Fic: Gone (5/15) by Walkerbaby Brown Cortina Sam/Gene Sam/Gene/OFC
Title - Gone (5/15)
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 2,025 this chapter
Spoilers - none you're entirely safe with me. Really
Chapter Five
"So," Sam looked over at Gene as they barreled down the expressway. They were about 20 minutes outside of Manchester and he shifted closer and put his hand on the other man’s knee. "What was that between you and Baxter earlier?"
"Which part?" Gene grunted as he looked down at Sam’s hand. Leaning back slightly into the seat he let his left hand drop from the steering wheel and on to Sam’s upper thigh.
"The part where your tongue was down her throat?" Sam hissed. "Hands on her arse that bit. Remember?"
"Seemed like a good way to shut her up. Get her to quit chucking books at me. Besides, she’ll be much better in the role you’d cast Cartwright in. What did you call it ‘a beard’? With Margaret gone it’ll look funny if I’m not seen chasing at least a bit of skirt. DCI can’t chase the plods without looking like a dirty old man, Baxter meanwhile is safe territory. On par with Oswald as far as running forensics goes, even if she is a slight step down the ladder career wise from me she’s moving up fast. No one can claim I’m pulling the strings because Baxter’s already made her own reputation with the Tiggs case." Gene looked over. "Besides, it is generally agreed that if a woman with an arse and a set of tits like that is going to be in this station somebody’s hand should be in her knickers. Especially since her husband’s a solicitor for the scum. Looks better for us if I’m the DCI who appears to have his hand in her knickers. No one else will bother the Gene Genie’s bit of arse and no one will even think that I’m shagging my DI with the luscious Dr. Baxter available. Even a DI with an arse like your’s."
"Oh," Sam shook his head. "Didn’t realize you were so perceptive Gene. Could have warned me though. What was I supposed to think walking in there and seeing your tongue down Baxter’s throat?"
"Can I join you?" Gene suggested. "Might have made things more interesting before she broke out laughing in my face. First words out of her mouth when I let her go is ‘Sam’s going to kill you for this’."
"What did she say after that?"
"My flowers of choice are orchids and not roses. I expect to see mild romantic gestures that are supposed to be hidden from the public or I will not flirt with you or drag you into the supply cupboard to prove your virility Guv. Most importantly - I’m your beard not your bitch. That means I don’t cook, I don’t clean and you fetch my tea not the other way around."
"How did you know about the part with Annie then?" Sam decided to test the waters there.
"She came and told me," Gene answered gruffly. "Complained about you pulling her to the slaughter house case because of a difference in opinion. Got the whole story from her."
"Just like that?" Sam asked.
"Thought she was talking to a sympathetic audience," Gene answered.
"And?" Sam prompted.
"Jesus Sam," Gene pulled his hand away. "I know you think I’m a Neanderthal but I’m old enough to figure out that whole business was just a scare story. Never seen a bunch of children go missing all in a group around Passover. Which it’s no where near by the way. Never had any of that sort of thing happening and I’ve been on the force a long time. What I have seen is girl’s getting hassled and boys taking a kicking on their way home from the Hebrew school over on the other side of Manchester. Seen men being bullied and women being snubbed. Seen plenty of graffitied doors due to the National Front. Seen worse than that even," Gene muttered darkly. "That was a long time ago though."
"Like what?"
"Did part of my National Service in Palestine," Gene answered. "Saw enough hate and violence and blood shed to last me and half of Manchester a life time. Did enough things I regret to give 10 of the most die hard war mongers in Parliament nightmares that make them cry like little girls for their mummy. None of it made any sense. Still don’t."
"I’m sorry," Sam said honestly.
"Shouldn’t be," Gene replied. "Weren’t but a boy then, any of us. Didn’t have no say in what happened. Still don’t for the most part."
They rode in silence for another hour. Halfway to London they stopped for dinner at a relatively clean chippie. It wasn’t the best Sam had ever eaten but it wasn’t the worst he’d had in 1973 either. Less artery clogging than some, he thought charitably.
The rain let up and he’d snuggled close to Gene in the car. The other man’s hand was lightly resting on his upper thigh. He’d wanted a dirty weekend away for a while and Gene had never agreed, claiming rightly that they couldn’t both afford to be off work and out of the city at the same time. He’d managed to coax the sullen agreement that they would take one extra day in London, claiming to nail down facts, if it turned out Miranda really had taken herself off to Rome on holiday. He’d heard there was a much livelier gay scene in London and because they were away from home and wouldn’t be recognized Sam was hoping he and Gene might go out and enjoy it.
"You know," Sam said finally. "We don’t need to bring Baxter in to all of this."
"Baxter doesn’t seem to mind. From what I’ve heard that husband of her’s has got a tart at the office. Think she’s planning to play a bit of good for the gander is good for the goose."
"So you’re going to sleep with her to piss off her husband and make sure the other DCI’s don’t talk about whether or not your gay?"
"Sam," Gene shook his head. "I’m not sleeping with Baxter anymore than you’re sleeping with Cartwright. Just going to moon over her a bit, except a bit more masculinely than you ever managed, mention what a good looking bird she is in front of the right people and that will be that."
"You don’t have to do that you know," Sam replied sullenly. "What we’re doing isn’t wrong."
"You want to come out?" Gene shook his head. "Be my guest Gladys but when you lose your job don’t come crying to me about it. I’ll be the one they make fire you if they don’t sack me at the same time. So that’s what you want then fine but count me out. I happen to like being able to walk down the street and not take my life into my own hands."
"Gene," Sam moved closer and touched the other man’s leg. He knew that Gene was still nervous about their relationship - not long ago even having a relationship together would have been illegal and if someone wanted to push it then it probably still could be. That didn’t change the fact that Sam still thought like someone from 2006 - and he didn’t see any reason why they couldn’t be open about what they were.
A hand roughly pushed his away. They drove the rest of the way in silence. They stayed silent during their drink in the hotel bar. They undressed in silence and once in bed Gene turned his back to Sam, something he’d never done before. Sam flounced onto his side angrily and crossed his arms. He felt the bed shift and felt the trembling against his back. Rolling over he wrapped his arms around Gene’s stiff form and held tight. Snuggling his face into the other man’s hair he kissed the back of his neck chastely and lay still. For once in his life Sam Tyler just stayed silent and let a problem lie unresolved. Sometime in the night Gene shifted and Sam woke up to the early sunbeams poking through their window, happily realizing they were a mess of tangled limbs intertwined about each other.
"I love you," Sam whispered to the sleeping man in his arms.
He pulled out of Gene’s grasp and wriggled out the bottom of the bed before making his way to the ensuite bath. Turning the shower on he let the hot water pour down over him and began to hum. The Beatles, he thought to himself and it wasn’t their ode to Lucy. He’d never been much of a fan of that one no matter how much Gene assumed otherwise.
"Oh I’ll tell you something," Sam sang loudly as he stepped from the shower. "I think you’ll understand. When I say that something, I want to hold your hand."
"What are you caterwauling about in there Sam?" Gene grunted from the main room.
"Oh please say to me," Sam sang louder. "You’ll let me be your man. And please say to me," Gene leaned against the door jab to stare at him. "You’ll let me hold your hand."
"You," Gene lit a cigarette and stood there naked, absently puffing away as he let his gaze linger on Sam. "Have become a full fledged, singing, fairy poof.
"I want to hold your hand." Sam batted his eyelashes dramatically as he sang the last note, trying his best to make Gene laugh.
Gene shook his head and rolled his eyes. "At least you picked a decent song to serenade me with this morning."
Letting the towel drop he pushed naked up against Gene. He leaned in for a deep kiss. There was no way Gene would ever let him apologize properly for what had happened last night. No way it would ever be discussed again. He knew he’d been forgiven when Gene’s left hand reached out and intertwined it’s fingers with his own.
"Morning," he murmured in the other man’s ear as he pulled him back to sit on the bed and then sank onto his knees in front of him, leaning forward to slide his tongue along Gene’s inner thigh and then pulling back with a wicked grin.
"Mmm," Gene agreed as he tilted his head back and carded his hands through Sam’s hair. "Supposed to be questioning the hotel staff."
"Shut up," Sam replied and then licked up the length of Gene’s cock. "Busy with other things. Prioritizing."
"Prioritizing?" Gene asked. Sam decided for the first time in a while that there had been entirely too much talking for his liking. Glancing up he gave Gene a sly smile and then wrapped his lips around Gene’s cock.
Gene started to moan quietly and shifted his hips. Sam hollowed his cheeks and sucked faster as the hand in his hair began to push at the back of his head, listening to Gene gasp and moan. The fingers in his hair clenched tightly as Gene grunted and Sam swallowed convulsively as the other man came.
He shuffled backwards as Gene reached for him. "Have hotel employees to interview," he said with a quick smile. "Get dressed."
"Dressed?" He watched as Gene raked hungry eyes over his body. "What happened to your prioritizing?"
"Let’s see," Sam slid into his trousers and placed his left hand on his hip and put up his right index finger. "Make your brain leak out your ears, check." He held up a second finger. "Question witnesses is next on the list." He put a third finger. "Come back to the room and fuck each other blind. Yep, I think the my to-do list is firmly established for the day."
"Sounds like a busy day," Gene agreed as he began buttoning the green shirt that Sam adored him in. He saw Gene’s fingers falter at the collar. "About last night Sam," he started.
"Never mind," Sam said as he pushed into Gene’s arms. "It doesn’t matter."
"You know I," Gene dropped his forehead to rest against Sam’s.
"I know," Sam agreed into his neck.
Next
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 2,025 this chapter
Spoilers - none you're entirely safe with me. Really
Chapter Five
"So," Sam looked over at Gene as they barreled down the expressway. They were about 20 minutes outside of Manchester and he shifted closer and put his hand on the other man’s knee. "What was that between you and Baxter earlier?"
"Which part?" Gene grunted as he looked down at Sam’s hand. Leaning back slightly into the seat he let his left hand drop from the steering wheel and on to Sam’s upper thigh.
"The part where your tongue was down her throat?" Sam hissed. "Hands on her arse that bit. Remember?"
"Seemed like a good way to shut her up. Get her to quit chucking books at me. Besides, she’ll be much better in the role you’d cast Cartwright in. What did you call it ‘a beard’? With Margaret gone it’ll look funny if I’m not seen chasing at least a bit of skirt. DCI can’t chase the plods without looking like a dirty old man, Baxter meanwhile is safe territory. On par with Oswald as far as running forensics goes, even if she is a slight step down the ladder career wise from me she’s moving up fast. No one can claim I’m pulling the strings because Baxter’s already made her own reputation with the Tiggs case." Gene looked over. "Besides, it is generally agreed that if a woman with an arse and a set of tits like that is going to be in this station somebody’s hand should be in her knickers. Especially since her husband’s a solicitor for the scum. Looks better for us if I’m the DCI who appears to have his hand in her knickers. No one else will bother the Gene Genie’s bit of arse and no one will even think that I’m shagging my DI with the luscious Dr. Baxter available. Even a DI with an arse like your’s."
"Oh," Sam shook his head. "Didn’t realize you were so perceptive Gene. Could have warned me though. What was I supposed to think walking in there and seeing your tongue down Baxter’s throat?"
"Can I join you?" Gene suggested. "Might have made things more interesting before she broke out laughing in my face. First words out of her mouth when I let her go is ‘Sam’s going to kill you for this’."
"What did she say after that?"
"My flowers of choice are orchids and not roses. I expect to see mild romantic gestures that are supposed to be hidden from the public or I will not flirt with you or drag you into the supply cupboard to prove your virility Guv. Most importantly - I’m your beard not your bitch. That means I don’t cook, I don’t clean and you fetch my tea not the other way around."
"How did you know about the part with Annie then?" Sam decided to test the waters there.
"She came and told me," Gene answered gruffly. "Complained about you pulling her to the slaughter house case because of a difference in opinion. Got the whole story from her."
"Just like that?" Sam asked.
"Thought she was talking to a sympathetic audience," Gene answered.
"And?" Sam prompted.
"Jesus Sam," Gene pulled his hand away. "I know you think I’m a Neanderthal but I’m old enough to figure out that whole business was just a scare story. Never seen a bunch of children go missing all in a group around Passover. Which it’s no where near by the way. Never had any of that sort of thing happening and I’ve been on the force a long time. What I have seen is girl’s getting hassled and boys taking a kicking on their way home from the Hebrew school over on the other side of Manchester. Seen men being bullied and women being snubbed. Seen plenty of graffitied doors due to the National Front. Seen worse than that even," Gene muttered darkly. "That was a long time ago though."
"Like what?"
"Did part of my National Service in Palestine," Gene answered. "Saw enough hate and violence and blood shed to last me and half of Manchester a life time. Did enough things I regret to give 10 of the most die hard war mongers in Parliament nightmares that make them cry like little girls for their mummy. None of it made any sense. Still don’t."
"I’m sorry," Sam said honestly.
"Shouldn’t be," Gene replied. "Weren’t but a boy then, any of us. Didn’t have no say in what happened. Still don’t for the most part."
They rode in silence for another hour. Halfway to London they stopped for dinner at a relatively clean chippie. It wasn’t the best Sam had ever eaten but it wasn’t the worst he’d had in 1973 either. Less artery clogging than some, he thought charitably.
The rain let up and he’d snuggled close to Gene in the car. The other man’s hand was lightly resting on his upper thigh. He’d wanted a dirty weekend away for a while and Gene had never agreed, claiming rightly that they couldn’t both afford to be off work and out of the city at the same time. He’d managed to coax the sullen agreement that they would take one extra day in London, claiming to nail down facts, if it turned out Miranda really had taken herself off to Rome on holiday. He’d heard there was a much livelier gay scene in London and because they were away from home and wouldn’t be recognized Sam was hoping he and Gene might go out and enjoy it.
"You know," Sam said finally. "We don’t need to bring Baxter in to all of this."
"Baxter doesn’t seem to mind. From what I’ve heard that husband of her’s has got a tart at the office. Think she’s planning to play a bit of good for the gander is good for the goose."
"So you’re going to sleep with her to piss off her husband and make sure the other DCI’s don’t talk about whether or not your gay?"
"Sam," Gene shook his head. "I’m not sleeping with Baxter anymore than you’re sleeping with Cartwright. Just going to moon over her a bit, except a bit more masculinely than you ever managed, mention what a good looking bird she is in front of the right people and that will be that."
"You don’t have to do that you know," Sam replied sullenly. "What we’re doing isn’t wrong."
"You want to come out?" Gene shook his head. "Be my guest Gladys but when you lose your job don’t come crying to me about it. I’ll be the one they make fire you if they don’t sack me at the same time. So that’s what you want then fine but count me out. I happen to like being able to walk down the street and not take my life into my own hands."
"Gene," Sam moved closer and touched the other man’s leg. He knew that Gene was still nervous about their relationship - not long ago even having a relationship together would have been illegal and if someone wanted to push it then it probably still could be. That didn’t change the fact that Sam still thought like someone from 2006 - and he didn’t see any reason why they couldn’t be open about what they were.
A hand roughly pushed his away. They drove the rest of the way in silence. They stayed silent during their drink in the hotel bar. They undressed in silence and once in bed Gene turned his back to Sam, something he’d never done before. Sam flounced onto his side angrily and crossed his arms. He felt the bed shift and felt the trembling against his back. Rolling over he wrapped his arms around Gene’s stiff form and held tight. Snuggling his face into the other man’s hair he kissed the back of his neck chastely and lay still. For once in his life Sam Tyler just stayed silent and let a problem lie unresolved. Sometime in the night Gene shifted and Sam woke up to the early sunbeams poking through their window, happily realizing they were a mess of tangled limbs intertwined about each other.
"I love you," Sam whispered to the sleeping man in his arms.
He pulled out of Gene’s grasp and wriggled out the bottom of the bed before making his way to the ensuite bath. Turning the shower on he let the hot water pour down over him and began to hum. The Beatles, he thought to himself and it wasn’t their ode to Lucy. He’d never been much of a fan of that one no matter how much Gene assumed otherwise.
"Oh I’ll tell you something," Sam sang loudly as he stepped from the shower. "I think you’ll understand. When I say that something, I want to hold your hand."
"What are you caterwauling about in there Sam?" Gene grunted from the main room.
"Oh please say to me," Sam sang louder. "You’ll let me be your man. And please say to me," Gene leaned against the door jab to stare at him. "You’ll let me hold your hand."
"You," Gene lit a cigarette and stood there naked, absently puffing away as he let his gaze linger on Sam. "Have become a full fledged, singing, fairy poof.
"I want to hold your hand." Sam batted his eyelashes dramatically as he sang the last note, trying his best to make Gene laugh.
Gene shook his head and rolled his eyes. "At least you picked a decent song to serenade me with this morning."
Letting the towel drop he pushed naked up against Gene. He leaned in for a deep kiss. There was no way Gene would ever let him apologize properly for what had happened last night. No way it would ever be discussed again. He knew he’d been forgiven when Gene’s left hand reached out and intertwined it’s fingers with his own.
"Morning," he murmured in the other man’s ear as he pulled him back to sit on the bed and then sank onto his knees in front of him, leaning forward to slide his tongue along Gene’s inner thigh and then pulling back with a wicked grin.
"Mmm," Gene agreed as he tilted his head back and carded his hands through Sam’s hair. "Supposed to be questioning the hotel staff."
"Shut up," Sam replied and then licked up the length of Gene’s cock. "Busy with other things. Prioritizing."
"Prioritizing?" Gene asked. Sam decided for the first time in a while that there had been entirely too much talking for his liking. Glancing up he gave Gene a sly smile and then wrapped his lips around Gene’s cock.
Gene started to moan quietly and shifted his hips. Sam hollowed his cheeks and sucked faster as the hand in his hair began to push at the back of his head, listening to Gene gasp and moan. The fingers in his hair clenched tightly as Gene grunted and Sam swallowed convulsively as the other man came.
He shuffled backwards as Gene reached for him. "Have hotel employees to interview," he said with a quick smile. "Get dressed."
"Dressed?" He watched as Gene raked hungry eyes over his body. "What happened to your prioritizing?"
"Let’s see," Sam slid into his trousers and placed his left hand on his hip and put up his right index finger. "Make your brain leak out your ears, check." He held up a second finger. "Question witnesses is next on the list." He put a third finger. "Come back to the room and fuck each other blind. Yep, I think the my to-do list is firmly established for the day."
"Sounds like a busy day," Gene agreed as he began buttoning the green shirt that Sam adored him in. He saw Gene’s fingers falter at the collar. "About last night Sam," he started.
"Never mind," Sam said as he pushed into Gene’s arms. "It doesn’t matter."
"You know I," Gene dropped his forehead to rest against Sam’s.
"I know," Sam agreed into his neck.
Next