Next Step On The Learning Curve.
Title: The Lawman Beating Up The Wrong Guy
Fandom: Life On Mars
Pairing: Sam/Gene
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Slash (ish)
Summary: Sam and Gene and an argument and a moment.
Author’s Notes: Love to drag_queen90 for beta-ing and handholding. I wrote this on my English residential cuz it clicked into my head. Yay. Teensy spoilers for a season two ep. Feedback still appreciated.
“A word, Inspector Tyler,” Gene says, jerking his head a little too hard toward the door, and Sam takes this to mean that he’s doing something Gene doesn’t approve of- nothing new there then. Ray takes over the terribly important job of snarling at their suspect, a boy who can’t be more than seventeen and who looks completely terrified.
“What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing?” Gene demands the minute they’re out of lost property. A couple of WPCs hurrying past spare them a look, but this argument is a frequent one and no one worries any more if they shout too loud and too long.
“He’s petrified,” Sam explains, gesturing towards the shut door. The kid clearly has little idea what’s going on and he shouldn’t be here at all, but Sam was powerless to stop Gene arresting him so the least that he can do is be a friendly face in the room full of cigarette smoke and increasingly sharp accusations.
“If I’d wanted a bird in there I’d’ve asked Cartwright to sit in,” Gene snaps, “And she’d probably have been less of a nonce about it.”
“There is no way Benjamin is guilty,” Sam hisses, deciding to let the insult go; Gene has made it clear, at least three times a day, that he sees Sam as emotionally no better than a girl. “You’re just looking for a scapegoat.”
“You don’t point that out in front of the suspect!” Gene tells him furiously, “People are dead, Sam, and we don’t bloody have time for you to hold the kid’s hand and read him a sodding bedtime story, understand?”
Sam is tired and too angry for this.
“Kiss my arse,” he snaps.
“Don’t tempt me,” Gene snarls back in a voice like gravel, face still twisted with badly-contained fury, but steely eyes telling a whole other story. Sam feels his stomach lurch and his mouth go dry, and reminds himself that people actually are dead and there’s a kid in danger of going down for a crime he didn’t commit, and pushing his boss against the badly-painted brick wall and seeing if he tastes like whisky all over is both unprofessional and detrimental to the case. But shit, if Gene had offered this last week…
“We are going back in that room,” Sam begins, voice trembling with nothing but anger, honestly, “And you are letting the kid go, because you have no evidence and no reason to keep him here.”
Gene’s facial expression doesn’t change a bit but his eyes harden.
“The kid doesn’t need someone to coddle him,” he tells Sam firmly.
“I know what you do when you want a quick confession,” Sam says in a low voice, teeth gritted.
“And if we let him go, are you going to take him home, wipe his nose, and tuck him into bed?” Gene demands.
“I will not let you send another teenager to prison for a crime he didn’t commit,” Sam snaps back, throwing Gene’s desperate mistake back in his face without a shred of guilt.
“You don’t want to do that,” Gene says, tone ominous, flames in his eyes. Sam tries to figure out if answering back will be worth the inevitable split lip. Maybe it isn’t. He doesn’t give Gene the dignity of a reply, though, just a look that he hopes manages to convey his frustration, before walking back into lost property without looking back.
Out of 1, 054 songs, my ipod is on shuffled and just decided to start playing "Life On Mars". Shiny.
Fandom: Life On Mars
Pairing: Sam/Gene
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Slash (ish)
Summary: Sam and Gene and an argument and a moment.
Author’s Notes: Love to drag_queen90 for beta-ing and handholding. I wrote this on my English residential cuz it clicked into my head. Yay. Teensy spoilers for a season two ep. Feedback still appreciated.
“A word, Inspector Tyler,” Gene says, jerking his head a little too hard toward the door, and Sam takes this to mean that he’s doing something Gene doesn’t approve of- nothing new there then. Ray takes over the terribly important job of snarling at their suspect, a boy who can’t be more than seventeen and who looks completely terrified.
“What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing?” Gene demands the minute they’re out of lost property. A couple of WPCs hurrying past spare them a look, but this argument is a frequent one and no one worries any more if they shout too loud and too long.
“He’s petrified,” Sam explains, gesturing towards the shut door. The kid clearly has little idea what’s going on and he shouldn’t be here at all, but Sam was powerless to stop Gene arresting him so the least that he can do is be a friendly face in the room full of cigarette smoke and increasingly sharp accusations.
“If I’d wanted a bird in there I’d’ve asked Cartwright to sit in,” Gene snaps, “And she’d probably have been less of a nonce about it.”
“There is no way Benjamin is guilty,” Sam hisses, deciding to let the insult go; Gene has made it clear, at least three times a day, that he sees Sam as emotionally no better than a girl. “You’re just looking for a scapegoat.”
“You don’t point that out in front of the suspect!” Gene tells him furiously, “People are dead, Sam, and we don’t bloody have time for you to hold the kid’s hand and read him a sodding bedtime story, understand?”
Sam is tired and too angry for this.
“Kiss my arse,” he snaps.
“Don’t tempt me,” Gene snarls back in a voice like gravel, face still twisted with badly-contained fury, but steely eyes telling a whole other story. Sam feels his stomach lurch and his mouth go dry, and reminds himself that people actually are dead and there’s a kid in danger of going down for a crime he didn’t commit, and pushing his boss against the badly-painted brick wall and seeing if he tastes like whisky all over is both unprofessional and detrimental to the case. But shit, if Gene had offered this last week…
“We are going back in that room,” Sam begins, voice trembling with nothing but anger, honestly, “And you are letting the kid go, because you have no evidence and no reason to keep him here.”
Gene’s facial expression doesn’t change a bit but his eyes harden.
“The kid doesn’t need someone to coddle him,” he tells Sam firmly.
“I know what you do when you want a quick confession,” Sam says in a low voice, teeth gritted.
“And if we let him go, are you going to take him home, wipe his nose, and tuck him into bed?” Gene demands.
“I will not let you send another teenager to prison for a crime he didn’t commit,” Sam snaps back, throwing Gene’s desperate mistake back in his face without a shred of guilt.
“You don’t want to do that,” Gene says, tone ominous, flames in his eyes. Sam tries to figure out if answering back will be worth the inevitable split lip. Maybe it isn’t. He doesn’t give Gene the dignity of a reply, though, just a look that he hopes manages to convey his frustration, before walking back into lost property without looking back.
Out of 1, 054 songs, my ipod is on shuffled and just decided to start playing "Life On Mars". Shiny.