Advent Calendar Day 22: FIC: Merry and Bright (1/2), by rebelxxwaltz, green cortina
Title: Merry and Bright
Author: rebelxxwaltz
Rating: Let's say… Green Cortina for the first part?
Notes: Since I've been practically living at work, I wasn't able to finish this in time to post it all in one go-- I forgot how little free time I actually have in the couple weeks leading up to Christmas! The concluding part will therefore be posted a day or two after Christmas. Sorry I wasn't able to finish it for today!
Word Count: 2400
Pairing(s): It's Sam/Gene, although a pairing is not particularly evident in the first part.
Summary: A chance encounter on Christmas Eve sets Sam and Gene up for an unexpectedly interesting holiday.
Sam Tyler had seen some unusual holiday-related crimes in his time as a detective. People were rarely murdered on Christmas Eve, and the types of serious cases that CID were generally concerned with tended to drop off in the days leading up to the holiday. Outlandish and opportunistic incidents were the order of the day instead, ranging from Santa Claus muggings to your run-of-the-mill nativity vandalism. Sam was suddenly stricken by a memory of Maya's astonished face when they'd taken that particular call together, along with her assertion that she would never look at a shepherd's hook the same way again.
He smiled a bit sadly, an expression of wistful sentiment that swiftly morphed into the hybrid of sudden nausea and spine-deep exhilarated terror that he had come to associate with Gene Hunt's driving. The Cortina skidded to an abrupt halt, and Sam exhaled slowly with one hand braced against the dashboard. Gene, for his part, simply smirked at Sam with his eyebrows raised and one hand digging into his coat pocket for the ever-present packet of fags.
"What's the matter Sammy-boy? All them mince pies from the canteen got your insides shakin' like a bowlful of jelly?"
Narrowing his eyes, Sam refused to be baited into yet another pointless argument about Gene's willful inability to obey either the rules of the road or the guidelines for common decency afforded to passengers in one's motor vehicle. "Something like that," he ground out.
Unfazed, Gene clapped Sam's shoulder with a gloved hand. "Well if you're gonna heave up, do it on your own time. Duty calls, inspector!"
Pulling the collar of his leather jacket up to keep the cold away from his neck, Sam jogged a few steps to catch up with the Guv as the taller man's long legs stalked toward the greengrocer at the end of the street. Unplanned desperation robberies were common in the lead up to Christmas, so it was no surprise when they were called to attend such a scene on their way back from re-interviewing a witness on a stalled case. The man who had intended to commit this particular robbery apparently had his attempt thwarted by the intervention of one of the shop's patrons, and uniform were already on the scene-- Sam and Gene would simply need to assess whether any further statements should be taken or other inquiries made.
The shop's bell 'dinged' cheerfully as the two men entered. There were a few people milling around including the aproned shopkeeper, who was understandably perturbed over the custom he was currently losing due to his shop's status as a crime scene. A man in handcuffs, presumably the suspect, was sitting on the floor next to the counter cradling the side of his head with one restrained hand and looking decidedly miserable. Two uniformed officers were involved in an animated exchange with a straight-backed older woman, who appeared to be clutching her handbag to her chest and eyeing the policemen with a curiously familiar expression of condescending suspicion.
As they approached the officers Gene froze in his tracks, causing Sam to walk straight into his broad back. "Oof. Guv, what--" Sam stepped out from behind the wall of camel hair to see Gene staring at the white-haired woman with his mouth hanging open. At the very same moment, the woman noticed the two of them, and became immediately disinterested in her uniformed companions as her piercing gaze alighted on the Guv. And that was the point from which this seemingly unremarkable crime skyrocketed up the rankings of strangeness and Christmas Eve 1973 became a day that Sam wouldn't soon forget. The elderly lady dropped her hands to her sides, squaring her shoulders as she opened her mouth to speak.
"It's about time you showed up, Eugene Hunt! Just look at the state this city is in, when an old woman can't even go buy a sack of potatoes without having to foil a blag!"
Sam scrunched his face in confusion, slowly turning to look at his superior officer. Gene shuffled his feet, rubbing at the back of his head with one hand and looking almost… embarrassed?
"Well, haven't you got anything to say?"
Gene's green eyes met the woman's, which were an oddly similar shade of aqua-emerald. He made a face that was half cringe, half pout.
"Hello, mum."
xxxxx
It soon became apparent to Sam that, in spite of her rather vociferous greeting, Gene's mother absolutely doted on her son. Once he'd managed to get over the shock, anyway. Gene's mother! Of course Sam knew in a logical sense that someone had given birth to Gene Hunt, as tempting as it was to imagine that the man had been violently stirred into existence within a sort of primordial soup consisting of whisky, bracing aftershave, and enough unformed molecular fibers to spawn an army of hideous neckties. But no-- Gene's mother was here and alive and Sam was so entertained by the concept that he only felt the barest of pangs in regards to all the versions of his own mother that he had loved, lost, or might never see again.
Gene had swiftly shooed his mother's uniformed companions away with an authoritative dismissal, demanding three cups of tea from the shopkeeper and carefully urging the elderly Mrs. Hunt to relinquish her handbag… which was soon revealed to contain such recognizable contents as a powder compact, some hand-knitted mittens, and a large half-brick. Sam watched with a bizarre sense of wonder as Gene's mother ignored his queries regarding her improvised self-defense system and the imprudence of walloping an armed criminal with her purse, instead attempting to straighten the Guv's unruly hair while admonishing him for not eating properly.
Sam knew it was only a matter of time before he would be noticed, and the arrival of three cups of tea plus attendant biscuits appeared to do the trick. Mrs. Hunt peered around Gene's hulking form to get a look at him, clearly curious about anyone in her son's acquaintance who warranted a status deserving of tea.
"Who's this handsome fellow then, Gene? Aren't you going to introduce us?" She smirked mildly, trying and failing to look innocent instead of mischievous. Sam had seen the same expression on Gene's face a thousand times, usually when he thought he was getting away with something.
Sniffing, Gene waved a dismissive hand in Sam's direction. "Who, him? Nobody important."
Rolling his eyes, Sam smiled around a put-upon sigh and extended his hand. "DI Tyler, ma'am. It's a pleasure."
Her hand was soft and delicate, but shook his own with a firmness that was somehow not a surprise. "Well at least somebody around here has manners."
Gene scowled as his mother's intelligent gaze roved between the two men.
"Tyler, eh? Ohhhh, this must be that Sam you're always going on about!" The old woman smiled indulgently. "How lovely to finally meet you."
"Er, likewise…?" Sam looked at Gene from the corner of his eye. Gene was pointedly avoiding even the most minimal of eye contact, jaw set in a hard line.
That Sam you're always going on about? What was that supposed to mean? Gene talked to his mother… about Sam? Sam allowed his thoughts to clatter against each other as Gene encouraged Mrs. Hunt to supply the details of how she had interrupted the burglary. Gene had clearly mentioned Sam to his mother. But… in what way? She seemed to look on him fondly, so perhaps Gene's regard for him was friendlier than he let on? It had been a bit of a rough road for the two of them, arguing all the time, sometimes coming to blows, but Sam had come to care for Gene… probably more than it was safe to admit. He never would have guessed the sentiment was mutual, but maybe… He snapped out of his reverie, realizing that he was being directly addressed by Mrs. Hunt.
"…what about you, young man? Off home to your family on Christmas Day?"
Sam spluttered. He hadn't even thought about Christmas Day if he was honest; perhaps he had been avoiding the subject in an attempt to stave off the lonely prospect of spending the holiday on his own. Annie had been the only one to ask him about his plans, and he'd made a quick excuse about needing the rest or maybe taking a quick trip out to Hyde. This time, however, his defenses were lowered and he found himself unable to conjure up a cheap white lie. "No, it'll just be me I suppose. No family, no place to go really." He peered at the surrounding produce, trying to affect an air of mild curiosity and hoping he didn't look as much like a lost child as he felt at that moment. "Should probably get some food in, since the shops will all be shut…" Sam trailed off with a self-effacing chuckle, looking down at his shoes in mute embarrassment.
Mrs. Hunt huffed indignantly. "Well, we can't be having that! You'll have to come join us. Won't he, son?" She was using that tone, familiar in the arsenal of mothers everywhere, which made it quite clear that this was not in fact a question.
Gene chewed the inside of his lip. "Mum, I really don't think--"
"Nonsense. I insist." She fixed Sam with a pleased expression before turning her attention back to her quietly steaming son. "Eugene can swing 'round about half twelve and you can drive over together." The hard edge to her glance was extremely familiar, and brooked no argument.
Watching Gene grit his teeth, Sam had a definite impression that he was caught between a rock and a hard place. He was apparently meant to choose between disappointing an old woman at Christmas or resigning himself to whatever means of punishment the Guv was ready to mete out if Sam accepted the invitation. He looked between the two Hunts, trying not to dwell on their similarities, focusing on the contrast between Gene's moody pout and Mrs. Hunt's gaze full of kindly anticipation. He knew the decision was inevitable. After all, he'd been the unfortunate target of Gene's fists enough times already-- what was one more pummeling between friends?
"I… right. Okay. That's very kind of you."
Gene narrowed his eyes. Sam ignored him.
"I'd love to, thanks."
xxxxx
The expected beating had never come. Gene's only noteworthy actions were to ignore Sam for most of the afternoon, continuing into CID's festive evening at the Railway Arms where the Guv occupied a lonely table in the corner and observed the holiday revelry with deep disapproval. Gene frowned and gulped his pint as Nelson handed out his special rum punch and Phyllis dragged Chris over to the mistletoe for a very instructive encounter.
Thinking back to their surprise meeting with Gene's mother earlier in the day, Sam wondered whether the man's morose demeanor was centered on him. Perhaps the intrusion was too great? The Guv's personal life had been a bit of a sore spot ever since the day in late September when Gene had stormed drunkenly into CID three hours late and announced to the entire incident room that he was moving the weekly poker game to Thursdays as his missus had finally buggered off for good and he would therefore do as he damn well pleased. Sam had managed to frog-march his superior officer into a secluded corner of the canteen and get three strong cups of coffee down him before he did any further damage to his liver or his reputation, and Gene had not mentioned his domestic situation a single time since.
At chucking out time, Sam followed Gene as he stalked his way to the crookedly parked Cortina.
"Sod off, Ethel. If I've got to cart your infuriating arse halfway across Greater Manchester on our lord and savior's birthday, you can walk home tonight. Or," he gestured wildly toward Ray, Chris, and Annie, who were laughing as they piled into Ray's small car, "you could always hitch a ride back to your manger with the two kings and a queen over there. I'm sure Carling's Christmas farts smell just like Frankincense."
Sam managed not to laugh, but only just. "That's alright Guv-- nice enough night for a walk anyway. I just wanted to talk to you about--"
Gene bent his tall frame away from Sam, gloved hands braced against the roof of the Cortina. "Give me strength! You always need to talk." He whipped around, hair glowing in the halo of streetlight surrounding them. "Can't a bloke have a silent bloody night now and again?"
Eyebrows knitting, Sam felt oddly shy as he looked down at Gene's shoes. "I just… tomorrow. If you don't want me along it's alright, you know? I don't want to impose while you're spending time with your family."
If Sam hadn't been focusing his attention on a crack in the pavement, he might have noticed the way Gene's face softened as he released a weary sigh. "Don't be stupid, Tyler. My old mum made it perfectly clear that your presence is required. And besides--" He trailed off, leaning against the driver's side door.
Some of the tension seemed to drain away from Gene's shoulders as Sam raised his head. "Besides what?"
They regarded each other quietly for several moments as the sound of Ray's car engine faded into the cold distance.
"Well," Gene began with casual reluctance, "not much of a party, is it, with just the two of us left… Mum loves a bit of company, so if that means I've got to listen to your picky speeches about the proper procedure for applying gravy to a Yorkshire pudding or which order to eat my sprouts in then so be it."
It was possibly the most sentimental and bizarrely touching thing that Sam had ever heard Gene say, and he found himself left somewhat speechless. Gene, however, was affected by no such difficulty.
"Just mind you're ready by half past or I'll break the door down and stomp on more than just yer toys."
Sam broke into a full-fledged smile. "Yes, Guv."
xxxxx
Ooooookay! Hope you guys liked it so far. I'll finish it up over the next few days and post the conclusion once everyone has shared the rest of their Advent goodies. Poor Gene, looks like he'll be the one caught between a rock and a hard place if Sam and Mrs. Hunt start ganging up on him! Ah well, I'm sure things will turn out in his favor when it's all said and done. ;)
Author: rebelxxwaltz
Rating: Let's say… Green Cortina for the first part?
Notes: Since I've been practically living at work, I wasn't able to finish this in time to post it all in one go-- I forgot how little free time I actually have in the couple weeks leading up to Christmas! The concluding part will therefore be posted a day or two after Christmas. Sorry I wasn't able to finish it for today!
Word Count: 2400
Pairing(s): It's Sam/Gene, although a pairing is not particularly evident in the first part.
Summary: A chance encounter on Christmas Eve sets Sam and Gene up for an unexpectedly interesting holiday.
Sam Tyler had seen some unusual holiday-related crimes in his time as a detective. People were rarely murdered on Christmas Eve, and the types of serious cases that CID were generally concerned with tended to drop off in the days leading up to the holiday. Outlandish and opportunistic incidents were the order of the day instead, ranging from Santa Claus muggings to your run-of-the-mill nativity vandalism. Sam was suddenly stricken by a memory of Maya's astonished face when they'd taken that particular call together, along with her assertion that she would never look at a shepherd's hook the same way again.
He smiled a bit sadly, an expression of wistful sentiment that swiftly morphed into the hybrid of sudden nausea and spine-deep exhilarated terror that he had come to associate with Gene Hunt's driving. The Cortina skidded to an abrupt halt, and Sam exhaled slowly with one hand braced against the dashboard. Gene, for his part, simply smirked at Sam with his eyebrows raised and one hand digging into his coat pocket for the ever-present packet of fags.
"What's the matter Sammy-boy? All them mince pies from the canteen got your insides shakin' like a bowlful of jelly?"
Narrowing his eyes, Sam refused to be baited into yet another pointless argument about Gene's willful inability to obey either the rules of the road or the guidelines for common decency afforded to passengers in one's motor vehicle. "Something like that," he ground out.
Unfazed, Gene clapped Sam's shoulder with a gloved hand. "Well if you're gonna heave up, do it on your own time. Duty calls, inspector!"
Pulling the collar of his leather jacket up to keep the cold away from his neck, Sam jogged a few steps to catch up with the Guv as the taller man's long legs stalked toward the greengrocer at the end of the street. Unplanned desperation robberies were common in the lead up to Christmas, so it was no surprise when they were called to attend such a scene on their way back from re-interviewing a witness on a stalled case. The man who had intended to commit this particular robbery apparently had his attempt thwarted by the intervention of one of the shop's patrons, and uniform were already on the scene-- Sam and Gene would simply need to assess whether any further statements should be taken or other inquiries made.
The shop's bell 'dinged' cheerfully as the two men entered. There were a few people milling around including the aproned shopkeeper, who was understandably perturbed over the custom he was currently losing due to his shop's status as a crime scene. A man in handcuffs, presumably the suspect, was sitting on the floor next to the counter cradling the side of his head with one restrained hand and looking decidedly miserable. Two uniformed officers were involved in an animated exchange with a straight-backed older woman, who appeared to be clutching her handbag to her chest and eyeing the policemen with a curiously familiar expression of condescending suspicion.
As they approached the officers Gene froze in his tracks, causing Sam to walk straight into his broad back. "Oof. Guv, what--" Sam stepped out from behind the wall of camel hair to see Gene staring at the white-haired woman with his mouth hanging open. At the very same moment, the woman noticed the two of them, and became immediately disinterested in her uniformed companions as her piercing gaze alighted on the Guv. And that was the point from which this seemingly unremarkable crime skyrocketed up the rankings of strangeness and Christmas Eve 1973 became a day that Sam wouldn't soon forget. The elderly lady dropped her hands to her sides, squaring her shoulders as she opened her mouth to speak.
"It's about time you showed up, Eugene Hunt! Just look at the state this city is in, when an old woman can't even go buy a sack of potatoes without having to foil a blag!"
Sam scrunched his face in confusion, slowly turning to look at his superior officer. Gene shuffled his feet, rubbing at the back of his head with one hand and looking almost… embarrassed?
"Well, haven't you got anything to say?"
Gene's green eyes met the woman's, which were an oddly similar shade of aqua-emerald. He made a face that was half cringe, half pout.
"Hello, mum."
xxxxx
It soon became apparent to Sam that, in spite of her rather vociferous greeting, Gene's mother absolutely doted on her son. Once he'd managed to get over the shock, anyway. Gene's mother! Of course Sam knew in a logical sense that someone had given birth to Gene Hunt, as tempting as it was to imagine that the man had been violently stirred into existence within a sort of primordial soup consisting of whisky, bracing aftershave, and enough unformed molecular fibers to spawn an army of hideous neckties. But no-- Gene's mother was here and alive and Sam was so entertained by the concept that he only felt the barest of pangs in regards to all the versions of his own mother that he had loved, lost, or might never see again.
Gene had swiftly shooed his mother's uniformed companions away with an authoritative dismissal, demanding three cups of tea from the shopkeeper and carefully urging the elderly Mrs. Hunt to relinquish her handbag… which was soon revealed to contain such recognizable contents as a powder compact, some hand-knitted mittens, and a large half-brick. Sam watched with a bizarre sense of wonder as Gene's mother ignored his queries regarding her improvised self-defense system and the imprudence of walloping an armed criminal with her purse, instead attempting to straighten the Guv's unruly hair while admonishing him for not eating properly.
Sam knew it was only a matter of time before he would be noticed, and the arrival of three cups of tea plus attendant biscuits appeared to do the trick. Mrs. Hunt peered around Gene's hulking form to get a look at him, clearly curious about anyone in her son's acquaintance who warranted a status deserving of tea.
"Who's this handsome fellow then, Gene? Aren't you going to introduce us?" She smirked mildly, trying and failing to look innocent instead of mischievous. Sam had seen the same expression on Gene's face a thousand times, usually when he thought he was getting away with something.
Sniffing, Gene waved a dismissive hand in Sam's direction. "Who, him? Nobody important."
Rolling his eyes, Sam smiled around a put-upon sigh and extended his hand. "DI Tyler, ma'am. It's a pleasure."
Her hand was soft and delicate, but shook his own with a firmness that was somehow not a surprise. "Well at least somebody around here has manners."
Gene scowled as his mother's intelligent gaze roved between the two men.
"Tyler, eh? Ohhhh, this must be that Sam you're always going on about!" The old woman smiled indulgently. "How lovely to finally meet you."
"Er, likewise…?" Sam looked at Gene from the corner of his eye. Gene was pointedly avoiding even the most minimal of eye contact, jaw set in a hard line.
That Sam you're always going on about? What was that supposed to mean? Gene talked to his mother… about Sam? Sam allowed his thoughts to clatter against each other as Gene encouraged Mrs. Hunt to supply the details of how she had interrupted the burglary. Gene had clearly mentioned Sam to his mother. But… in what way? She seemed to look on him fondly, so perhaps Gene's regard for him was friendlier than he let on? It had been a bit of a rough road for the two of them, arguing all the time, sometimes coming to blows, but Sam had come to care for Gene… probably more than it was safe to admit. He never would have guessed the sentiment was mutual, but maybe… He snapped out of his reverie, realizing that he was being directly addressed by Mrs. Hunt.
"…what about you, young man? Off home to your family on Christmas Day?"
Sam spluttered. He hadn't even thought about Christmas Day if he was honest; perhaps he had been avoiding the subject in an attempt to stave off the lonely prospect of spending the holiday on his own. Annie had been the only one to ask him about his plans, and he'd made a quick excuse about needing the rest or maybe taking a quick trip out to Hyde. This time, however, his defenses were lowered and he found himself unable to conjure up a cheap white lie. "No, it'll just be me I suppose. No family, no place to go really." He peered at the surrounding produce, trying to affect an air of mild curiosity and hoping he didn't look as much like a lost child as he felt at that moment. "Should probably get some food in, since the shops will all be shut…" Sam trailed off with a self-effacing chuckle, looking down at his shoes in mute embarrassment.
Mrs. Hunt huffed indignantly. "Well, we can't be having that! You'll have to come join us. Won't he, son?" She was using that tone, familiar in the arsenal of mothers everywhere, which made it quite clear that this was not in fact a question.
Gene chewed the inside of his lip. "Mum, I really don't think--"
"Nonsense. I insist." She fixed Sam with a pleased expression before turning her attention back to her quietly steaming son. "Eugene can swing 'round about half twelve and you can drive over together." The hard edge to her glance was extremely familiar, and brooked no argument.
Watching Gene grit his teeth, Sam had a definite impression that he was caught between a rock and a hard place. He was apparently meant to choose between disappointing an old woman at Christmas or resigning himself to whatever means of punishment the Guv was ready to mete out if Sam accepted the invitation. He looked between the two Hunts, trying not to dwell on their similarities, focusing on the contrast between Gene's moody pout and Mrs. Hunt's gaze full of kindly anticipation. He knew the decision was inevitable. After all, he'd been the unfortunate target of Gene's fists enough times already-- what was one more pummeling between friends?
"I… right. Okay. That's very kind of you."
Gene narrowed his eyes. Sam ignored him.
"I'd love to, thanks."
xxxxx
The expected beating had never come. Gene's only noteworthy actions were to ignore Sam for most of the afternoon, continuing into CID's festive evening at the Railway Arms where the Guv occupied a lonely table in the corner and observed the holiday revelry with deep disapproval. Gene frowned and gulped his pint as Nelson handed out his special rum punch and Phyllis dragged Chris over to the mistletoe for a very instructive encounter.
Thinking back to their surprise meeting with Gene's mother earlier in the day, Sam wondered whether the man's morose demeanor was centered on him. Perhaps the intrusion was too great? The Guv's personal life had been a bit of a sore spot ever since the day in late September when Gene had stormed drunkenly into CID three hours late and announced to the entire incident room that he was moving the weekly poker game to Thursdays as his missus had finally buggered off for good and he would therefore do as he damn well pleased. Sam had managed to frog-march his superior officer into a secluded corner of the canteen and get three strong cups of coffee down him before he did any further damage to his liver or his reputation, and Gene had not mentioned his domestic situation a single time since.
At chucking out time, Sam followed Gene as he stalked his way to the crookedly parked Cortina.
"Sod off, Ethel. If I've got to cart your infuriating arse halfway across Greater Manchester on our lord and savior's birthday, you can walk home tonight. Or," he gestured wildly toward Ray, Chris, and Annie, who were laughing as they piled into Ray's small car, "you could always hitch a ride back to your manger with the two kings and a queen over there. I'm sure Carling's Christmas farts smell just like Frankincense."
Sam managed not to laugh, but only just. "That's alright Guv-- nice enough night for a walk anyway. I just wanted to talk to you about--"
Gene bent his tall frame away from Sam, gloved hands braced against the roof of the Cortina. "Give me strength! You always need to talk." He whipped around, hair glowing in the halo of streetlight surrounding them. "Can't a bloke have a silent bloody night now and again?"
Eyebrows knitting, Sam felt oddly shy as he looked down at Gene's shoes. "I just… tomorrow. If you don't want me along it's alright, you know? I don't want to impose while you're spending time with your family."
If Sam hadn't been focusing his attention on a crack in the pavement, he might have noticed the way Gene's face softened as he released a weary sigh. "Don't be stupid, Tyler. My old mum made it perfectly clear that your presence is required. And besides--" He trailed off, leaning against the driver's side door.
Some of the tension seemed to drain away from Gene's shoulders as Sam raised his head. "Besides what?"
They regarded each other quietly for several moments as the sound of Ray's car engine faded into the cold distance.
"Well," Gene began with casual reluctance, "not much of a party, is it, with just the two of us left… Mum loves a bit of company, so if that means I've got to listen to your picky speeches about the proper procedure for applying gravy to a Yorkshire pudding or which order to eat my sprouts in then so be it."
It was possibly the most sentimental and bizarrely touching thing that Sam had ever heard Gene say, and he found himself left somewhat speechless. Gene, however, was affected by no such difficulty.
"Just mind you're ready by half past or I'll break the door down and stomp on more than just yer toys."
Sam broke into a full-fledged smile. "Yes, Guv."
xxxxx
Ooooookay! Hope you guys liked it so far. I'll finish it up over the next few days and post the conclusion once everyone has shared the rest of their Advent goodies. Poor Gene, looks like he'll be the one caught between a rock and a hard place if Sam and Mrs. Hunt start ganging up on him! Ah well, I'm sure things will turn out in his favor when it's all said and done. ;)