fic: Appearances (Part Fourteen) by Mikey, brown cortina
Title: Appearances, Part Fourteen
Authors: mikes_grrl, with angeweeks on ‘Gene dialogue duty’ and more than a little credit to draycevixen for plot assistance.
Rating: Brown Cortina (NC-17)
Pairing: Gene/Sam
Warnings: AU, naturally, and maybe specific spoilers mentioned in passing. Nonetheless, let’s just wing it and say “post-2.08” for the hell of it.
Disclaimer: All owned by Kudos, kudos to them. I’m just having fun.
Word Count: 50,000~ total (part Fourteen, 1,400)
Summary: Sam tries to broaden Gene’s horizons but Gene won’t listen to reason (surprise) and sure as hell won’t ‘dialogue’. Meanwhile the city is experiencing a rash of hate crimes, a few of which are perpetrated against gay men, just as queer activism hits Manchester.
NOTES to Part Fourteen: AND WE'RE BAAAAACK! On the downward slope, now. Thanks everyone for being so patient *cough* with this fic, which has suffered numerous set backs and delays due to suckage and RL. Might be a few days inbetween posts but there will be posting going on. Of course that gives you time to go back and catch up with everything because even I have forgotten where we are in the story........
Appearances:
Prologue; Part One; Part Two; Part Three; Part Four; Part Five; Part Six; Part Seven; Part Eight; Part Nine; Part Ten; Part Eleven; Part Twelve; Part Thirteen
(Undercover-AU:
I. Undercover
II. Exposed
III. Smirk
Appearances, Part Fourteen
Gene walked in and looked around, trying not to breathe in the flying feathers.
“Genie!” The shriek was loud and long and Gene grimaced as he was physically assaulted by one of the few men in the city who could claim to be Gene’s physical equal. Simon had youth on his side, though, and was built like the rugby player he used to be, which altogether made his hugs nearly unendurable. Gene grabbed his arms and peeled him off. Three years since their one night stand and the boy still treated him like his favorite daddy.
“Sissy, you been lying to the Gene Genie, an’ you got ten seconds to ‘fess up.” Gene grabbed the boy and, unable to lift someone as tall and as heavy as himself, just pushed him into the wall.
“What?” Simon snorted, raising his hands in surrender.
“Ten seconds’ up.” Gene gave him a short, fast jab in the gut and Simon balled up.
“Fuck!”
“Don’ cry to me, Sissy, you can take worse than bit o’ love tappin’.”
“Oh and you’d know…bastard.”
“Yes.”
“I don’ even know why you’re here! And don’t touch the face!” Simon threw his hands up as Gene closed the gap. “I got to go on tonight!”
“Sissy…”
“Cecily! Can’t you call me by my name?”
“I do. What happened with that gang that roughed you up?”
“Nothin’.”
Gene tapped his stomach again and Simon wailed.
“Sssssssstop! Okay! You BITCH!” Simon pushed back and Gene let himself be shoved off. “Look they caught me off guard and tried to rough me up, okay? Johnnie was there and took the heat, and Dr. Carlisle patched us up later that night. Nothing that don’t happen every Friday night somewhere. Didn’ think it was worth bringin’ up…”
“Shite getting’ rough on my streets, an’ you didn’ think it worth a phone call? I got three stiffs on the slab thanks to these boys, and you might be next. Care to contribute to the cause?” Gene crossed his arms.
“Look, it’s…oh fuck, I told Larry you’d get wind of it.”
Gene froze, and he felt his whole body turn to ice. Simon saw it and backed away uncertainly.
“…it’s that new boy of his, pretty face. Puttin’ all sorts of ideas in his head, yeah?”
“What’s Sss…his boy getting on him for?”
Simon scuttled back a little more at the flat tone in his voice. “You ever heard of the Gay News?”
Gene frowned. “Yer fuckin’ jokin’.”
“No, you barbarian. It’s a gay newspaper out of London. The anarchist bookstore carries it.” Simon snapped a hand at him and pushed over to his dressing table. “Anyway Larry is starting a local paper. For us."
“Newspaper? For fags?” Gene snorted. “Used as firewood, it is?”
“No. It’s for us, yeah? For our community…”
“Christ on a stick.” Gene rubbed his hands over his face. “Community my arse. This what Larry’s planning?”
“Yeah.”
“What the hell that got to do with street thugs messin’ with yer tarted up face?”
“Flattery will get you everywhere…oh wait, it already did.” Simon powdered his nose dramatically.
Gene shook his head. “What this got to do with a damn newspaper?”
“Larry got me to have the club help back it. Larry can’t be seen as involved, you know? Sure as hell you do, surprised you even showed up here…” Simon snapped angrily. “So we’re footin’ some of the print costs and getting an advert in exchange. I was setting that up with Larry and his new boy.”
Gene desperately tried to shove his brain back into gear, pushing every thought of Sam out…just, out. Out of his head, out of his heart, out of the room. He took a deep breath, which made Simon very nervous, and exhaled slowly. “And?”
“Wellllll…one of them was sayin’ something about the paper, how us ‘fags’ going to ‘infect’ the streets with our lies, and how he was goin’ to use the paper to wipe his arse…the usual pick-up lines. There were just three of them, thank God, but that one did a lot of talking.”
Gene stared at him, trying to put it all together, but it did not make sense. “So you think this gang is on the warpath over a bunch of queers putting out a news rag?”
“Just using it as an excuse, I guess.” Simon shrugged.
Gene stood still, pondering. If that were true, there would be some kind of connection. Any connection. But there was no such connection, not that he knew of, and with that thought his mind dredged up a name.
“You know a boy named Dan Tower?”
Simon thought for a second. “Oh, that boy that got…beat up…shit.” Gene saw the gears clicking as Simon put it together. “Yeah, fuck, yeah, I knew him. Came around to the shows a few times with Larry. He was even goin’ to write for…” For the first time, Simon started looking worried. “Shit, Genie, you don’ think…”
“I do. Keep yer muscle boys close, and don’ be stupid. Don’ want to scrape your pretty mug off the pavement next week.”
“…still think I’m pretty?” Simon smiled and ran his hands over the back of his chair, which, Gene realized belatedly, supported a fox stole. He felt his eyes dilate and the room became very, very small as Simon moved around the chair, rubbing against the fur as he encroached upon Gene.
“Bloody ‘ell, Sissy, I got me hands full these days.” Gene shook himself and shoved the boy off.
“Yeah, I heard. Never bring him by. Fucking hypocrite.” Simon waved him away and turned to start changing into a very sequined dress.
Gene stared at him in confusion, wondering when in the hell the world as he knew it started going insane. The boys these days were getting too loud, too high-and-mighty, and at this rate they’d be asking for marriage licenses in ten years and getting shot in the streets. Gene shook his head and walked out, refusing to cast even a parting glace at the fox fur and trying not to think about the fact he never brought Sam out to the club, but Larry, at some mysterious point in time, did.
----------------
When Sam got back to the office later in the afternoon after his meeting with Larry, Gene was gone. Ray said that Gene was there and dug into the file on Moore’s case, made a few phone calls, but then took off again. Sam just nodded at the news, as if Gene was doing something he expected him to do, but it was a lie. Gene had not shown any personal interest in the cases before now, choosing to keep his distance, but suddenly he was digging into files without conferring with Sam at all.
Sam stared at Gene’s office, thinking about what Larry told him and where the case was going and knowing with dead certainty that he needed to tell Gene what was going on. What came to mind was Gene rifling through his desk in blind jealousy, and Sam’s certainty stopped there. Sam receiving just a phone call from Larry drove Gene to violence and that was a fair sized disincentive, but Sam could not dismiss the fact that the case was more important than any personal problems they were having.
Sam sat back in his chair, surprised. ‘Personal problems.’ That was the phrase he just thought and was usually the phrase that prefigured the dissolution of his relationship. Every relationship. He did not want that with Gene but he was at a loss. Gene kept floating further and further into his jealousy and Sam did not know what to do to stop it. Honesty was the best policy but honesty, in this case, would only give Gene ammunition for his worst suspicions. Lying was safe, up to the point Gene found out -- and that was a given because Sam knew Gene would find out, and then one or the other or both of them would be dead. Confused about what to do, he sat at his desk and prioritized but his relationship issues came in dead last on the list. The case came first. Lives were in the balance, and there was nothing in Sam’s life that could match that. He was a cop first, and always would be, so he decided that night he was going to bring Gene up to date on the case. And Larry. And everything. ‘Personal problems’ be damned.
>----------------
Authors: mikes_grrl, with angeweeks on ‘Gene dialogue duty’ and more than a little credit to draycevixen for plot assistance.
Rating: Brown Cortina (NC-17)
Pairing: Gene/Sam
Warnings: AU, naturally, and maybe specific spoilers mentioned in passing. Nonetheless, let’s just wing it and say “post-2.08” for the hell of it.
Disclaimer: All owned by Kudos, kudos to them. I’m just having fun.
Word Count: 50,000~ total (part Fourteen, 1,400)
Summary: Sam tries to broaden Gene’s horizons but Gene won’t listen to reason (surprise) and sure as hell won’t ‘dialogue’. Meanwhile the city is experiencing a rash of hate crimes, a few of which are perpetrated against gay men, just as queer activism hits Manchester.
NOTES to Part Fourteen: AND WE'RE BAAAAACK! On the downward slope, now. Thanks everyone for being so patient *cough* with this fic, which has suffered numerous set backs and delays due to suckage and RL. Might be a few days inbetween posts but there will be posting going on. Of course that gives you time to go back and catch up with everything because even I have forgotten where we are in the story........
Appearances:
Prologue; Part One; Part Two; Part Three; Part Four; Part Five; Part Six; Part Seven; Part Eight; Part Nine; Part Ten; Part Eleven; Part Twelve; Part Thirteen
(Undercover-AU:
I. Undercover
II. Exposed
III. Smirk
Appearances, Part Fourteen
Gene walked in and looked around, trying not to breathe in the flying feathers.
“Genie!” The shriek was loud and long and Gene grimaced as he was physically assaulted by one of the few men in the city who could claim to be Gene’s physical equal. Simon had youth on his side, though, and was built like the rugby player he used to be, which altogether made his hugs nearly unendurable. Gene grabbed his arms and peeled him off. Three years since their one night stand and the boy still treated him like his favorite daddy.
“Sissy, you been lying to the Gene Genie, an’ you got ten seconds to ‘fess up.” Gene grabbed the boy and, unable to lift someone as tall and as heavy as himself, just pushed him into the wall.
“What?” Simon snorted, raising his hands in surrender.
“Ten seconds’ up.” Gene gave him a short, fast jab in the gut and Simon balled up.
“Fuck!”
“Don’ cry to me, Sissy, you can take worse than bit o’ love tappin’.”
“Oh and you’d know…bastard.”
“Yes.”
“I don’ even know why you’re here! And don’t touch the face!” Simon threw his hands up as Gene closed the gap. “I got to go on tonight!”
“Sissy…”
“Cecily! Can’t you call me by my name?”
“I do. What happened with that gang that roughed you up?”
“Nothin’.”
Gene tapped his stomach again and Simon wailed.
“Sssssssstop! Okay! You BITCH!” Simon pushed back and Gene let himself be shoved off. “Look they caught me off guard and tried to rough me up, okay? Johnnie was there and took the heat, and Dr. Carlisle patched us up later that night. Nothing that don’t happen every Friday night somewhere. Didn’ think it was worth bringin’ up…”
“Shite getting’ rough on my streets, an’ you didn’ think it worth a phone call? I got three stiffs on the slab thanks to these boys, and you might be next. Care to contribute to the cause?” Gene crossed his arms.
“Look, it’s…oh fuck, I told Larry you’d get wind of it.”
Gene froze, and he felt his whole body turn to ice. Simon saw it and backed away uncertainly.
“…it’s that new boy of his, pretty face. Puttin’ all sorts of ideas in his head, yeah?”
“What’s Sss…his boy getting on him for?”
Simon scuttled back a little more at the flat tone in his voice. “You ever heard of the Gay News?”
Gene frowned. “Yer fuckin’ jokin’.”
“No, you barbarian. It’s a gay newspaper out of London. The anarchist bookstore carries it.” Simon snapped a hand at him and pushed over to his dressing table. “Anyway Larry is starting a local paper. For us."
“Newspaper? For fags?” Gene snorted. “Used as firewood, it is?”
“No. It’s for us, yeah? For our community…”
“Christ on a stick.” Gene rubbed his hands over his face. “Community my arse. This what Larry’s planning?”
“Yeah.”
“What the hell that got to do with street thugs messin’ with yer tarted up face?”
“Flattery will get you everywhere…oh wait, it already did.” Simon powdered his nose dramatically.
Gene shook his head. “What this got to do with a damn newspaper?”
“Larry got me to have the club help back it. Larry can’t be seen as involved, you know? Sure as hell you do, surprised you even showed up here…” Simon snapped angrily. “So we’re footin’ some of the print costs and getting an advert in exchange. I was setting that up with Larry and his new boy.”
Gene desperately tried to shove his brain back into gear, pushing every thought of Sam out…just, out. Out of his head, out of his heart, out of the room. He took a deep breath, which made Simon very nervous, and exhaled slowly. “And?”
“Wellllll…one of them was sayin’ something about the paper, how us ‘fags’ going to ‘infect’ the streets with our lies, and how he was goin’ to use the paper to wipe his arse…the usual pick-up lines. There were just three of them, thank God, but that one did a lot of talking.”
Gene stared at him, trying to put it all together, but it did not make sense. “So you think this gang is on the warpath over a bunch of queers putting out a news rag?”
“Just using it as an excuse, I guess.” Simon shrugged.
Gene stood still, pondering. If that were true, there would be some kind of connection. Any connection. But there was no such connection, not that he knew of, and with that thought his mind dredged up a name.
“You know a boy named Dan Tower?”
Simon thought for a second. “Oh, that boy that got…beat up…shit.” Gene saw the gears clicking as Simon put it together. “Yeah, fuck, yeah, I knew him. Came around to the shows a few times with Larry. He was even goin’ to write for…” For the first time, Simon started looking worried. “Shit, Genie, you don’ think…”
“I do. Keep yer muscle boys close, and don’ be stupid. Don’ want to scrape your pretty mug off the pavement next week.”
“…still think I’m pretty?” Simon smiled and ran his hands over the back of his chair, which, Gene realized belatedly, supported a fox stole. He felt his eyes dilate and the room became very, very small as Simon moved around the chair, rubbing against the fur as he encroached upon Gene.
“Bloody ‘ell, Sissy, I got me hands full these days.” Gene shook himself and shoved the boy off.
“Yeah, I heard. Never bring him by. Fucking hypocrite.” Simon waved him away and turned to start changing into a very sequined dress.
Gene stared at him in confusion, wondering when in the hell the world as he knew it started going insane. The boys these days were getting too loud, too high-and-mighty, and at this rate they’d be asking for marriage licenses in ten years and getting shot in the streets. Gene shook his head and walked out, refusing to cast even a parting glace at the fox fur and trying not to think about the fact he never brought Sam out to the club, but Larry, at some mysterious point in time, did.
----------------
When Sam got back to the office later in the afternoon after his meeting with Larry, Gene was gone. Ray said that Gene was there and dug into the file on Moore’s case, made a few phone calls, but then took off again. Sam just nodded at the news, as if Gene was doing something he expected him to do, but it was a lie. Gene had not shown any personal interest in the cases before now, choosing to keep his distance, but suddenly he was digging into files without conferring with Sam at all.
Sam stared at Gene’s office, thinking about what Larry told him and where the case was going and knowing with dead certainty that he needed to tell Gene what was going on. What came to mind was Gene rifling through his desk in blind jealousy, and Sam’s certainty stopped there. Sam receiving just a phone call from Larry drove Gene to violence and that was a fair sized disincentive, but Sam could not dismiss the fact that the case was more important than any personal problems they were having.
Sam sat back in his chair, surprised. ‘Personal problems.’ That was the phrase he just thought and was usually the phrase that prefigured the dissolution of his relationship. Every relationship. He did not want that with Gene but he was at a loss. Gene kept floating further and further into his jealousy and Sam did not know what to do to stop it. Honesty was the best policy but honesty, in this case, would only give Gene ammunition for his worst suspicions. Lying was safe, up to the point Gene found out -- and that was a given because Sam knew Gene would find out, and then one or the other or both of them would be dead. Confused about what to do, he sat at his desk and prioritized but his relationship issues came in dead last on the list. The case came first. Lives were in the balance, and there was nothing in Sam’s life that could match that. He was a cop first, and always would be, so he decided that night he was going to bring Gene up to date on the case. And Larry. And everything. ‘Personal problems’ be damned.
>----------------