Fic: Time and Tide. Green Cortina. Sam/Gene. by milly_gal
Title: Time and Tide.
Author: milly_gal
Rating: Green Cortina
Words: 1,428
Pairings: Sam/Gene
Summary: Nelson knows...
A/N: this is for basaltgrrl her prompt was 'Maudlin, falling down drunk Gene' I'm a little rusty. Hope this came out ok. Enjoy.
Nelson's seriously considering cutting Gene off.
That in and of itself is a bloody scary miracle. No one cuts Gene Hunt off, especially when it comes to alcohol, but he's been propping up the bar (or the bar's been propping him up) for about 3 hours.
Everyone else has cleared out.
It's not even close to closing time. It's something about the barely restrained fire in Gene's eyes, even if those eyes are half shut and rolling, that's made all of his normally hard drinking patrons bugger off home.
Nelson doesn't mind that so much, it's not like the erstwhile DCI isn't drinking enough to keep him in holiday homes and Cuban cigars for the next year at least. It's just that he's never seen the guy look this dejected before. And, even though he is the finest purveyor of single malts and it's his job to peddle his wares, he doesn't believe in encouraging a guy to kick himself while he's down.
"Mon'brav, think it's time you went 'ome don't you?"
"Ne...Nelnon, Nelsnon, Nelson, my son, I 'avent really got a home ta go ta. So unless ya willin' ta throw a bloke out in the street knowin' he'll 'ave to sleep under ya cellar flaps, I'm stayin' right 'ere"
Nelson can't bring himself to carry out the threat, it's not really his style. Hell if he didn't think Gene'd sit there and drink the entire stock from the back room, he'd let him sleep in the bar.
Forced into doing the only thing he can think of, even though he knows the man currently counting the water droplets sliding down his whiskey glass will not thank him for it, he picks up the phone and hopes the more sober of the double act is home.
"Sam, t'is Nelson, got a bit of a problem"
"What's he done this time?"
"Hasn't, yet! But I don' like the idea of him wandering round the city when he can barely stand"
"Okay okay, be there in five"
Putting down the phone, Nelson takes another look at Gene, just to check he's still on the barstool, and shakes his head in pity.
......................................................................................................................................................
Sam hangs up and sighs, "What have you done this time, you bloody fool!"
Throwing on his jacket, not bothering with a shirt, he heads out of the flat and hopes he gets to the pub in time to catch Gene before he hits the floor.
.......................................................................................................................................................
As promised, five minutes, on the dot.
Sam walks in, takes one look at the back of his Guv's dishevelled head and rolls his eyes.
Gene's just about aware, just about conscious, if he wasn't so damn wasted he'd have probably shrieked when Sam lays a hand on his shoulder.
"Gene, come on let's get you home"
Gene shakes his head, and instantly regrets it. World upside down. World totally and utterly upside down, "Jus' finished tellin' Nelly 'ere, got no 'ome"
Sam brings himself to Gene's eye level, even though that is currently the same level as the bar top, and frowns at him, "Don't talk daft, come on"
Nelson thinks this would be a good time to find something out the back to stock take and leaves the two coppers to it.
Sam is on the verge of bodily heaving Gene off the stool when he sees something that makes his stomach twist and flip. Gene's crying. Not floods, but, crying.
One single tear is snaking it's way down Gene's stubbly cheek and Sam has to squash the urge to wipe it away, "Don't cr..
"'m not fuckin' cryin'!"
"Ok, ok, What's wrong, what's happened?"
Gene lays his face flat to the bar, so his nose is squashed and he can feel the spilt whiskey seeping into his eyelids, "She threw me out"
When Sam doesn't reply, he puts his ear to the bar and stares sideways at his DI. Sam's confusion is obvious, but so is the evidence of him weighing up whether to prod or just offer Gene a bed for the night. Worry for his Guv wins out and Sam sits down next to him.
"What happened?"
Gene finally peels his face away from the sticky wood and leans heavily on one arm, "She threw me out, simple really"
Sam shakes his head and narrows his eyes, "No Gu...Gene, come on, it's never that simple. Tell me"
Gene's touched by Sam's concern and that is exactly the fuckin' problem, "What d'you care Sammy!"
Sam's taken aback by the venom in Gene's voice, but, he knows his Guv'nor well enough. Too well sometimes, he thinks. He knows that when he's hurting he likes, no needs to hurt others. So, he takes his life in his hands and he pushes, "Look, grumpy bollocks, I could have just told Nelson to go get screwed and left your sorry arse here, but instead I dragged myself down here to make sure you were ok, so stop being an arsehole, for once, and just spit it out"
Gene should be angry, he should be bloody fuming, but he's just noticed Sam's not wearing a shirt under that poncy leather jacket of his and he's momentarily distracted by the light dusting of hair that disappears below Sam's belt line.
Inwardly shaking and berating himself, he tries to focus on the sound of Sam's voice, but that's not helping either.
"Come on Gene, we're partners, you can talk to me"
The harshness of Gene's reply almost blows Sam backwards off his stool, "That's the fucking problem Dorothy, partners, it's all your fault, that's the damn fuckin' bloody pissin' rub ain't it!"
Sam says nothing, too confused to answer and too worried that Gene's next outburst will land him straight on his drunken arse, he's looking none too steady and Sam doesn't want to have to fireman's lift him off the floor.
"She, Janey, she...oh for god sake..."
Gene effects a whiney high pitched voice.
Sam can only assume it's meant to be a passable impression of Gene's wife.
"You and that stupid man, out all hours, never knowing when you'll be home. And all the while knowing you'd rather be out with him than indoors with me. At least before, I knew you were just out pissing your wages up the wall. Now I know that you're out with him because that's where you'd prefer to be. And when you do drag your sorry drunken backside home, I have to sit and watch you wish you were with him. I'm not daft Gene, I know love, or lust or whatever the hell it is that's got you so turned about, when I see it. Either way, I'm not putting up with it anymore. Get out, get out and STAY OUT!"
Sam's been transported into an alternate reality. That is the only plausible explanation.
There's a second solitary tear rolling down Gene's other cheek and he's hanging his head in shame and Sam can feel the truth in Gene's wife's words, but there's no way, no way that Gene, his Gene would ever admit them out loud.
Sam thinks for a moment, just a moment, and makes a decision, it's idiotic, it's stupid and it's practically deadly, but, if he's going to do it, he's going to have to do it now.
He leans forward, runs the side of a finger up Gene's cheek, wiping away the offending tear, cups his face in his other hand and drops the gentlest of kisses onto Gene's slack lips.
Gene doesn't react, not on the outside. Inside he's screaming, crowing, crying, shouting. There's a mixture of elation and terror rattling around inside his chest, but all he can physically do is offer a lopsided smirk and cock an eyebrow at his deputy, "Really?"
"Really"
"Oh"
"Yea...come on Gene, let's get you home"
......................................................................................................................................................
Nelson sneaks a look from the back room and smiles to himself, "'Bout time you two, 'bout bloody time"
Shaking his head and chuckling, he wonders whether he should have pushed and poked a little more or just left them to get on with it on their own. Deciding these things are best left to time and tide, he watches, satisfied with himself, as Sam man handles Gene away from the bar and out the door as gently as possible, and hopes they have a safe trip.
After all, wouldn't do to have his two best and favourite costumers manage to pull their head's out their backside's just for one of them to trip and stumble under an oncoming milk float, would it!
Author: milly_gal
Rating: Green Cortina
Words: 1,428
Pairings: Sam/Gene
Summary: Nelson knows...
A/N: this is for basaltgrrl her prompt was 'Maudlin, falling down drunk Gene' I'm a little rusty. Hope this came out ok. Enjoy.
Nelson's seriously considering cutting Gene off.
That in and of itself is a bloody scary miracle. No one cuts Gene Hunt off, especially when it comes to alcohol, but he's been propping up the bar (or the bar's been propping him up) for about 3 hours.
Everyone else has cleared out.
It's not even close to closing time. It's something about the barely restrained fire in Gene's eyes, even if those eyes are half shut and rolling, that's made all of his normally hard drinking patrons bugger off home.
Nelson doesn't mind that so much, it's not like the erstwhile DCI isn't drinking enough to keep him in holiday homes and Cuban cigars for the next year at least. It's just that he's never seen the guy look this dejected before. And, even though he is the finest purveyor of single malts and it's his job to peddle his wares, he doesn't believe in encouraging a guy to kick himself while he's down.
"Mon'brav, think it's time you went 'ome don't you?"
"Ne...Nelnon, Nelsnon, Nelson, my son, I 'avent really got a home ta go ta. So unless ya willin' ta throw a bloke out in the street knowin' he'll 'ave to sleep under ya cellar flaps, I'm stayin' right 'ere"
Nelson can't bring himself to carry out the threat, it's not really his style. Hell if he didn't think Gene'd sit there and drink the entire stock from the back room, he'd let him sleep in the bar.
Forced into doing the only thing he can think of, even though he knows the man currently counting the water droplets sliding down his whiskey glass will not thank him for it, he picks up the phone and hopes the more sober of the double act is home.
"Sam, t'is Nelson, got a bit of a problem"
"What's he done this time?"
"Hasn't, yet! But I don' like the idea of him wandering round the city when he can barely stand"
"Okay okay, be there in five"
Putting down the phone, Nelson takes another look at Gene, just to check he's still on the barstool, and shakes his head in pity.
......................................................................................................................................................
Sam hangs up and sighs, "What have you done this time, you bloody fool!"
Throwing on his jacket, not bothering with a shirt, he heads out of the flat and hopes he gets to the pub in time to catch Gene before he hits the floor.
.......................................................................................................................................................
As promised, five minutes, on the dot.
Sam walks in, takes one look at the back of his Guv's dishevelled head and rolls his eyes.
Gene's just about aware, just about conscious, if he wasn't so damn wasted he'd have probably shrieked when Sam lays a hand on his shoulder.
"Gene, come on let's get you home"
Gene shakes his head, and instantly regrets it. World upside down. World totally and utterly upside down, "Jus' finished tellin' Nelly 'ere, got no 'ome"
Sam brings himself to Gene's eye level, even though that is currently the same level as the bar top, and frowns at him, "Don't talk daft, come on"
Nelson thinks this would be a good time to find something out the back to stock take and leaves the two coppers to it.
Sam is on the verge of bodily heaving Gene off the stool when he sees something that makes his stomach twist and flip. Gene's crying. Not floods, but, crying.
One single tear is snaking it's way down Gene's stubbly cheek and Sam has to squash the urge to wipe it away, "Don't cr..
"'m not fuckin' cryin'!"
"Ok, ok, What's wrong, what's happened?"
Gene lays his face flat to the bar, so his nose is squashed and he can feel the spilt whiskey seeping into his eyelids, "She threw me out"
When Sam doesn't reply, he puts his ear to the bar and stares sideways at his DI. Sam's confusion is obvious, but so is the evidence of him weighing up whether to prod or just offer Gene a bed for the night. Worry for his Guv wins out and Sam sits down next to him.
"What happened?"
Gene finally peels his face away from the sticky wood and leans heavily on one arm, "She threw me out, simple really"
Sam shakes his head and narrows his eyes, "No Gu...Gene, come on, it's never that simple. Tell me"
Gene's touched by Sam's concern and that is exactly the fuckin' problem, "What d'you care Sammy!"
Sam's taken aback by the venom in Gene's voice, but, he knows his Guv'nor well enough. Too well sometimes, he thinks. He knows that when he's hurting he likes, no needs to hurt others. So, he takes his life in his hands and he pushes, "Look, grumpy bollocks, I could have just told Nelson to go get screwed and left your sorry arse here, but instead I dragged myself down here to make sure you were ok, so stop being an arsehole, for once, and just spit it out"
Gene should be angry, he should be bloody fuming, but he's just noticed Sam's not wearing a shirt under that poncy leather jacket of his and he's momentarily distracted by the light dusting of hair that disappears below Sam's belt line.
Inwardly shaking and berating himself, he tries to focus on the sound of Sam's voice, but that's not helping either.
"Come on Gene, we're partners, you can talk to me"
The harshness of Gene's reply almost blows Sam backwards off his stool, "That's the fucking problem Dorothy, partners, it's all your fault, that's the damn fuckin' bloody pissin' rub ain't it!"
Sam says nothing, too confused to answer and too worried that Gene's next outburst will land him straight on his drunken arse, he's looking none too steady and Sam doesn't want to have to fireman's lift him off the floor.
"She, Janey, she...oh for god sake..."
Gene effects a whiney high pitched voice.
Sam can only assume it's meant to be a passable impression of Gene's wife.
"You and that stupid man, out all hours, never knowing when you'll be home. And all the while knowing you'd rather be out with him than indoors with me. At least before, I knew you were just out pissing your wages up the wall. Now I know that you're out with him because that's where you'd prefer to be. And when you do drag your sorry drunken backside home, I have to sit and watch you wish you were with him. I'm not daft Gene, I know love, or lust or whatever the hell it is that's got you so turned about, when I see it. Either way, I'm not putting up with it anymore. Get out, get out and STAY OUT!"
Sam's been transported into an alternate reality. That is the only plausible explanation.
There's a second solitary tear rolling down Gene's other cheek and he's hanging his head in shame and Sam can feel the truth in Gene's wife's words, but there's no way, no way that Gene, his Gene would ever admit them out loud.
Sam thinks for a moment, just a moment, and makes a decision, it's idiotic, it's stupid and it's practically deadly, but, if he's going to do it, he's going to have to do it now.
He leans forward, runs the side of a finger up Gene's cheek, wiping away the offending tear, cups his face in his other hand and drops the gentlest of kisses onto Gene's slack lips.
Gene doesn't react, not on the outside. Inside he's screaming, crowing, crying, shouting. There's a mixture of elation and terror rattling around inside his chest, but all he can physically do is offer a lopsided smirk and cock an eyebrow at his deputy, "Really?"
"Really"
"Oh"
"Yea...come on Gene, let's get you home"
......................................................................................................................................................
Nelson sneaks a look from the back room and smiles to himself, "'Bout time you two, 'bout bloody time"
Shaking his head and chuckling, he wonders whether he should have pushed and poked a little more or just left them to get on with it on their own. Deciding these things are best left to time and tide, he watches, satisfied with himself, as Sam man handles Gene away from the bar and out the door as gently as possible, and hopes they have a safe trip.
After all, wouldn't do to have his two best and favourite costumers manage to pull their head's out their backside's just for one of them to trip and stumble under an oncoming milk float, would it!