Breaking the rules by fawsley, blue cortina, Sam/Gene
Title: Breaking the rules
Author: fawsley
Rating: blue cortina
Warnings: Aftermath of flying fists - spose it's sort of H/C but that's all Gene's fault really.
Characters: Sam/Gene
Word Count: 755
Disclaimer: All the property of BBC and Kudos
Note: Between us, myself and toolazytowork have managed to convert bethctg to the gorgeousness that is Sam/Gene-ship. She hasn't joined the comm yet but as soon as we let her out of the Cortina's boot I'm sure she'll do so. Anway, she has to go to work today and was not happy about the fact, so asked for emails to cheer her up. I offered to send Gene licking kissing beating up Sam, to which she replied YES PLEASE and so I ended up writing all three off the top of me head. Call it Dec-sam-ber daftnesss!
Breaking the rules
Gene’s in close, hauling his DI up by the lapels and, as usual, it’s Sam who throws the first punch. Within seconds two sets of fists are flying hard and fast, no quarter being given or expected. Then Gene catches Sam off-guard with a particularly vicious thump, doubling him up and sending him sprawling backwards across the room, into the wall and down onto the floor.
The Guv stands tall and blows on his knuckles.
‘All right, Tyler. You can get up now yer nancy-boy.’
Nothing. Just the slow trickle of blood from a cut lip.
‘Tyler! Get up yer nonce!’
Still nothing, and the Guv’s golden moment of triumph crumbles away into stark grey horror.
Gene crouches down beside his fallen opponent, shaking him by the shoulder and slapping his face. Sam draws a great heaving breath and tries to bat away the unexpected ministrations.
‘S’all right, Guv. M’ok. Just winded. S’ok.’
Sam’s eyes open, still looking somewhat dazed.
‘You all right, Tyler?’
‘M’sorry, Guv. My fault…’
Since Sam arrived Gene does sometimes read reports and findings, straggling somewhat behind rather than keeping up with theories and research, though he’d never admit it to anyone, himself least of all. Right now, Sam’s words echo that last paper on battered wives far too closely for any comfort whatsoever, hit as hard as any fist.
‘Shit, Sam…’
‘Honest, I’m ok. You caught me with a good ‘un there.’
‘Shit Sam, I shouldn’t be hitting you like this!’
‘Don’t be daft. I started it after all - remember? Well, I think I did, think I remember that much…’
‘No, shouldn’t…’
Gene’s hands have resorted to stroking now, running through short hair, wiping at the lip that just won’t stop bleeding. He’s still in close but what little atmosphere is squeezed in between them is of a totally different hue to any they’ve known before. When they started whispering neither would be able to say.
‘S’ok, honestly.’
‘Isn’t. Shouldn’t. Sam…’
‘I enjoy it, really. Think we both do.’
‘Enjoy it?’
‘Yeah, you know… Helps…’
Sam shifts himself to sit up straighter, Gene offers support by holding him tight, doesn’t let go.
‘Helps?’
‘Doesn’t it?’
They’re both breathing fast and shallow, raking each others’ faces for signs and signals that whatever wavelength they’re finding themselves on is the same. Because if it’s not then they’re in big trouble.
‘Helps?’
‘Helps release the tension…’
Sam stares hard at his Guv, swallows hard.
‘…relieve the frustration…’
Gene’s been rocking back and forth on his heels just a little, not that he knows it, but now as Sam swallows again, blinks, looks absolutely terrified, he sways like a man about to fall, cups his DI’s face and leans in closer than ever.
The kiss is everything the fight wasn’t. Slow and tender, lips ghosting feather-light over Sam’s own, tongue licking gently at the cut, full of care and concern.
‘I don’t think,’ Sam finally finds breath to remark, ‘that that’s in the Queensberry Rules…’
Gene pulls back and gives him a hard look.
‘You callin’ me a queen, Tyler?’
Sam throws caution to the wind and laughs out loud.
‘Don’t think I’d ever dare!’
‘Cos if you are…’
‘I’m not! Honest!’
He scrambles to his knees, stumbles as he finds his feet, lands safe in Gene’s arms.
‘Hey up! Yer still wobbling Tyler. Reckon you might have concussion after all.’
‘Don’t be daft. You just winded me. Never hit me head at all.’
Gene puts a cool palm upon Sam’s forehead and frowns.
‘Nope. Running a temperature. Definitely concussion.’
‘Rubbish! Don’t have a temperature and don’t have concussion!’
Gene grabs Sam firmly around the waist and steers him towards the door.
‘If I say you’ve got concussion, Tyler, then you’ve got concussion. Understand? You need to go home and I’m taking you there.’
Sam wriggles hard but the Guv’s grip is too strong to make escape an easy option.
‘Guv! Honestly! I’m fine! There’s nothing wrong with me!’
They grind to a halt and the hard stare returns, brooking no argument.
‘Tyler. Just shut up and listen to me. You are going home and I’m taking you there. You need to rest. You need to go to bed. Understand?’
‘There’s really no need…’
‘I said shut up! You are going home. You are going to bed.’
‘Oh…’
Gene pauses and takes the sort of deep breath he does before he goes all shouty. But it comes out in a whisper for Sam’s ears only.
‘And I’m coming with you.’
Author: fawsley
Rating: blue cortina
Warnings: Aftermath of flying fists - spose it's sort of H/C but that's all Gene's fault really.
Characters: Sam/Gene
Word Count: 755
Disclaimer: All the property of BBC and Kudos
Note: Between us, myself and toolazytowork have managed to convert bethctg to the gorgeousness that is Sam/Gene-ship. She hasn't joined the comm yet but as soon as we let her out of the Cortina's boot I'm sure she'll do so. Anway, she has to go to work today and was not happy about the fact, so asked for emails to cheer her up. I offered to send Gene licking kissing beating up Sam, to which she replied YES PLEASE and so I ended up writing all three off the top of me head. Call it Dec-sam-ber daftnesss!
Breaking the rules
Gene’s in close, hauling his DI up by the lapels and, as usual, it’s Sam who throws the first punch. Within seconds two sets of fists are flying hard and fast, no quarter being given or expected. Then Gene catches Sam off-guard with a particularly vicious thump, doubling him up and sending him sprawling backwards across the room, into the wall and down onto the floor.
The Guv stands tall and blows on his knuckles.
‘All right, Tyler. You can get up now yer nancy-boy.’
Nothing. Just the slow trickle of blood from a cut lip.
‘Tyler! Get up yer nonce!’
Still nothing, and the Guv’s golden moment of triumph crumbles away into stark grey horror.
Gene crouches down beside his fallen opponent, shaking him by the shoulder and slapping his face. Sam draws a great heaving breath and tries to bat away the unexpected ministrations.
‘S’all right, Guv. M’ok. Just winded. S’ok.’
Sam’s eyes open, still looking somewhat dazed.
‘You all right, Tyler?’
‘M’sorry, Guv. My fault…’
Since Sam arrived Gene does sometimes read reports and findings, straggling somewhat behind rather than keeping up with theories and research, though he’d never admit it to anyone, himself least of all. Right now, Sam’s words echo that last paper on battered wives far too closely for any comfort whatsoever, hit as hard as any fist.
‘Shit, Sam…’
‘Honest, I’m ok. You caught me with a good ‘un there.’
‘Shit Sam, I shouldn’t be hitting you like this!’
‘Don’t be daft. I started it after all - remember? Well, I think I did, think I remember that much…’
‘No, shouldn’t…’
Gene’s hands have resorted to stroking now, running through short hair, wiping at the lip that just won’t stop bleeding. He’s still in close but what little atmosphere is squeezed in between them is of a totally different hue to any they’ve known before. When they started whispering neither would be able to say.
‘S’ok, honestly.’
‘Isn’t. Shouldn’t. Sam…’
‘I enjoy it, really. Think we both do.’
‘Enjoy it?’
‘Yeah, you know… Helps…’
Sam shifts himself to sit up straighter, Gene offers support by holding him tight, doesn’t let go.
‘Helps?’
‘Doesn’t it?’
They’re both breathing fast and shallow, raking each others’ faces for signs and signals that whatever wavelength they’re finding themselves on is the same. Because if it’s not then they’re in big trouble.
‘Helps?’
‘Helps release the tension…’
Sam stares hard at his Guv, swallows hard.
‘…relieve the frustration…’
Gene’s been rocking back and forth on his heels just a little, not that he knows it, but now as Sam swallows again, blinks, looks absolutely terrified, he sways like a man about to fall, cups his DI’s face and leans in closer than ever.
The kiss is everything the fight wasn’t. Slow and tender, lips ghosting feather-light over Sam’s own, tongue licking gently at the cut, full of care and concern.
‘I don’t think,’ Sam finally finds breath to remark, ‘that that’s in the Queensberry Rules…’
Gene pulls back and gives him a hard look.
‘You callin’ me a queen, Tyler?’
Sam throws caution to the wind and laughs out loud.
‘Don’t think I’d ever dare!’
‘Cos if you are…’
‘I’m not! Honest!’
He scrambles to his knees, stumbles as he finds his feet, lands safe in Gene’s arms.
‘Hey up! Yer still wobbling Tyler. Reckon you might have concussion after all.’
‘Don’t be daft. You just winded me. Never hit me head at all.’
Gene puts a cool palm upon Sam’s forehead and frowns.
‘Nope. Running a temperature. Definitely concussion.’
‘Rubbish! Don’t have a temperature and don’t have concussion!’
Gene grabs Sam firmly around the waist and steers him towards the door.
‘If I say you’ve got concussion, Tyler, then you’ve got concussion. Understand? You need to go home and I’m taking you there.’
Sam wriggles hard but the Guv’s grip is too strong to make escape an easy option.
‘Guv! Honestly! I’m fine! There’s nothing wrong with me!’
They grind to a halt and the hard stare returns, brooking no argument.
‘Tyler. Just shut up and listen to me. You are going home and I’m taking you there. You need to rest. You need to go to bed. Understand?’
‘There’s really no need…’
‘I said shut up! You are going home. You are going to bed.’
‘Oh…’
Gene pauses and takes the sort of deep breath he does before he goes all shouty. But it comes out in a whisper for Sam’s ears only.
‘And I’m coming with you.’