"Taking Care of Business" for talkingtothesky
Title: Taking Care of Business
Author: mapanda
Recipient: talkingtothesky
Rating: White/Green Cortina
Word Count: 737
Notes: The request was “Sam/Gene, Hurt/Comfort if possible.” With the line “Why me?” I hope I was able to give you what you wanted. Happy Holidays to one and all!
“Hello, Sam.”
The Test Card Girl was sitting on top of his television, when Sam opened his eyes, “What are you doing here?”
She smiled, her teeth shining through the darkness of the flat, “I’m not allowed to visit my friend Sam?”
“I’m not your friend.”
“Oh, Sam,” she shook her head, “I’m your only friend. You know that.”
Sam quickly stood from the bed and pointed an accusing finger at her, “That’s not true. Stop saying that. I have Maya and the others in 2006…”
“Maya left you and the others have never been to visit you. They aren’t here for you,” she countered, the grin still on her face proclaiming her victory.
“How can they be?” he scoffed, “People don’t normally travel in time.”
“You did. Now you are here, with me.”
“No!” Sam yelled, “I am here alone. In the morning, I’ll be here with Gene and Annie and Chris and even Ray, but not you. You are leaving and never coming back. Go!”
The gleeful look on the Test Card Girl’s face became cruel, and to Sam’s eyes, inhuman, “I thought you said no one here was real. I’m all you’ve got and I’m not going anywhere.”
Sam growled in frustration and flung himself at his constant tormenter.
~*~*~
Tyler was late again. After waiting for nearly an hour, Gene stood and grabbed his coat, heading for the door.
Chris looked up as Gene walked past the young DC’s desk, “Guv?”
Gene never slowed down, “I’m tired of waiting for Tyler’s pansy arse. I’m going after ‘im.”
As he drove away from the station Gene thought to himself, ‘If Sam’s cuffed to his bed again I’m taking pictures and putting them in Cartwright’s desk. Keeping the best for meself, of course.’
~*~*~
At Sam’s request, Gene knocked on the door.
Then he kicked it in.
Whatever snappy thing Gene had planned to say was long forgotten when he walked into the apartment and the only thing he could think or say was, “Bloody hell!” which was actually a very good description of what he saw.
The bottom of the camp had collapsed and was left hanging at an angle. The table was flipped over and halfway across the room. There were holes in the walls and blood streaked across that god-awful wallpaper. Broken dishes littered the floor. The ashtray that Gene had brought over to use when he spent the night was in pieces, cigarette butts that had never been thrown away were strewn about and the ash would probably never completely come out of the carpet.
Curled in the corner, still in the undershirt and pants that he had slept in, was Sam, bleeding from numerous cuts and gashes all over his skin. His arms were in the worst shape.
“Christ, Tyler! What the hell happened here?” Gene exclaimed, but Sam did not even turn to look at him. His gaze was fixed on one point. Gene turned to look at what had Sam’s attention.
It was the television. On its side, on the floor, the screen was busted and the wires had been pulled out. The broken glass appeared to be the source of most of Sam’s wounds.
“Sam, talk to me,” Gene continued, kneeling down next to the other man.
Sam shook his head slowly, before finally turning to look up at his Guv, “Why me, Gene? Why me?”
Gene was confused, but that wasn’t anything new for him when it came to Sam Tyler, “What are you on about? Why you what? What did you do?”
Then Sam smiled this huge half crazy grin, “I closed the door in her face. Now she can’t come in.”
Still confused, but willing to let the matter go for now, Gene nodded, “Let’s get you cleaned up,” he pulled Sam to his feet and pushed him toward the bathroom, trying to avoid most of destruction, “Watch your feet.”
Gene sat Sam down on the toilet seat and began cleaning and bandaging the bloody gashes. Sam was quiet through the entire ordeal. When Sam was all cleaned up, Gene got him dressed and ready to leave, “Work now, yeah? Catch us some baddies.”
Sam nodded, “Yeah.”
Before they walked out the door Gene grabbed Sam and pressed a hard kiss on the shorter man’s forehead. Nothing was alright, but it would have to wait for now. Their city needed taking care of just as much as Sam did.
Author: mapanda
Recipient: talkingtothesky
Rating: White/Green Cortina
Word Count: 737
Notes: The request was “Sam/Gene, Hurt/Comfort if possible.” With the line “Why me?” I hope I was able to give you what you wanted. Happy Holidays to one and all!
“Hello, Sam.”
The Test Card Girl was sitting on top of his television, when Sam opened his eyes, “What are you doing here?”
She smiled, her teeth shining through the darkness of the flat, “I’m not allowed to visit my friend Sam?”
“I’m not your friend.”
“Oh, Sam,” she shook her head, “I’m your only friend. You know that.”
Sam quickly stood from the bed and pointed an accusing finger at her, “That’s not true. Stop saying that. I have Maya and the others in 2006…”
“Maya left you and the others have never been to visit you. They aren’t here for you,” she countered, the grin still on her face proclaiming her victory.
“How can they be?” he scoffed, “People don’t normally travel in time.”
“You did. Now you are here, with me.”
“No!” Sam yelled, “I am here alone. In the morning, I’ll be here with Gene and Annie and Chris and even Ray, but not you. You are leaving and never coming back. Go!”
The gleeful look on the Test Card Girl’s face became cruel, and to Sam’s eyes, inhuman, “I thought you said no one here was real. I’m all you’ve got and I’m not going anywhere.”
Sam growled in frustration and flung himself at his constant tormenter.
~*~*~
Tyler was late again. After waiting for nearly an hour, Gene stood and grabbed his coat, heading for the door.
Chris looked up as Gene walked past the young DC’s desk, “Guv?”
Gene never slowed down, “I’m tired of waiting for Tyler’s pansy arse. I’m going after ‘im.”
As he drove away from the station Gene thought to himself, ‘If Sam’s cuffed to his bed again I’m taking pictures and putting them in Cartwright’s desk. Keeping the best for meself, of course.’
~*~*~
At Sam’s request, Gene knocked on the door.
Then he kicked it in.
Whatever snappy thing Gene had planned to say was long forgotten when he walked into the apartment and the only thing he could think or say was, “Bloody hell!” which was actually a very good description of what he saw.
The bottom of the camp had collapsed and was left hanging at an angle. The table was flipped over and halfway across the room. There were holes in the walls and blood streaked across that god-awful wallpaper. Broken dishes littered the floor. The ashtray that Gene had brought over to use when he spent the night was in pieces, cigarette butts that had never been thrown away were strewn about and the ash would probably never completely come out of the carpet.
Curled in the corner, still in the undershirt and pants that he had slept in, was Sam, bleeding from numerous cuts and gashes all over his skin. His arms were in the worst shape.
“Christ, Tyler! What the hell happened here?” Gene exclaimed, but Sam did not even turn to look at him. His gaze was fixed on one point. Gene turned to look at what had Sam’s attention.
It was the television. On its side, on the floor, the screen was busted and the wires had been pulled out. The broken glass appeared to be the source of most of Sam’s wounds.
“Sam, talk to me,” Gene continued, kneeling down next to the other man.
Sam shook his head slowly, before finally turning to look up at his Guv, “Why me, Gene? Why me?”
Gene was confused, but that wasn’t anything new for him when it came to Sam Tyler, “What are you on about? Why you what? What did you do?”
Then Sam smiled this huge half crazy grin, “I closed the door in her face. Now she can’t come in.”
Still confused, but willing to let the matter go for now, Gene nodded, “Let’s get you cleaned up,” he pulled Sam to his feet and pushed him toward the bathroom, trying to avoid most of destruction, “Watch your feet.”
Gene sat Sam down on the toilet seat and began cleaning and bandaging the bloody gashes. Sam was quiet through the entire ordeal. When Sam was all cleaned up, Gene got him dressed and ready to leave, “Work now, yeah? Catch us some baddies.”
Sam nodded, “Yeah.”
Before they walked out the door Gene grabbed Sam and pressed a hard kiss on the shorter man’s forehead. Nothing was alright, but it would have to wait for now. Their city needed taking care of just as much as Sam did.