find her. As new evidence is discovered the question becomes - does she really want to be found? And how can two people from Sam's past help?
Disclaimer - Not mine. Ever. It all belongs to BBC and Kudos. I just play for fun never for profit.
Word Count - 32,276 total 2575 this chapter
Spoilers - none you're entirely safe with me. Really
Chapter Four
"Guv," Sam looked up as he put the phone receiver back on it’s cradle. "Just got off the phone with the London Met. DCI Kinsler will be assisting us while we’re there."
"There?" Annie broke in suddenly. "Where?"
"London," Sam answered and Gene nodded brusquely before turning on his heel and storming into his office.
"Didn’t her friend say she just went on holiday?" Annie persisted.
Sam looked at her patiently. "There’s something off in Ethel Stein’s story. The Guv wants to check it out just in case. Thought we’d go to the airport and see if anyone could remember her. The stewardesses possibly. The late night flights are always pretty empty so we’re hoping someone remembers her getting on the plane. If they tell us she got on the plane on her own, happy and looking for some sun and some ruins in Rome, then the case is closed and we’ll be back that night. If it’s something else though we need to look into it."
"Right," Annie rolled her eyes. "Meanwhile we just fall farther and farther behind because some spoiled little rich girl decided to lark off on a holiday and not get her husband’s permission first."
"Permission?" Sam settled back in his chair and looked at her. "You think she should have gotten his permission?"
"Sam," Annie set down the files she was holding and shifted her weight onto her right foot. "He is her husband after all."
"So?" Sam cocked his head to the side.
"Well it says here in the notes you took from that Stein woman that she was upset and unreasonable about quitting her job once she got married. Sounds like she’s just decided to throw a temper tantrum and make him suffer a bit. It’s spoiled and irresponsible and it’s a waste of our time that could be better spent looking into real crime."
"I’ll allow that it was irresponsible not to at least call someone and let them know where she was and that if that’s the case then yes we could be better utilized working on other cases." Sam agreed. "I don’t think I would call being upset about being forced out of your job by your spouse unreasonable nor would I suggest that a grown woman was throwing a temper tantrum. In fact, we don’t have any suggestion that she was ‘throwing a tantrum’ as you call it."
"Sam," Annie laughed. "You can quit playing the sensitivity card. I mean I agree completely with what her husband expected from her. There was no reason for her to work after all."
"So?" Sam repeated. "Are you actually telling me that being married meant she shouldn’t be working? She was a translator and an administrator. She worked behind a desk. I’ll agree she shouldn’t have done field work, but that’s because the husband mentioned she has asthma not because she’s married. Besides on the strenuous scale of one to ten Miranda Pitcairn’s job at Sunshine Village was a -1 in physical effort."
"It doesn’t matter what she was doing," Annie shook her head. "There was no reason for her to work. She had a husband that could provide for them."
"So you’re saying that if you got married you’d quit work?"
"Well not if I marry someone on the force," Annie prompted and Sam studiously pretended that he hadn’t caught the hint squarely between his teeth. "They couldn’t afford to provide decently."
"And if you married someone outside the force?" Sam asked coolly.
"If he could provide well enough," Annie seemed flustered. "Someone I went to University with maybe, well then no I wouldn’t work would I? I’d stay home and take care of a house. Raise the children."
"And you’d be fine with that?" Sam was incredulous.
"Well yeah," Annie was blushing now. "That’s what you do if you’re a girl. You get a job after University until you find a good husband and then you settle down. I couldn’t exactly be a police officer and put myself in danger with kids to raise could I?"
Sam just looked at her and shook his head. He knew that for all her protestations Annie really was a very traditional girl. He’d realized that during his feeble attempt at dating her. She wanted to be taken to movies and out for ice cream and then left at her front door with a chaste kiss and a coy smile. Six weeks and (Gene had almost wet himself laughing when Sam finally admitted it) he never even managed upstairs outside without her pushing his hands away. He just never realized quite how traditional she could be until this very moment. .
"It doesn’t matter how she felt about working," Sam tried to bring them back around to the facts of the case. "What matters is that according to everyone at Sunshine Village Miranda Pitcairn was in good spirits when she was there. Absolutely nothing suggests that she was upset or looking to flee her husband in a ‘tantrum’ as you call it."
"Well you don’t actually trust what that woman tells you?" Annie raised her eyebrows skeptically. "Or any of the rest of those people."
"Why wouldn’t I?" Sam was truly perplexed by Annie now.
She shifted what foot her weight rested on and looked awkwardly around. "Well, I mean they aren’t the most honest people." Annie persisted. "For all we know they might have abducted Miranda themselves. Decided to sell her onwards or something."
"What?" Sam barked and tried to keep from laughing at the idea. "What on Earth led you to the conclusion that Ethel Stein, let me rephrase - Ethel WEINBERG Stein, member of one of the richest families in Europe or the States and married into a prominent family of academics would take Miranda Pitcairn hostage and sell her like a piece of cattle? It can’t be money. Ethel’s trust fund interest for one year is larger than the bulk of the Stanley estate and she doesn’t exactly hit me as the type to involve herself in ‘white slavery’ or slavery of any kind for that matter."
"Well Sam," Annie shook her head again. "Those people at Sunshine Village, you know what they are."
"People who care about children?" Sam suggested.
"No," Annie sighed exasperatedly. "They’re all hippies and,"
"Hippies and Jews," a cold female voice broke in and Sam looked up and saw Baxter standing a few feet away holding a file. "The whole lot of them. Just a bunch of hippies and Jews bringing in the little yellow Commie babies."
Annie blushed. "Well I wasn’t going to phrase it so rudely," she said sullenly. "But yes. Sunshine Village is all of that. It’s just wrong. Bringing that somewhere like Manchester where there are decent folks. Better off if they were in London or somewhere else."
"Mmm," Cynthia nodded and Sam’s addled brain was starting to place the pieces together.
"Annie," he raised a hand to diffuse the situation before it could get carried away.
"You know they actually have a Sunshine Village in London? Two in fact," Cynthia broke in.
"Really?" Annie’s voice had an edge to it as she replied.
"Yes," Cynthia agreed. "Quite nice facilities. Bigger than the one in Manchester." Turning she shoved a file into Sam’s hands before turning back around to give Annie what Sam knew was a malevolent glare. "By the way, WDC Cartwright," she said in a voice that made Sam grimace. "We don’t actually steal manky Gentiles. That’s just a rumor. The smell of swine and vinegar is so strong that even when you do get the layers of crusted dirt off them they’re still unbearable to have in the house. Makes the profit margin on selling them into slavery rather low. It’s just much easier, and less messy, to get a dog."
He saw Annie’s jaw drop in shock as Cynthia swept regally out of CID. "Well," Annie huffed. "I never!"
"You’re right," Sam shook his head. "On so, so many levels Annie. You never do a lot of things, including think outside your tiny, insulated, bigoted 1973 world view. Which has gotten you exactly what you want WDC Cartwright - you are no longer working the Miranda Pitcairn case. Since you’re so very concerned about crime overtaking the city while we’re looking into a missing woman’s disappearance you instead," Sam shuffled through the stack of files on his desk. "Will be taking two of the plods and start working the Harriman case. I’ll expect it to be solved with a perpetrator in custody and an airtight case when the Guv and I return from London on Thursday."
"That’s the assault that happened at the slaughter house isn’t it?" Annie wrinkled her nose in disgust.
"That’s the one," Sam agreed with a tight smile. "Come on Annie, good British girl like you - not upset by the smell of a few pigs being slaughtered or anything. It’s not like you’re," he jerked his head toward the door Cynthia had just left from, "one of them or anything."
"Sam!" Annie protested as he stood up and brushed past her. "Where are you going?"
"To apologize to Dr. Baxter. You do realize that’s her proper title don’t you Annie? Dr. Baxter? You know from doing more than idly marking four years in the Psychology department and waiting for someone to come along and marry her?"
"Sam!" Annie stepped back in shock.
"I’m going to go apologize that she had to hear something that offensive in my presence and that society and my own code of ethics prevented me from punching the person saying it in the mouth because the bigot happened to be a woman. I’m also going to assure her that it had nothing to do with being sacked for it because personally I’d have considered it a worthwhile reason!" Sam retorted as he stormed away.
At the lift he turned to look at a perplexed Annie. "If that case isn’t solved when I get back from London DC Cartwright you should have your WPC’s uniform pressed and ready to go because you’ll be right back in it before the Guv’s finished his bacon buttie."
He knew he’d sounded harsh but right now he was so angry - no Sam corrected, he’d lost to much respect for Annie in the last few months since they’d broken up to be angry at her. How could Annie be so backwards? So out of date? He expected it at times from Gene. The man had no concept of offensive. But Annie, Sam shook his head. He shouldn’t be surprised really. They had broken up shortly after she’d given him her opinion that homosexuality was a nasty, perverted disease - with Sam’s inner monologue urgently reminding him that he’d decided it was safer to stick with the heterosexual aspect of his sexuality in 1973 - and Sam realized that as sweet as she was; as absolutely script worthy right as she was; Annie Cartwright of 1973 was not the girl for him.
He heard the crashes of thrown books before the doors of the lift opened. Apparently book throwing had always been Cynthia’s form of angry stress relief. Sam tried not to smile, at least he knew what he was walking in to.
Stepping into forensics he saw the other lab technicians glance fearfully at the closed office door and then angrily at him. "None of your CID evidence is processed yet DI Tyler," Matthew said coldly. "We’ve been swamped with other cases and it will have to wait in line like the rest. One of us should have it to you within -"
"Within a week?" Sam suggested disappointedly.
"I believe we should have it back to you by Friday," Matthew answered coldly. "It does take time to process though."
"Back to that then are we?" Sam shrugged. "Should have expected it."
"Quite," Matthew agreed and Sam could see the others had waves of disapproval radiating off of them. Forensics was a tight knit group within the police force, the geeks of the station it seemed. They stuck together and Cynthia Baxter was their friend and colleague as well as being pampered and spoiled in a brotherly way by all of them. CID was going to suffer gravely for upsetting her.
"I wanted to come talk with Dr. Baxter," Sam said warily. "I wanted to apologize for the things our DC said."
"Good," another, more authoritative voice broke in from behind him. Turning he could see Oswald with his hands on his hips, glaring at Sam. "Because if someone doesn’t make this right and very soon DI Tyler then Gene Hunt will simply have to start doing his own autopsies. We, after all, apparently aren’t trustworthy enough. You never know if we’ll steal the body parts and the gold from the teeth."
Sam grimaced and then nodded. "You know I don’t agree with her don’t you Oswald?"
"That’s fine," Oswald replied. "I didn’t expect you would but that isn’t making Dr. Baxter feel any better right now and that means I am about to be one forensic investigator short. Since it’s Cynthia Baxter that means in reality I’m about five short if she chooses to leave like she suggested a few moments earlier."
"Cindyloo isn’t going anywhere," a gruff voice announced from the outer doorway. Sam watched as Gene swept past both he and Oswald and into her office. Sam looked at Oswald who stared back at him. He heard a heavy crash from inside the office and grimaced.
"Damn it woman!" Sam heard Gene announce. "How dare you throw a textbook at me? Especially ‘Advanced Topics in Organic Chemical Analysis’! I don’t even know what that crap is! If you’re going to throw a book in my presence at least make sure it’s one I want to read after I’m conscious again!"
"Go to Hell!" Cynthia screamed. Sam and Oswald both flinched.
"Look around Cindyloo!" Gene retorted loudly. "We’re here in Manchester with it pissing down freezing rain outside and you in that bulky turtleneck jumper chucking books at me instead of in Tahiti with you and Marilyn Cole frolicking naked in the surf while I lie back and watch while sipping a fruity island drink. That’s as close to Hell as I can think of right now!"
The room went silent then. Sam looked over at Oswald. Oswald shrugged. "She might have killed him but I think he’d have put up more of a fuss," the coroner suggested.
Five minutes later and the room was still silent. Sam took a deep breathe and decided to risk it. Stepping into the office he found Gene propped against her desk, kissing Baxter passionately.
"Um," Sam stammered before fleeing the room, cheeks burning.
"Well," Oswald looked at him impatiently.
"They’re working things out." Sam answered before turning to go. What the hell was Gene thinking? Baxter was married! Gene didn’t kiss married women, not even his own wife! Gene didn’t kiss women at all! Gene was only supposed to kiss Sam! And he most certainly wasn’t supposed to be acting out Sam’s most frequent wet dream without him being there to take part! He huffed angrily toward the bogs, pushing the image of the two of them from his mind and willing away the erection that it caused.
Next