Fic: Love on Mars - part 9
As promised, here's the next chapter. Was meant to post this sooner, so I apologize for that.
All parts found here.
Love on Mars - part nine
Author: lunadeath02
Pairing: Gene/Sam, Chris/Sam, Sam/Woolf, Sam/Patrick, Sam/Annie, Sam/?
Rating: Brown Cortina (NC-17)
Warnings: Slash, slight het, PWP (Porn with plot?), spanking, language, a not-so-monogamous Sam, and slight angst.
Summary: (Almost) Everyone wants a piece of Sam’s pie. (And Sam’s willing to give it away)
Notes: This fic started with the fact that Sam’s got a nice arse, and everyone else thinks so too. It progressed to other things. This isn’t a fic to be taken seriously; it’s mainly written just for fun. (Certain aspects of the 70s are being ignored)
Disclaimer: I do not own, BBC and Kudos does.
Oh dear lord, plot? When the hell did this happen?!
~**~
Something was buzzing, and Sam slowly started to wake up, only to find that it was his telly.
That was right; he went home afterwards. Slowly, he stretched a little to feel that his muscles were slightly sore from last night, and his arse wasn’t feeling as tender as it had been. He looked up at his telly, out of habit, and noticed that the little girl with the clown was gone from the screen.
“Shit…”
“You’re really loved now, aren’t you, Sam?”
Sam moaned, running a hand across his face. “Not you…”
“Never going to be lonely again, are you?”
“I thought you were gone for good.”
“I’m always in your mind, Sam. Just not as often any more.”
“Oh, lovely,” Sam deadpanned.
“Are you having a better time in this year?” she said, floating closer to him. “Are you feeling really loved now?”
Sam glared at her. “What do you know about what’s going on?”
“I’m in your mind, Sam. I’ll always be in your mind.”
Sam shut his eyes as if in pain. “Please, just go away…”
“But you want answers, don’t you? You want to know why everyone’s so attracted to you. Or should I say, those that you’re attracted to love you back.”
Sam stared. “What?”
“They all love you so much now, don’t they, Sam? One way or another.”
“Tell me what’s going on,” Sam demanded.
“Never lonely again,” she crooned. “You’ll never be lonely again. They might even fight for your love, here on Mars. Won’t that be fun?”
“Fight?” Sam stared in shock for a second, and then felt annoyed. “I don’t want them to fight over me!”
“Better think fast, Sam, because they will. Especially the one you love the most. They’ll fight and hit and cry and bleed…”
“Shut up!” Sam shouted, and then suddenly he was waking up again, as if from a dream. He ran a hand over his face and noticed that he’d been sweating. He swore softly and got up for work.
~**~
When Sam entered CID, he noticed a familiar face right away.
“Hello, Sam. How’ve you been?”
Sam stared, dumbstruck. “Glen? Wow, what… what the bleeding hell are you doing here?”
“Nice to see you too,” Glen snorted. “I’ve been made the new Sergeant.”
Sam continued to stare, but this time his jaw dropped. “You’ve got to be shitting me! Really?”
“Really,” said Glen, chewing gum and smiling. “We’ll be able to work together again. Brilliant, yeah?”
“Yeah, great,” Sam smiled. “This is… just unbelievable.”
“All right, enough flirtin’ on the job,” said Gene, walking out of his office. “Time to get that drug dealer talkin’.”
“Oh, right!” said Sam, smacking himself on the forehead and earning looks of confusion when he did. “I nearly forgot about the store owner we pulled in.”
“That’s why I’m the DCI and yer just the poncy Inspector,” Gene smirked. “And if you keep hitting yerself like that, Tyler, you might knock whatever’s left of yer sanity out of yer ears. And there’s not much of that left, is there?”
Sam wasn’t too annoyed with Gene’s words, and he wondered if it was because he was happy to see his old mentor again or if it had anything to do with last night. Shrugging, Sam followed Gene to the Lost and Found room, knowing that the plods must have already put Andy the store owner/drug dealer in it. When he entered the so-called interview room he remembered that he hadn’t seen Ray anywhere, but decided to find out later when they were done with the suspect.
“Good morning, sir,” said Gene in a false cheer, “nice to see that you’ve recovered well enough for our questioning to continue. Now, I hope that you’ve learned yer lesson from last time, so I’m only gonna say this once: are you or are you not dealing the old Mary Jane in my city?”
The storeowner, Andy, kept quiet as he stared fearfully up at Gene. Sam sighed, resting his head in one hand and drumming his fingers on the table with the other. This would go a lot faster if the guy would just confess already. He obviously didn’t know that it was a really bad thing to make Gene Hunt lose his patience.
“Don’t make me repeat myself,” said Gene in a low, dangerous tone as he leaned in closer to Andy. “If you don’t answer, I’m gonna lay you out like last time and put you back in yer cell.”
“I don’t… I mean, it’s just that…”
Gene hit the table in front of the storeowner, making his jump and cry out in fear. “Okay, okay… I’ll talk,” he squeaked. “It’s not just me dealing, all right? There’s also Bertha.”
Gene’s eyebrows rose and he glanced over at Sam before returning his gaze on Andy. “A bird?”
“Yeah, a bird,” Andy said nervously. “She deals with the women who want some and I deal with the guys.”
“At last, a result! Tell me where I can find this Bertha.”
“She works a couple blocks down from my store. She runs this toy shop that sells more than just stuffed animals with cotton in them…”
“There’s also pixie dust,” Gene quipped.
“Surname?” Sam urged.
“Cheshire.” Andy said quickly. “Do… do I get my jail time shortened for telling you this?”
“We’ll see,” said Gene. “But I’m making no guarantees.”
~**~
When they walked out of Lost and Found, Gene waved the new Sergeant over.
“Take Fletcher with you,” said Gene. Glen slowly walked toward them.
“What about Annie?” said Sam. “This is a woman we’re going to arrest.”
“Fine, take Cartwright as well if she wants to go, but I want you and Sergeant Fletcher to get more acquainted with each other… work-wise, I mean. No shaggin’ on the job.”
“We’re already acquainted, though.”
“Just do as yer told, Tyler,” Gene growled. He went into his office, obviously to have a scotch and probably a kip. Sam sighed, slightly annoyed. Glen stared at him.
“What are we doing?” he asked.
“We’re arresting Bertha Cheshire. I’m going to get the warrant first.” Sam stared at Gene’s office door for a moment before going to do just that. Glen shrugged and tagged along.
Sam had no idea why Superintendent Woolf appointed Glen as the Sergeant, because there had been a falling out, so to speak, last time he was here. Maybe it was because of Woolf doing the case he was doing before retiring from the force that made him reconsider Glen. Sam wasn’t sure, but he was glad for it. Another thing he was glad for was that he felt no attraction toward his old mentor, so he was pretty sure that Glen wasn’t going to start chatting him up or try to kiss him (if what the Test Card Girl said was true). Glen had at one time thought Sam was a poof, and Sam had no reply to that without sounding too protesting. Then there was the fact that he couldn’t reply because Glen was on the right track about him. No matter how many women Sam had gone out with, there was no denying he was bi-curious. He’d joined in a circle-jerk a couple times when he was on the force, after he’d admitted to himself about his crush on that one football player. He had also found himself checking out guys, but of course he made no advances, then. Secretly, in 2006, he considered himself bisexual, but that he was attracted to women more. It looked as though he had to rethink his status.
“So, how’ve you been, Sam?” Glen asked as they drove to Bertha’s store. Annie had actually declined in going with them for some reason, and Sam hoped it wasn’t because of anything he said. “Is DCI Hunt still driving you mad?”
“In a manner of speaking,” Sam said after a pause. “Not so bad lately.”
“That’s good.”
They drove on the rest of the way in silence. Sam really didn’t know what to say at the moment, and he doubted Glen wanted to hear about his sex life. He pulled the Rover up next to the toy store and shut the motor off. They got out, and Sam hoped that this wouldn’t end in disaster. He wished that Annie was with instead, because she’d be a calming influence. Glen, although kind, was still a guy and carried a gun. No doubt Gene told him to take one just because he knew that Sam wouldn’t. Sam brought his radio, just in case.
The sign above the door said Iris & Image Toys, Inc. When they entered, a little bell at the top of the door rang indicating that they had customers. The owner didn’t come out right away, so Sam took this time to look around and survey the area. There was a back room behind the counter, and by the looks of it there was also a back door that probably led out into the back alley. Sam stared at all the stuffed animals and toys lining the shelves. The store really was cute, and he wished even more now that Annie came with them; she would have liked it.
“What can I do for you gentlemen?” a woman whom Sam guessed was Bertha asked. “From the looks of you two, I would guess that you’re looking for something for a loved one. A girlfriend or wife, perhaps? Or maybe even a daughter?”
Glen looked at Sam, clearly waiting for him to make the first move. Well, he was the superior officer during this timeline. It was hard to think of this lady as a drug dealer; she had a kind face and a pleasant smile. Sam sighed and slowly took out his badge; duty was duty after all.
“DI Sam Tyler,” he said softly, and then Glen took out his badge too.
“Sergeant Fletcher.”
“Oh, dear,” she said. “What can I do for you sirs?”
Frowning, Sam took out the warrant and showed it to her. “Bertha Cheshire, I have a warrant for your arrest, so please come quietly to the station with us.”
Her eyes widened and then her bottom lip quivered. Oh great, she was going to start crying.
“I-I don’t understand, Inspector… what have I done wrong? I only run this quaint little toy shop, barely getting by as it is, and now I’m being arrested?” Tears were now running down her cheeks. She picked up part of her dress to dab at her eyes. Sam’s stomach dropped at the sight of her crying, but he knew that he couldn’t have emotion sway him right now; she could be acting.
Glen, however, moved forward immediately and put his arms around her. “There there, Miss Cheshire…”
“Missus, actually,” she said softly, still weeping into her dress. “Oh, what will my husband think now? And the children? What will happen with their Mummy in prison? They’ll blame you police of course, and then they’ll do horrible in school and get teased something awful…” She cried harder into her hands.
“I’m really sorry for this, Mrs. Cheshire,” said Sam. “But you’ve been ratted out by Andy… what’s his last name, Glen?”
“Um… Zahn.”
Bertha’s eyes widened. “Andy? The convenient store owner?”
“That’s him,” said Sam. “So, come down to the station with us. If it’s been all a misunderstanding, then you can explain things there.”
She resigned herself and went with them. Sam was very glad there was no chasing this time. Bertha didn’t look as though she could run, actually, but one never knew by first impressions. He stopped at the front door, a sudden thought hitting him.
“Bring her to the car; I’m going to check something.”
“All right, Boss,” said Glen. Sam gave a dopey smile at being called that by his former mentor.
Sam backtracked into the store and went into the little backroom behind the counter. He looked through all the drawers for anything suspicious but found nothing. Then he looked further into the backroom and found a couple dressers that held sewing kits, and there was a suspicious looking safe with a combination lock. He opened the back door and saw that he was right in figuring out that it led into the back alley. There was no one suspicious lurking about, so he shut the door and continued with his search. The only thing he couldn’t fully search through was the safe. He went back into the store and then paused. A stuffed kitten on a shelf seemed to be calling to him. He picked it up and stared at it for a while before taking it out with him.
When he sat in the driver’s seat, he put the stuffed animal into Glen’s lap and then started the car.
“Um, thanks, Sam, but I don’t play with stuffed animals.”
Sam laughed. “It’s not for you.”
“Hey, you have to pay for that!” Bertha objected.
“I will later, if you’re found not guilty.”
Glen eyed him peculiarly.
~**~
Bertha was guilty. In Lost and Found, Sam and Annie had interviewed her; it didn’t take as long as Sam thought to make her confess. She said that she hadn’t always been a dealer, only recently. She was guaranteed not to be caught by the methods she used. She didn’t count on Andy to tell on her, and that made her even angrier. This time she cried tears of anger instead of woe, and Annie tried to be sympathetic, but it was hard to do when she expressed no emotion for those she got hooked on drugs. She hadn’t been just dealing with marijuana; she also sold crack, heroin, and cocaine, which had been found in the safe later that day. She would give her users a stuffed animal filled with whatever drug they needed, and they’d pay her for the toy in the store, but before that they had to give her money for the drugs in the back alley.
“And the sewing kit I found, that was for re-sewing the animals after putting the drugs in them.”
“Yes,” she sobbed. “I thought I had it made… that bastard Andy! Please let me hit him, just once.”
“No,” said Sam. “Contrary to what you think, he doesn’t deserve your anger. You should redirect that to who is really to blame.” He stood and looked down at her, and Annie got up after shutting the tape recorder off. “You’ll have plenty of time to think about it in jail.”
~**~
Patrick was free to go. Although he could leave the station, he stuck around, and Sam suddenly remembered why. He’d promised him a night together. Sam rubbed at his face, slightly embarrassed by the events, but was kind of looking forward to it. Every time Gene tried to corner Sam, Sam would make an excuse to leave his presence and Gene could only stand there in confusion as he watched Sam walk away.
Chris then came up to him, wanting to talk with him alone, but Sam had to brush him off as well. When it came close to the end of the working day, Sam finally found it safe enough to walk back to his desk. One could only visit the canteen and collator’s den so many times before getting sick of them. When he arrived at his desk, the flowers were still sitting there, and he also realized that he left the stuffed kitten on it too. He looked behind him to see that Annie was staring at him in a peculiar way, so he figured it was now or never. He picked up the stuffed animal and made his way over to her desk.
“Annie,” he greeted.
“Sam,” she said, crossing her arms.
“Um… this is for you.” He set the stuffed animal onto her desk in front of her. “I’m not sure if it’s your favorite animal, but I thought maybe you’d like it, because, um… you know, it’s cute.”
Annie bit her bottom lip, and he wasn’t sure if she was trying not to laugh or if she just did that when she was in deep thought. Her eyebrows flew up and she had that ‘oh really?’ look in her eyes.
“So, is that all this is for? Just because you thought it was cute.”
Sam floundered a little. “Well… the thing is, see… when you declined going with me and Glen to arrest Bertha Cheshire I thought maybe you were upset with me, so, you know…”
“You thought getting me a stuffed animal would make me not upset with you anymore.” Annie sighed, shaking her head in amusement. “Oh, Sam… I’m not upset with you.”
Sam stared. “Well, then why wouldn’t you come with?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. Just… I guess I wanted it to just be the two of us; I didn’t want anyone else around.”
She had that look in her eyes, and then that was when Sam caught on. Annie had plans to getting him alone, but with Glen there she wouldn’t be able to accomplish that. Sam felt himself blush, but was smiling, trying to make it look as though he wasn’t too affected by her words.
“You little minx,” he said. She smiled back, cheeks a little pink. “Unfortunately, Annie, I promised Patrick I’d spend some time with him tonight.”
She looked surprised again, and Sam had no idea what excuse he could give her, so he just left it at that.
“Well, if Patrick is more important than me…”
“I didn’t say that,” Sam said quickly. “I just meant that I made a promise to him a couple days ago and I really should keep it. Otherwise, I’d love to… spend some time with you.”
“Should I pencil you in, then?” she said, sounding obviously irritated by the events unfolding. “A fortnight, perhaps?”
“Annie, please…”
“That’s fine, Sam. You keep your promise to a drug suspect. I’ll just do nothing again tonight, as always.”
“He’s not a suspect anymore, and anyway, why are you suddenly caring? You hadn’t showed this much attraction toward me in a while.”
She stared at him. “Like I said before, there’s something different about you now. You’re more… you know…” she waved a hand in the air.
“Attractive?” Sam supplied.
“Yes.”
This attraction business was both a curse and a blessing, he was finding out. He should use it to his advantage, actually, and try to consider it a blessing. He sat on the corner of her desk and leaned close to her. She was blushing, and that was just the reaction he’d been hoping for.
“I promise, Annie, that tomorrow night we’ll do something. Just the two of us, okay?”
“You really promise?”
“Yes, I do.”
~**~
Patrick was waiting for him outside of the building, at the bottom of the steps. As Sam walked down, he could feel Patrick’s eyes raking him over before he saw him looking. Now he felt dirty instead of charming.
“Sam.”
“Patrick. Sorry to say, but I usually walk to work and back.”
“That’s fine. I need to stretch me legs out after staying in that cell.”
They walked in silence for a while, and then Sam spoke up.
“So, you won’t be smoking any more wacky tobaccy now, right?”
Patrick laughed. “Well, since you took away my supplier, I guess I’m not.” And the unspoken ‘until I find a new one’ Sam heard loud and clear, but he opted not to comment. He didn’t feel like getting into a fight just yet.
“I hope you stay drug-free, because that will improve your health in the long run.”
“Don’t worry about me, I’m good.”
The rest of the trip was done in silence again, and Sam stuck his hands in his pockets because he really didn’t know what else to do. He wondered what Patrick wanted to do the minute they got there, and he thought maybe starting dinner would help to delay the inevitable a tad more. Sam wasn’t a stupid tart; he knew what Patrick wanted and he had a feeling he wanted to get right to it.
He’d guessed right. The moment Sam shut and locked his flat’s door Patrick had latched his lips onto his neck. Sam had to push him away as gently as he could.
“I’m hungry, so I’ll make food first,” he announced, squirming out of Patrick’s hands.
“Oh, all right,” said Patrick. He sat on Sam’s bed as he watched Sam take out quite a few ingredients and begin mixing things together. Patrick watched in fascination as the not-so-normal DI knocked up some dinner.
“You always make things that aren’t simple?” Patrick asked suddenly. Sam turned to stare at him.
“It’s not that hard,” he said, confused.
“Well, I mean you don’t just crack open a tin of beans and spread it on toast. You actually cook.”
Sam smiled. “Course I do; it’s something I enjoy doing, other than saving people’s lives and putting baddies away. It’s kind of relaxing.”
Patrick smirked, and then lay back on Sam’s bed, hands behind head and eyes closed. “Let me know when it’s done.”
Ten minutes later, it was done, and Sam set up a place for them to eat. He evened everything out between them, and when Patrick took his first bite, he smiled. “Wow, Sam, you are a good cook.” He shoveled more into his mouth.
“So I’ve been told.” Sam blushed.
“Maybe you should do this as a part-time job.”
“Thought about it…” Sam chewed a bit before swallowing. “So, um…” He couldn’t think of anything specific to talk about, and he ended up stuttering when he realized he was only trying to avoid the main issue of why they’re there. Patrick quirked an eyebrow at him and then the bed, an unspoken signal. Sam ate slower after that.
It came time to put the empty dishes away, and Sam stalled a bit more, but wasn’t sure why he was stalling. What the Test Card Girl had told him that morning struck a slight nerve with him, and the thought of doing this behind his lovers’ backs was probably what made him hesitate. He was a tart, he knew that, but he was finally getting the attack of the guilts. He looked behind him after rinsing the last of the dishes and saw that Patrick was undressing already. Steeling himself, Sam made his decision: to hell with Gene and his stupid Neanderthal ways; he was having this.
Sam turned and without missing a beat started to take his shirt off. Patrick was completely naked by the time Sam approached the bed, toeing off his shoes on the way and undoing his belt. As Patrick stroked himself, Sam tried not to measure him up to Gene or Woolf. His underwear finally slid off and then he was crawling on top of Patrick and kissing him, like the tart he was. Their erections slid together and Sam moaned, nearly swallowing Patrick’s tongue.
“You really are eager, aren’t ya?” Patrick drawled, slipping a finger into Sam’s arse. It didn’t have much resistance, since it had two cocks in it last night and still somewhat lubed. He didn’t know if Patrick noticed, but he gave no outward sign that he did. Patrick pushed a second finger in, and Sam pushed back on those fingers, whimpering. “Want it already?” Patrick whispered. Sam nodded, and then he was suddenly hanging upside down on the side of his bed, head touching the floor as Patrick hoisted his legs up and placed them on his shoulders. With one thrust, Patrick was inside. Sam gasped, clenching around him with arse and thighs, and Patrick moaned and started to thrust immediately.
“Yer kind of open,” said Patrick, smirking. “You had Hunt last night, didn’t ya? Did he really fill you up? Did he come inside you? Bet you liked that, you little slut.”
Sam moaned, concurring, and then gasped when Patrick pinched his arse and then slapped it. Patrick wasn’t as thick as Gene, but he still knew how to use it and he was hitting his prostate with every thrust. Sam cantered his hips in time with Patrick, and when it got wilder, Sam’s head was hitting the floor. It didn’t hurt, but he didn’t want any neighbors wondering what the hell was going on, so he placed his hands flat on the floor so that his head wouldn’t be touching anymore. He was still being roughly fucked and found that he was slipping more and more off the bed. Suddenly, he was halfway off, lower part of his back right on the edge, and heels dug in to stop from going further. Patrick pulled him up a bit more onto his lap, bringing him back on the bed more, and then resumed his hard fucking. Sam cried out.
“Been wanting this arse since I saw it saunter in my line of sight…” Patrick moaned. “Oh hell yes, it’s just as good as it looks…”
Sam blushed, but was too turned on to care, and then he was being hauled back onto the bed with Patrick on the bottom this time. He was ordered to ride Patrick’s cock like a pony, so he did. Patrick played with his nipples for a while before smacking his arse again. And then, unexpectedly, Patrick was coming, loudly with quick jerks. Sam clutched his own cock and stroked quickly, wanting to go over the edge too. When he came, it felt incredible, but he knew in the back of his mind that it wasn’t near as good as last night.
Sam stumbled off to use the bathroom, and when he shut the door he heard the sound of a lighter being used.
TBC
Next time on Love on Mars: Sam gets a present!
All parts found here.
Love on Mars - part nine
Author: lunadeath02
Pairing: Gene/Sam, Chris/Sam, Sam/Woolf, Sam/Patrick, Sam/Annie, Sam/?
Rating: Brown Cortina (NC-17)
Warnings: Slash, slight het, PWP (Porn with plot?), spanking, language, a not-so-monogamous Sam, and slight angst.
Summary: (Almost) Everyone wants a piece of Sam’s pie. (And Sam’s willing to give it away)
Notes: This fic started with the fact that Sam’s got a nice arse, and everyone else thinks so too. It progressed to other things. This isn’t a fic to be taken seriously; it’s mainly written just for fun. (Certain aspects of the 70s are being ignored)
Disclaimer: I do not own, BBC and Kudos does.
Oh dear lord, plot? When the hell did this happen?!
~**~
Something was buzzing, and Sam slowly started to wake up, only to find that it was his telly.
That was right; he went home afterwards. Slowly, he stretched a little to feel that his muscles were slightly sore from last night, and his arse wasn’t feeling as tender as it had been. He looked up at his telly, out of habit, and noticed that the little girl with the clown was gone from the screen.
“Shit…”
“You’re really loved now, aren’t you, Sam?”
Sam moaned, running a hand across his face. “Not you…”
“Never going to be lonely again, are you?”
“I thought you were gone for good.”
“I’m always in your mind, Sam. Just not as often any more.”
“Oh, lovely,” Sam deadpanned.
“Are you having a better time in this year?” she said, floating closer to him. “Are you feeling really loved now?”
Sam glared at her. “What do you know about what’s going on?”
“I’m in your mind, Sam. I’ll always be in your mind.”
Sam shut his eyes as if in pain. “Please, just go away…”
“But you want answers, don’t you? You want to know why everyone’s so attracted to you. Or should I say, those that you’re attracted to love you back.”
Sam stared. “What?”
“They all love you so much now, don’t they, Sam? One way or another.”
“Tell me what’s going on,” Sam demanded.
“Never lonely again,” she crooned. “You’ll never be lonely again. They might even fight for your love, here on Mars. Won’t that be fun?”
“Fight?” Sam stared in shock for a second, and then felt annoyed. “I don’t want them to fight over me!”
“Better think fast, Sam, because they will. Especially the one you love the most. They’ll fight and hit and cry and bleed…”
“Shut up!” Sam shouted, and then suddenly he was waking up again, as if from a dream. He ran a hand over his face and noticed that he’d been sweating. He swore softly and got up for work.
~**~
When Sam entered CID, he noticed a familiar face right away.
“Hello, Sam. How’ve you been?”
Sam stared, dumbstruck. “Glen? Wow, what… what the bleeding hell are you doing here?”
“Nice to see you too,” Glen snorted. “I’ve been made the new Sergeant.”
Sam continued to stare, but this time his jaw dropped. “You’ve got to be shitting me! Really?”
“Really,” said Glen, chewing gum and smiling. “We’ll be able to work together again. Brilliant, yeah?”
“Yeah, great,” Sam smiled. “This is… just unbelievable.”
“All right, enough flirtin’ on the job,” said Gene, walking out of his office. “Time to get that drug dealer talkin’.”
“Oh, right!” said Sam, smacking himself on the forehead and earning looks of confusion when he did. “I nearly forgot about the store owner we pulled in.”
“That’s why I’m the DCI and yer just the poncy Inspector,” Gene smirked. “And if you keep hitting yerself like that, Tyler, you might knock whatever’s left of yer sanity out of yer ears. And there’s not much of that left, is there?”
Sam wasn’t too annoyed with Gene’s words, and he wondered if it was because he was happy to see his old mentor again or if it had anything to do with last night. Shrugging, Sam followed Gene to the Lost and Found room, knowing that the plods must have already put Andy the store owner/drug dealer in it. When he entered the so-called interview room he remembered that he hadn’t seen Ray anywhere, but decided to find out later when they were done with the suspect.
“Good morning, sir,” said Gene in a false cheer, “nice to see that you’ve recovered well enough for our questioning to continue. Now, I hope that you’ve learned yer lesson from last time, so I’m only gonna say this once: are you or are you not dealing the old Mary Jane in my city?”
The storeowner, Andy, kept quiet as he stared fearfully up at Gene. Sam sighed, resting his head in one hand and drumming his fingers on the table with the other. This would go a lot faster if the guy would just confess already. He obviously didn’t know that it was a really bad thing to make Gene Hunt lose his patience.
“Don’t make me repeat myself,” said Gene in a low, dangerous tone as he leaned in closer to Andy. “If you don’t answer, I’m gonna lay you out like last time and put you back in yer cell.”
“I don’t… I mean, it’s just that…”
Gene hit the table in front of the storeowner, making his jump and cry out in fear. “Okay, okay… I’ll talk,” he squeaked. “It’s not just me dealing, all right? There’s also Bertha.”
Gene’s eyebrows rose and he glanced over at Sam before returning his gaze on Andy. “A bird?”
“Yeah, a bird,” Andy said nervously. “She deals with the women who want some and I deal with the guys.”
“At last, a result! Tell me where I can find this Bertha.”
“She works a couple blocks down from my store. She runs this toy shop that sells more than just stuffed animals with cotton in them…”
“There’s also pixie dust,” Gene quipped.
“Surname?” Sam urged.
“Cheshire.” Andy said quickly. “Do… do I get my jail time shortened for telling you this?”
“We’ll see,” said Gene. “But I’m making no guarantees.”
~**~
When they walked out of Lost and Found, Gene waved the new Sergeant over.
“Take Fletcher with you,” said Gene. Glen slowly walked toward them.
“What about Annie?” said Sam. “This is a woman we’re going to arrest.”
“Fine, take Cartwright as well if she wants to go, but I want you and Sergeant Fletcher to get more acquainted with each other… work-wise, I mean. No shaggin’ on the job.”
“We’re already acquainted, though.”
“Just do as yer told, Tyler,” Gene growled. He went into his office, obviously to have a scotch and probably a kip. Sam sighed, slightly annoyed. Glen stared at him.
“What are we doing?” he asked.
“We’re arresting Bertha Cheshire. I’m going to get the warrant first.” Sam stared at Gene’s office door for a moment before going to do just that. Glen shrugged and tagged along.
Sam had no idea why Superintendent Woolf appointed Glen as the Sergeant, because there had been a falling out, so to speak, last time he was here. Maybe it was because of Woolf doing the case he was doing before retiring from the force that made him reconsider Glen. Sam wasn’t sure, but he was glad for it. Another thing he was glad for was that he felt no attraction toward his old mentor, so he was pretty sure that Glen wasn’t going to start chatting him up or try to kiss him (if what the Test Card Girl said was true). Glen had at one time thought Sam was a poof, and Sam had no reply to that without sounding too protesting. Then there was the fact that he couldn’t reply because Glen was on the right track about him. No matter how many women Sam had gone out with, there was no denying he was bi-curious. He’d joined in a circle-jerk a couple times when he was on the force, after he’d admitted to himself about his crush on that one football player. He had also found himself checking out guys, but of course he made no advances, then. Secretly, in 2006, he considered himself bisexual, but that he was attracted to women more. It looked as though he had to rethink his status.
“So, how’ve you been, Sam?” Glen asked as they drove to Bertha’s store. Annie had actually declined in going with them for some reason, and Sam hoped it wasn’t because of anything he said. “Is DCI Hunt still driving you mad?”
“In a manner of speaking,” Sam said after a pause. “Not so bad lately.”
“That’s good.”
They drove on the rest of the way in silence. Sam really didn’t know what to say at the moment, and he doubted Glen wanted to hear about his sex life. He pulled the Rover up next to the toy store and shut the motor off. They got out, and Sam hoped that this wouldn’t end in disaster. He wished that Annie was with instead, because she’d be a calming influence. Glen, although kind, was still a guy and carried a gun. No doubt Gene told him to take one just because he knew that Sam wouldn’t. Sam brought his radio, just in case.
The sign above the door said Iris & Image Toys, Inc. When they entered, a little bell at the top of the door rang indicating that they had customers. The owner didn’t come out right away, so Sam took this time to look around and survey the area. There was a back room behind the counter, and by the looks of it there was also a back door that probably led out into the back alley. Sam stared at all the stuffed animals and toys lining the shelves. The store really was cute, and he wished even more now that Annie came with them; she would have liked it.
“What can I do for you gentlemen?” a woman whom Sam guessed was Bertha asked. “From the looks of you two, I would guess that you’re looking for something for a loved one. A girlfriend or wife, perhaps? Or maybe even a daughter?”
Glen looked at Sam, clearly waiting for him to make the first move. Well, he was the superior officer during this timeline. It was hard to think of this lady as a drug dealer; she had a kind face and a pleasant smile. Sam sighed and slowly took out his badge; duty was duty after all.
“DI Sam Tyler,” he said softly, and then Glen took out his badge too.
“Sergeant Fletcher.”
“Oh, dear,” she said. “What can I do for you sirs?”
Frowning, Sam took out the warrant and showed it to her. “Bertha Cheshire, I have a warrant for your arrest, so please come quietly to the station with us.”
Her eyes widened and then her bottom lip quivered. Oh great, she was going to start crying.
“I-I don’t understand, Inspector… what have I done wrong? I only run this quaint little toy shop, barely getting by as it is, and now I’m being arrested?” Tears were now running down her cheeks. She picked up part of her dress to dab at her eyes. Sam’s stomach dropped at the sight of her crying, but he knew that he couldn’t have emotion sway him right now; she could be acting.
Glen, however, moved forward immediately and put his arms around her. “There there, Miss Cheshire…”
“Missus, actually,” she said softly, still weeping into her dress. “Oh, what will my husband think now? And the children? What will happen with their Mummy in prison? They’ll blame you police of course, and then they’ll do horrible in school and get teased something awful…” She cried harder into her hands.
“I’m really sorry for this, Mrs. Cheshire,” said Sam. “But you’ve been ratted out by Andy… what’s his last name, Glen?”
“Um… Zahn.”
Bertha’s eyes widened. “Andy? The convenient store owner?”
“That’s him,” said Sam. “So, come down to the station with us. If it’s been all a misunderstanding, then you can explain things there.”
She resigned herself and went with them. Sam was very glad there was no chasing this time. Bertha didn’t look as though she could run, actually, but one never knew by first impressions. He stopped at the front door, a sudden thought hitting him.
“Bring her to the car; I’m going to check something.”
“All right, Boss,” said Glen. Sam gave a dopey smile at being called that by his former mentor.
Sam backtracked into the store and went into the little backroom behind the counter. He looked through all the drawers for anything suspicious but found nothing. Then he looked further into the backroom and found a couple dressers that held sewing kits, and there was a suspicious looking safe with a combination lock. He opened the back door and saw that he was right in figuring out that it led into the back alley. There was no one suspicious lurking about, so he shut the door and continued with his search. The only thing he couldn’t fully search through was the safe. He went back into the store and then paused. A stuffed kitten on a shelf seemed to be calling to him. He picked it up and stared at it for a while before taking it out with him.
When he sat in the driver’s seat, he put the stuffed animal into Glen’s lap and then started the car.
“Um, thanks, Sam, but I don’t play with stuffed animals.”
Sam laughed. “It’s not for you.”
“Hey, you have to pay for that!” Bertha objected.
“I will later, if you’re found not guilty.”
Glen eyed him peculiarly.
~**~
Bertha was guilty. In Lost and Found, Sam and Annie had interviewed her; it didn’t take as long as Sam thought to make her confess. She said that she hadn’t always been a dealer, only recently. She was guaranteed not to be caught by the methods she used. She didn’t count on Andy to tell on her, and that made her even angrier. This time she cried tears of anger instead of woe, and Annie tried to be sympathetic, but it was hard to do when she expressed no emotion for those she got hooked on drugs. She hadn’t been just dealing with marijuana; she also sold crack, heroin, and cocaine, which had been found in the safe later that day. She would give her users a stuffed animal filled with whatever drug they needed, and they’d pay her for the toy in the store, but before that they had to give her money for the drugs in the back alley.
“And the sewing kit I found, that was for re-sewing the animals after putting the drugs in them.”
“Yes,” she sobbed. “I thought I had it made… that bastard Andy! Please let me hit him, just once.”
“No,” said Sam. “Contrary to what you think, he doesn’t deserve your anger. You should redirect that to who is really to blame.” He stood and looked down at her, and Annie got up after shutting the tape recorder off. “You’ll have plenty of time to think about it in jail.”
~**~
Patrick was free to go. Although he could leave the station, he stuck around, and Sam suddenly remembered why. He’d promised him a night together. Sam rubbed at his face, slightly embarrassed by the events, but was kind of looking forward to it. Every time Gene tried to corner Sam, Sam would make an excuse to leave his presence and Gene could only stand there in confusion as he watched Sam walk away.
Chris then came up to him, wanting to talk with him alone, but Sam had to brush him off as well. When it came close to the end of the working day, Sam finally found it safe enough to walk back to his desk. One could only visit the canteen and collator’s den so many times before getting sick of them. When he arrived at his desk, the flowers were still sitting there, and he also realized that he left the stuffed kitten on it too. He looked behind him to see that Annie was staring at him in a peculiar way, so he figured it was now or never. He picked up the stuffed animal and made his way over to her desk.
“Annie,” he greeted.
“Sam,” she said, crossing her arms.
“Um… this is for you.” He set the stuffed animal onto her desk in front of her. “I’m not sure if it’s your favorite animal, but I thought maybe you’d like it, because, um… you know, it’s cute.”
Annie bit her bottom lip, and he wasn’t sure if she was trying not to laugh or if she just did that when she was in deep thought. Her eyebrows flew up and she had that ‘oh really?’ look in her eyes.
“So, is that all this is for? Just because you thought it was cute.”
Sam floundered a little. “Well… the thing is, see… when you declined going with me and Glen to arrest Bertha Cheshire I thought maybe you were upset with me, so, you know…”
“You thought getting me a stuffed animal would make me not upset with you anymore.” Annie sighed, shaking her head in amusement. “Oh, Sam… I’m not upset with you.”
Sam stared. “Well, then why wouldn’t you come with?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. Just… I guess I wanted it to just be the two of us; I didn’t want anyone else around.”
She had that look in her eyes, and then that was when Sam caught on. Annie had plans to getting him alone, but with Glen there she wouldn’t be able to accomplish that. Sam felt himself blush, but was smiling, trying to make it look as though he wasn’t too affected by her words.
“You little minx,” he said. She smiled back, cheeks a little pink. “Unfortunately, Annie, I promised Patrick I’d spend some time with him tonight.”
She looked surprised again, and Sam had no idea what excuse he could give her, so he just left it at that.
“Well, if Patrick is more important than me…”
“I didn’t say that,” Sam said quickly. “I just meant that I made a promise to him a couple days ago and I really should keep it. Otherwise, I’d love to… spend some time with you.”
“Should I pencil you in, then?” she said, sounding obviously irritated by the events unfolding. “A fortnight, perhaps?”
“Annie, please…”
“That’s fine, Sam. You keep your promise to a drug suspect. I’ll just do nothing again tonight, as always.”
“He’s not a suspect anymore, and anyway, why are you suddenly caring? You hadn’t showed this much attraction toward me in a while.”
She stared at him. “Like I said before, there’s something different about you now. You’re more… you know…” she waved a hand in the air.
“Attractive?” Sam supplied.
“Yes.”
This attraction business was both a curse and a blessing, he was finding out. He should use it to his advantage, actually, and try to consider it a blessing. He sat on the corner of her desk and leaned close to her. She was blushing, and that was just the reaction he’d been hoping for.
“I promise, Annie, that tomorrow night we’ll do something. Just the two of us, okay?”
“You really promise?”
“Yes, I do.”
~**~
Patrick was waiting for him outside of the building, at the bottom of the steps. As Sam walked down, he could feel Patrick’s eyes raking him over before he saw him looking. Now he felt dirty instead of charming.
“Sam.”
“Patrick. Sorry to say, but I usually walk to work and back.”
“That’s fine. I need to stretch me legs out after staying in that cell.”
They walked in silence for a while, and then Sam spoke up.
“So, you won’t be smoking any more wacky tobaccy now, right?”
Patrick laughed. “Well, since you took away my supplier, I guess I’m not.” And the unspoken ‘until I find a new one’ Sam heard loud and clear, but he opted not to comment. He didn’t feel like getting into a fight just yet.
“I hope you stay drug-free, because that will improve your health in the long run.”
“Don’t worry about me, I’m good.”
The rest of the trip was done in silence again, and Sam stuck his hands in his pockets because he really didn’t know what else to do. He wondered what Patrick wanted to do the minute they got there, and he thought maybe starting dinner would help to delay the inevitable a tad more. Sam wasn’t a stupid tart; he knew what Patrick wanted and he had a feeling he wanted to get right to it.
He’d guessed right. The moment Sam shut and locked his flat’s door Patrick had latched his lips onto his neck. Sam had to push him away as gently as he could.
“I’m hungry, so I’ll make food first,” he announced, squirming out of Patrick’s hands.
“Oh, all right,” said Patrick. He sat on Sam’s bed as he watched Sam take out quite a few ingredients and begin mixing things together. Patrick watched in fascination as the not-so-normal DI knocked up some dinner.
“You always make things that aren’t simple?” Patrick asked suddenly. Sam turned to stare at him.
“It’s not that hard,” he said, confused.
“Well, I mean you don’t just crack open a tin of beans and spread it on toast. You actually cook.”
Sam smiled. “Course I do; it’s something I enjoy doing, other than saving people’s lives and putting baddies away. It’s kind of relaxing.”
Patrick smirked, and then lay back on Sam’s bed, hands behind head and eyes closed. “Let me know when it’s done.”
Ten minutes later, it was done, and Sam set up a place for them to eat. He evened everything out between them, and when Patrick took his first bite, he smiled. “Wow, Sam, you are a good cook.” He shoveled more into his mouth.
“So I’ve been told.” Sam blushed.
“Maybe you should do this as a part-time job.”
“Thought about it…” Sam chewed a bit before swallowing. “So, um…” He couldn’t think of anything specific to talk about, and he ended up stuttering when he realized he was only trying to avoid the main issue of why they’re there. Patrick quirked an eyebrow at him and then the bed, an unspoken signal. Sam ate slower after that.
It came time to put the empty dishes away, and Sam stalled a bit more, but wasn’t sure why he was stalling. What the Test Card Girl had told him that morning struck a slight nerve with him, and the thought of doing this behind his lovers’ backs was probably what made him hesitate. He was a tart, he knew that, but he was finally getting the attack of the guilts. He looked behind him after rinsing the last of the dishes and saw that Patrick was undressing already. Steeling himself, Sam made his decision: to hell with Gene and his stupid Neanderthal ways; he was having this.
Sam turned and without missing a beat started to take his shirt off. Patrick was completely naked by the time Sam approached the bed, toeing off his shoes on the way and undoing his belt. As Patrick stroked himself, Sam tried not to measure him up to Gene or Woolf. His underwear finally slid off and then he was crawling on top of Patrick and kissing him, like the tart he was. Their erections slid together and Sam moaned, nearly swallowing Patrick’s tongue.
“You really are eager, aren’t ya?” Patrick drawled, slipping a finger into Sam’s arse. It didn’t have much resistance, since it had two cocks in it last night and still somewhat lubed. He didn’t know if Patrick noticed, but he gave no outward sign that he did. Patrick pushed a second finger in, and Sam pushed back on those fingers, whimpering. “Want it already?” Patrick whispered. Sam nodded, and then he was suddenly hanging upside down on the side of his bed, head touching the floor as Patrick hoisted his legs up and placed them on his shoulders. With one thrust, Patrick was inside. Sam gasped, clenching around him with arse and thighs, and Patrick moaned and started to thrust immediately.
“Yer kind of open,” said Patrick, smirking. “You had Hunt last night, didn’t ya? Did he really fill you up? Did he come inside you? Bet you liked that, you little slut.”
Sam moaned, concurring, and then gasped when Patrick pinched his arse and then slapped it. Patrick wasn’t as thick as Gene, but he still knew how to use it and he was hitting his prostate with every thrust. Sam cantered his hips in time with Patrick, and when it got wilder, Sam’s head was hitting the floor. It didn’t hurt, but he didn’t want any neighbors wondering what the hell was going on, so he placed his hands flat on the floor so that his head wouldn’t be touching anymore. He was still being roughly fucked and found that he was slipping more and more off the bed. Suddenly, he was halfway off, lower part of his back right on the edge, and heels dug in to stop from going further. Patrick pulled him up a bit more onto his lap, bringing him back on the bed more, and then resumed his hard fucking. Sam cried out.
“Been wanting this arse since I saw it saunter in my line of sight…” Patrick moaned. “Oh hell yes, it’s just as good as it looks…”
Sam blushed, but was too turned on to care, and then he was being hauled back onto the bed with Patrick on the bottom this time. He was ordered to ride Patrick’s cock like a pony, so he did. Patrick played with his nipples for a while before smacking his arse again. And then, unexpectedly, Patrick was coming, loudly with quick jerks. Sam clutched his own cock and stroked quickly, wanting to go over the edge too. When he came, it felt incredible, but he knew in the back of his mind that it wasn’t near as good as last night.
Sam stumbled off to use the bathroom, and when he shut the door he heard the sound of a lighter being used.
TBC
Next time on Love on Mars: Sam gets a present!