Fic: Intergrating patterns (WTS 'verse)
Title: Intergrating patterns.
Author: Me...lol
Spoilers: It's set after 1981.
Rating: White Cortina
Word Count: 586
Pairings: Gene/Sam (Another pairing but I don't wanna spoil it for everyone,lol)
Summary: Gene's in his own personal hell.
A/N: More crack, couldn't resist. *Hangs head*
Set in between....
Truth be told Green Cortina (Gene/Sam & Annie/Sam)
Shake me, Break me Brown Cortina (Gene/Sam)
Love hurts Green Cortina (Annie/Sam & Gene/Sam)
Dreamers never lie Green cortina (Sam/Gene)
Stand and deliver Green Cortina (Gene/Sam)
Squeeze me, pleaze me Green/Blue Cortina (Gene/Sam)
Homeward Bound Brown/Red Cortina (Gene/Sam)
Bloody hell. It's a Saturday, he shouldn't have to be stuck in some god awful supermarket staring at swatches of colour, with Sam going on about shadin' and intergratin' patterns. Gene's in his own personal hell.
He should be in the pub, with the lads, watching the footie and gettin' steadily more pissed as the afternoon passes. Instead Sam's managed to cajole him into curtain shopping. Curtains for Christ sake!
Sometimes Gene wonders exactly what he did to deserve a picky, analy retentive, OCD suffering man-whore as a partner. Other days he thanks his lucky stars the man-whore hasn't come to his senses and figured out he's an ageing dinosaur with a flabby tum and rapidly thinning hair.
This'd be one of the former.
If he has to pretend to be interested in one more hideous piece of material, he's gonna top himself right here in amongst the nets. He's gonna pull his gun out and actually blow his brains to smithereens. He's got the headache to end all headaches and the sound of women twittering on about complimenting colours is beginning to make his teeth itch.
The things you do for a decent shag!
Doesn't help that Sam's wearing his tightest pair of jeans. Everytime he bends or stretches to pick up another god awful piece of cloth, Gene's cock jumps to attention. All he really wants to do is rag him into the wall, instead he's got to nod as if he gives a shit and make enough noise for Sam to think he's still awake.
The only thing that'd make this experience any more humiliating would be if someone from work showed their face. He'd die. Not only would he have to explain exactly why he's watching Sam paw through oddments bins but he'd never live it down. Gene Hunt does not shop for upholstery.
He's just finished shuddering at the thought when he hears a familiar drawl. Smells a familiar aftershave.
Shit.
Not ten feet away is Ray Carling, swearing under his breath and shuffling his feet. He's looking as lost as Gene feels and hasn't noticed the pair of them yet.
Gene searches frantically for somewhere to hide, he's seriously considering diving in one of the bins when another voice filters through, making him stand stock still.
"Come on Ray, s'not like I'm askin' you to commit to marriage, just wanna know what colour you think'd go best in the kitchen is all"
"Chris, I couldn't care less if you left the windows in the kitchen completely bare and let the neighbours watch me shaggin' you into the sink, just pick a soddin' pair of curtains so I can get down the pub"
"If you're gonna make me drive up from London every weekend, then I am not staring at those shitty black things you've got hangin' in your kitchen"
"Just pick a pair of bloody curtains 'for I decide to change the locks"
"Rayyyy"
"Fine, them ones"
"But that's blue, you can't have blue in a kitchen, makes it feel cold"
"ARGH!"
"Right, right, blue it is"
As they wander towards the checkout, Gene can't help the bubble of laughter forcing its way up his throat. Well that explains an awful lot.
He's brought back to himself by Sam tugging on his sleeve and pointing to another piece of truly disastrous material. Sam has absolutely no taste.
"Beautiful"
"Really?"
"Yea"
Sam leans up and plants a sloppy kiss on Gene's cheek.
Perhaps this shoppin' lark ain't so bad after all.
Who's to say White Cortina (Gene/Sam)
Author: Me...lol
Spoilers: It's set after 1981.
Rating: White Cortina
Word Count: 586
Pairings: Gene/Sam (Another pairing but I don't wanna spoil it for everyone,lol)
Summary: Gene's in his own personal hell.
A/N: More crack, couldn't resist. *Hangs head*
Set in between....
Truth be told Green Cortina (Gene/Sam & Annie/Sam)
Shake me, Break me Brown Cortina (Gene/Sam)
Love hurts Green Cortina (Annie/Sam & Gene/Sam)
Dreamers never lie Green cortina (Sam/Gene)
Stand and deliver Green Cortina (Gene/Sam)
Squeeze me, pleaze me Green/Blue Cortina (Gene/Sam)
Homeward Bound Brown/Red Cortina (Gene/Sam)
Bloody hell. It's a Saturday, he shouldn't have to be stuck in some god awful supermarket staring at swatches of colour, with Sam going on about shadin' and intergratin' patterns. Gene's in his own personal hell.
He should be in the pub, with the lads, watching the footie and gettin' steadily more pissed as the afternoon passes. Instead Sam's managed to cajole him into curtain shopping. Curtains for Christ sake!
Sometimes Gene wonders exactly what he did to deserve a picky, analy retentive, OCD suffering man-whore as a partner. Other days he thanks his lucky stars the man-whore hasn't come to his senses and figured out he's an ageing dinosaur with a flabby tum and rapidly thinning hair.
This'd be one of the former.
If he has to pretend to be interested in one more hideous piece of material, he's gonna top himself right here in amongst the nets. He's gonna pull his gun out and actually blow his brains to smithereens. He's got the headache to end all headaches and the sound of women twittering on about complimenting colours is beginning to make his teeth itch.
The things you do for a decent shag!
Doesn't help that Sam's wearing his tightest pair of jeans. Everytime he bends or stretches to pick up another god awful piece of cloth, Gene's cock jumps to attention. All he really wants to do is rag him into the wall, instead he's got to nod as if he gives a shit and make enough noise for Sam to think he's still awake.
The only thing that'd make this experience any more humiliating would be if someone from work showed their face. He'd die. Not only would he have to explain exactly why he's watching Sam paw through oddments bins but he'd never live it down. Gene Hunt does not shop for upholstery.
He's just finished shuddering at the thought when he hears a familiar drawl. Smells a familiar aftershave.
Shit.
Not ten feet away is Ray Carling, swearing under his breath and shuffling his feet. He's looking as lost as Gene feels and hasn't noticed the pair of them yet.
Gene searches frantically for somewhere to hide, he's seriously considering diving in one of the bins when another voice filters through, making him stand stock still.
"Come on Ray, s'not like I'm askin' you to commit to marriage, just wanna know what colour you think'd go best in the kitchen is all"
"Chris, I couldn't care less if you left the windows in the kitchen completely bare and let the neighbours watch me shaggin' you into the sink, just pick a soddin' pair of curtains so I can get down the pub"
"If you're gonna make me drive up from London every weekend, then I am not staring at those shitty black things you've got hangin' in your kitchen"
"Just pick a pair of bloody curtains 'for I decide to change the locks"
"Rayyyy"
"Fine, them ones"
"But that's blue, you can't have blue in a kitchen, makes it feel cold"
"ARGH!"
"Right, right, blue it is"
As they wander towards the checkout, Gene can't help the bubble of laughter forcing its way up his throat. Well that explains an awful lot.
He's brought back to himself by Sam tugging on his sleeve and pointing to another piece of truly disastrous material. Sam has absolutely no taste.
"Beautiful"
"Really?"
"Yea"
Sam leans up and plants a sloppy kiss on Gene's cheek.
Perhaps this shoppin' lark ain't so bad after all.
Who's to say White Cortina (Gene/Sam)