Fic: Appearances (Part Twenty) by Mikey, brown cortina
Title: Appearances, Part Twenty of Thirty
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, post-2.08, and probably not in character.
Disclaimer: All owned by Kudos, kudos to them. I’m just having fun.
Word Count: 53,000~ total (part Twenty, 1,600)
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 Twenty: And so we take that left turn at Albuquerque...and no, I have NO IDEA why the word count suddenly went up. Really. I don't.
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; Part Fourteen; Part Fifteen; Part Sixteen Part Seventeen; Part Eighteen; Part Nineteen
( Undercover-AU:
I. Undercover
II. Exposed
III. Smirk )
Appearances, Part Twenty
Gene was simply gone. No one knew where he was and no one had seem him the night before. Other than the Tower case, there was not a lot going on, but it was peculiar for Gene to be this late without at least calling in. Sam asked around in CID and the canteen, casually inquiring if Gene mentioned to anyone that he had ‘darts practice’ which, Sam knew, was Gene-code for ‘go out and get laid.’ He knew he was not supposed to care about that, not anymore, but he was nonetheless relieved when everyone he asked told him that they had no idea where the Guv went the night before.
Relieved, to a point. There was always the possibility that Gene had gotten hurt, or…something. Other then envisioning Gene face down on the bathroom floor from a heart attack, Sam could not figure out what the ‘or something’ might be, but it was there somewhere. He called Gene’s house, and even called his own flat - dim hope, there, but leave no stone unturned - and had Phyllis radioing for him every fifteen minutes. Nothing.
Finally, near noon when the office was cleared out for lunch, Sam rifled through his desk and found David’s private card with his home number on it. He had tried the hospital but it was David’s day off and he was not on call, so this was the only way to reach him. Sam stared at it for a second, and then dialed. If Gene went and got himself in trouble, the only other person who might know, other than Sam, was David. On the tenth ring, just before Sam gave up and hung up, someone answered.
“What?”
Sam stalled. “…Gene?”
“Sam?”
“Last time I checked, yes.” Sam’s jaw clinched, and he argued with himself extensively in the pause. Gene would NOT, not with David. No.
“Why are you calling here?”
“Who the hell is on the line? Genie?” David picked up on another phone. “Hello?”
“Good morning, David.” Sam said politely. There was a long pause.
“I’ll just be hanging up then,” David said smartly and Sam heard the click as he put down the receiver.
“I guess I should have known,” Sam sighed, looking around to make sure the office was still emptied out.
“Sam, it’s not what you think…”
“It really doesn’t matter what I think, does it?”
“Yes it does, damnit, shut yer gob an’ listen…”
“No, it really doesn’t matter, and no, I’m not going to listen.”
“Sam, don’t jump to conclusions…”
“I’m not going to argue with you…it’s near noon and not a damn soul has heard from you. I was just calling David to see if he knew where you were, to make sure you weren’t dead.” Sam tapped his pen on the top of his desk.
“…Still looking after this old fool?”
Sam stalled at the familiar words, words that had utterly and cataclysmically changed his world less than a year ago.
“You’re right. I was. So, lesson learned. I actually have a job to do, here, and it does NOT involve chasing after you. Sorry to bother you, I’m sure you have someone more important to fuck over.” Sam slammed the phone down, cutting off whatever reply Gene was trying to make. He stood up, his hands shaking, furious at himself for losing his temper. The phone rang again and Sam eyed it evilly, knowing full well who it was and wondering what on earth Gene was pushing at when it was his idea to break up. Still, it was his office phone and years of habit overcame his sincere reluctance, but he answered it with his most acidic tone of voice.
“What now?”
“…Sam?”
“Larry?”
“Sam…god, it’s gone straight to hell…” Larry sounded both worried and relieved.
“Are you alright?” Sam asked, sitting down, Larry’s tone and words confusing.
“Yes, I am. I am. Damn. Fine.” The growl raised Sam’s hackles defensively.
“Then why are you calling me?” Sam snapped, tired of the alpha boys and their games.
“Jimmy.”
“Okay.”
“He’s missing.”
“Then call in a domestic disturbance. Missing persons. I can’t say I give a damn if you two are having a fight.”
“Jesus, you are being a bitch. Look, this isn’t like that, this is about Dan Tower.”
“How?”
“Some friends of Jimmy’s from the club seem to know who beat up Cecily, and the word is that they are same ruffians who bruised up on Tower.”
“You cannot tell me that Jimmy is planning to take them on.”
There was a long pause.
“Larry? Jimmy can’t fight his way out of a paper bag,” Sam said in disbelief, knowing that in a face off, even Chris would wipe the floor with the young blond.
“He took his camera equipment.” Larry snapped. “He’s been planning this. He put out fliers about the newspaper, with the address of the new office on them. I had no idea until he showed me one earlier this week.”
“Shit.” Sam sat back, stunned. Yes, one thing Jimmy knew how to do really well was take photos of people who were not expecting to show up on film. Sam remembered the proof of that, glad that it was all dust in the wind now. The one photo that was left of that folly, he turned over to Gene for destruction, and he did not regret that decision at all.
“He said he could get the good on the gang, draw them out. He believed he could photograph them doing something, anything, and use himself as bait…damnit he sounded so proud of it…he told me what he was going to do and I forbade him to even consider it, I begged him to talk to you about it…stubborn brat, went and did it anyway. We were to meet for lunch today, but he never showed. I thought he would just call later and explain but…look, I’ve been by his flat, he’s not there. He hasn’t even been there, best as I can tell…”
“When’d you last see him?” Sam began scribbling notes furiously.
“He left my house early last night, in a fit. Just furious with me over this whole matter. As if trying to stop him from committing suicide proves I don’t care…” There was a long-suffering sigh, and Sam let the man have his moment. “Can’t say I did not encourage the argument, but he tends to bring out the worst in me…”
“Yeah, I understand that.” Sam’s eyes flicked to Gene’s office. “You have any idea what his plan actually was? Set himself up at the office as bait, or…?”
“He is too smart, never gave me even a clue to go on, knew I would try to foul it up for him.”
Sam rubbed his temples and frowned. He could try to canvass Jimmy’s friends from the club who inspired this, but chances were slim they would do anything but laugh at the queer cop trying to bust one of the ‘good guys.’ He propped himself on his elbows and stared at Annie across the room. She stared back, confused, and he waved her over. It was time to start expanding horizons.
“Larry, the only real lead we have on this is a possible connection through Dan’s brother Shelton.”
“The one he came out to? God…no, don’t tell me he…”
“No, I don’t think he hurt his brother like that. But I’m almost certain that some connection exists between the random beatings, Dusty Moore, and his brother Dan. Maybe friends, maybe enemies, I don’t know. But Shelton does know something, and I think we’ve run out of time waiting for him to slip up or grow a conscious.”
Annie stood next to the desk now, her arms crossed as she listened in.
“I’m sending an officer over to talk to him, someone he might open up to.”
“Wonderful. Please call me as soon as…”
“Larry.” Sam stopped him with a deadly calm tone, dreading his words but helpless to change course. “I can keep you out of the official reports, I can do my damnedest to keep your involvement secret from Jackie Queen…”
“You let ME worry about Queen, Sam.”
“Larry, lives are at stake. Men have died, Dan’s in a coma, Jimmy might be in trouble.” Sam stopped there, his point implicit. Larry grunted unhappily. “I have to show my hand to Dan’s brother, and part of that hand will be a card marked ‘Larry Fletcher.’ He knows who you are and probably has a good idea what you were to Dan. But the longer he thinks he can keep his brother’s secret, the harder it’s going to be for him to help us.”
By now, Annie’s expression was as grim as it was confused, but she did not move a muscle.
“And you, Sam?” Larry breathed quietly, the challenge barely registering in his voice.
“You know how things are right now. I got nothing to lose, and maybe a life to save. Do what you got to do, but I’m playing every card in the deck if I can save Jimmy or any other person in this city from being kicked to death. I’ll call you as soon as I know something.” Sam hung up without waiting for his response to that. He headed for Gene’s office, and Annie followed. They stood awkwardly against Gene’s desk.
“I have a lead, Annie. A lead on the Tower case, but it’s…delicate.” He studied her critically, but she just stared back at him.
“Who is Jimmy?”
“I good kid who might be in over his head. I’ve got to find him.”
Annie nodded, unhappy with the answer. “What do you need me to do?”
“Dan Tower has a brother named Shelton. I’ve talked to him before, and he’s not a suspect in his brother’s beating. But I think he might…be involved in other ways. Due to Dan’s lifestyle.”
“His ‘lifestyle,’ Sir?” Annie squinted.
“Dan’s gay, Annie. And his brother knows it.”
>------------
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, post-2.08, and probably not in character.
Disclaimer: All owned by Kudos, kudos to them. I’m just having fun.
Word Count: 53,000~ total (part Twenty, 1,600)
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 Twenty: And so we take that left turn at Albuquerque...and no, I have NO IDEA why the word count suddenly went up. Really. I don't.
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; Part Fourteen; Part Fifteen; Part Sixteen Part Seventeen; Part Eighteen; Part Nineteen
( Undercover-AU:
I. Undercover
II. Exposed
III. Smirk )
Appearances, Part Twenty
Gene was simply gone. No one knew where he was and no one had seem him the night before. Other than the Tower case, there was not a lot going on, but it was peculiar for Gene to be this late without at least calling in. Sam asked around in CID and the canteen, casually inquiring if Gene mentioned to anyone that he had ‘darts practice’ which, Sam knew, was Gene-code for ‘go out and get laid.’ He knew he was not supposed to care about that, not anymore, but he was nonetheless relieved when everyone he asked told him that they had no idea where the Guv went the night before.
Relieved, to a point. There was always the possibility that Gene had gotten hurt, or…something. Other then envisioning Gene face down on the bathroom floor from a heart attack, Sam could not figure out what the ‘or something’ might be, but it was there somewhere. He called Gene’s house, and even called his own flat - dim hope, there, but leave no stone unturned - and had Phyllis radioing for him every fifteen minutes. Nothing.
Finally, near noon when the office was cleared out for lunch, Sam rifled through his desk and found David’s private card with his home number on it. He had tried the hospital but it was David’s day off and he was not on call, so this was the only way to reach him. Sam stared at it for a second, and then dialed. If Gene went and got himself in trouble, the only other person who might know, other than Sam, was David. On the tenth ring, just before Sam gave up and hung up, someone answered.
“What?”
Sam stalled. “…Gene?”
“Sam?”
“Last time I checked, yes.” Sam’s jaw clinched, and he argued with himself extensively in the pause. Gene would NOT, not with David. No.
“Why are you calling here?”
“Who the hell is on the line? Genie?” David picked up on another phone. “Hello?”
“Good morning, David.” Sam said politely. There was a long pause.
“I’ll just be hanging up then,” David said smartly and Sam heard the click as he put down the receiver.
“I guess I should have known,” Sam sighed, looking around to make sure the office was still emptied out.
“Sam, it’s not what you think…”
“It really doesn’t matter what I think, does it?”
“Yes it does, damnit, shut yer gob an’ listen…”
“No, it really doesn’t matter, and no, I’m not going to listen.”
“Sam, don’t jump to conclusions…”
“I’m not going to argue with you…it’s near noon and not a damn soul has heard from you. I was just calling David to see if he knew where you were, to make sure you weren’t dead.” Sam tapped his pen on the top of his desk.
“…Still looking after this old fool?”
Sam stalled at the familiar words, words that had utterly and cataclysmically changed his world less than a year ago.
“You’re right. I was. So, lesson learned. I actually have a job to do, here, and it does NOT involve chasing after you. Sorry to bother you, I’m sure you have someone more important to fuck over.” Sam slammed the phone down, cutting off whatever reply Gene was trying to make. He stood up, his hands shaking, furious at himself for losing his temper. The phone rang again and Sam eyed it evilly, knowing full well who it was and wondering what on earth Gene was pushing at when it was his idea to break up. Still, it was his office phone and years of habit overcame his sincere reluctance, but he answered it with his most acidic tone of voice.
“What now?”
“…Sam?”
“Larry?”
“Sam…god, it’s gone straight to hell…” Larry sounded both worried and relieved.
“Are you alright?” Sam asked, sitting down, Larry’s tone and words confusing.
“Yes, I am. I am. Damn. Fine.” The growl raised Sam’s hackles defensively.
“Then why are you calling me?” Sam snapped, tired of the alpha boys and their games.
“Jimmy.”
“Okay.”
“He’s missing.”
“Then call in a domestic disturbance. Missing persons. I can’t say I give a damn if you two are having a fight.”
“Jesus, you are being a bitch. Look, this isn’t like that, this is about Dan Tower.”
“How?”
“Some friends of Jimmy’s from the club seem to know who beat up Cecily, and the word is that they are same ruffians who bruised up on Tower.”
“You cannot tell me that Jimmy is planning to take them on.”
There was a long pause.
“Larry? Jimmy can’t fight his way out of a paper bag,” Sam said in disbelief, knowing that in a face off, even Chris would wipe the floor with the young blond.
“He took his camera equipment.” Larry snapped. “He’s been planning this. He put out fliers about the newspaper, with the address of the new office on them. I had no idea until he showed me one earlier this week.”
“Shit.” Sam sat back, stunned. Yes, one thing Jimmy knew how to do really well was take photos of people who were not expecting to show up on film. Sam remembered the proof of that, glad that it was all dust in the wind now. The one photo that was left of that folly, he turned over to Gene for destruction, and he did not regret that decision at all.
“He said he could get the good on the gang, draw them out. He believed he could photograph them doing something, anything, and use himself as bait…damnit he sounded so proud of it…he told me what he was going to do and I forbade him to even consider it, I begged him to talk to you about it…stubborn brat, went and did it anyway. We were to meet for lunch today, but he never showed. I thought he would just call later and explain but…look, I’ve been by his flat, he’s not there. He hasn’t even been there, best as I can tell…”
“When’d you last see him?” Sam began scribbling notes furiously.
“He left my house early last night, in a fit. Just furious with me over this whole matter. As if trying to stop him from committing suicide proves I don’t care…” There was a long-suffering sigh, and Sam let the man have his moment. “Can’t say I did not encourage the argument, but he tends to bring out the worst in me…”
“Yeah, I understand that.” Sam’s eyes flicked to Gene’s office. “You have any idea what his plan actually was? Set himself up at the office as bait, or…?”
“He is too smart, never gave me even a clue to go on, knew I would try to foul it up for him.”
Sam rubbed his temples and frowned. He could try to canvass Jimmy’s friends from the club who inspired this, but chances were slim they would do anything but laugh at the queer cop trying to bust one of the ‘good guys.’ He propped himself on his elbows and stared at Annie across the room. She stared back, confused, and he waved her over. It was time to start expanding horizons.
“Larry, the only real lead we have on this is a possible connection through Dan’s brother Shelton.”
“The one he came out to? God…no, don’t tell me he…”
“No, I don’t think he hurt his brother like that. But I’m almost certain that some connection exists between the random beatings, Dusty Moore, and his brother Dan. Maybe friends, maybe enemies, I don’t know. But Shelton does know something, and I think we’ve run out of time waiting for him to slip up or grow a conscious.”
Annie stood next to the desk now, her arms crossed as she listened in.
“I’m sending an officer over to talk to him, someone he might open up to.”
“Wonderful. Please call me as soon as…”
“Larry.” Sam stopped him with a deadly calm tone, dreading his words but helpless to change course. “I can keep you out of the official reports, I can do my damnedest to keep your involvement secret from Jackie Queen…”
“You let ME worry about Queen, Sam.”
“Larry, lives are at stake. Men have died, Dan’s in a coma, Jimmy might be in trouble.” Sam stopped there, his point implicit. Larry grunted unhappily. “I have to show my hand to Dan’s brother, and part of that hand will be a card marked ‘Larry Fletcher.’ He knows who you are and probably has a good idea what you were to Dan. But the longer he thinks he can keep his brother’s secret, the harder it’s going to be for him to help us.”
By now, Annie’s expression was as grim as it was confused, but she did not move a muscle.
“And you, Sam?” Larry breathed quietly, the challenge barely registering in his voice.
“You know how things are right now. I got nothing to lose, and maybe a life to save. Do what you got to do, but I’m playing every card in the deck if I can save Jimmy or any other person in this city from being kicked to death. I’ll call you as soon as I know something.” Sam hung up without waiting for his response to that. He headed for Gene’s office, and Annie followed. They stood awkwardly against Gene’s desk.
“I have a lead, Annie. A lead on the Tower case, but it’s…delicate.” He studied her critically, but she just stared back at him.
“Who is Jimmy?”
“I good kid who might be in over his head. I’ve got to find him.”
Annie nodded, unhappy with the answer. “What do you need me to do?”
“Dan Tower has a brother named Shelton. I’ve talked to him before, and he’s not a suspect in his brother’s beating. But I think he might…be involved in other ways. Due to Dan’s lifestyle.”
“His ‘lifestyle,’ Sir?” Annie squinted.
“Dan’s gay, Annie. And his brother knows it.”
>------------