The New Guy - Part Three (End!)
Title: The New Guy, Part Three
Author: mikes_grrl
Rating: Brown Cortina (NC-17)
Warnings: Hmmm, I don’t think there are any spoilers, but I suppose by default it is post 2.08.
Disclaimer: All owned by Kudos, kudos to them. I’m just having fun.
Word Count: 8,000 (in three parts, part three: 2,800)
Summary: Beauty arrives in the form of one DC Ryan Miller. Now who’s jealous?
NOTES for Part Three: This actually went in a direction I did not expect. Just...didn't. Hard to explain, but hopefully everyone will not kill me like it. Here you see some of my confusion about CID/RCS and I hopae nothing I wrote here is wildly off mark. Please BritPick and let me know what I got wrong, as I am sure I did.
This was started in answer to a plot bunny from the fiandyfic's Anonymous Porn Fest (‘An absolutely bloody gorgeous cop arrives at A Division. He wants DI Tyler big time and Sam seems like he might be interested too. Gene's wanted Sam for ages but never dared make a move. So what does he do now?’).
Background (link goes to my LJ):
Part One
Part Two
The New Guy, Part Three
Gene’s only comment to Sam for the entire day was “No.” He sat at his desk and tore the transfer request up into about one thousands pieces and scattered them around the floor to be walked on. Gene humoring his inner drama queen, Sam sighed to himself, but did not make any visible reaction to Gene other than nod curtly and walk out of the office. He did not understand why Gene was being childish about this, much less why Gene would refuse the transfer. He did not want Sam around, but he was not going to allow him to leave, so Sam was left with putting up with this crap or just resigning. He could not imagine Gene being that petty, but the more he thought about it, the more despondent he became, because this was a classic lose-lose scenario. Not that Sam expected a win by this time anyway.
As the day ended, Gene stopped by his desk.
“Goin’ to the pub?”
Sam stared at him in amazement, wondering if Gene’s impudence knew no bounds. “Like ‘ell. I’m goin’ home. I know where I’m not wanted, even if you don’t.” Sam was not certain that made sense but it felt right so he crossed his arms and glared at Gene as if he was the DCI in room, and Gene just a plod to be scraped off his shoe. Gene glared back and nodded and walked off. Sam continued to sit, glaring at the empty space left behind.
---------------
Gene stood by the door for a good five minutes before he knocked. He heard Sam puttering about, making tea by the sound of it. He knew that Miller was not there; something about what happened to Annie cooled the heels of those two, and while it did not exactly inspire hope it at least put Gene’s mind at ease standing outside the door. Sam was probably teaching the boy a lesson, using that pout and that arctic exterior to shut him out for a while. Sam - Tyler - was very, very good at shutting people out.
He stood with his forehead against the door frame, listening, wondering about Miller, and trying to figure out how to handle what he needed to do. He finally came to the conclusion that the best way to approach that particular subject matter was to avoid it. If Sam - Tyler - wanted to screw Miller blind then that was his business, and not Gene’s, and the only thing that mattered was how he and Sam - Tyler - could save whole situation with the rest of the team. No point in blaming Tyler for thinking with his dick, when it was not too far off from what Gene did himself. The very thought brought up the image of Sam spread out in front of him, Gene’s cock sliding over that clean, pale skin…
He debated leaving and facing this in the morning with a strong hangover to help dull everything to a limp dick, unconvinced of his own ability to stick to the topic that brought him to Tyler’s flat to begin with. Finally he persuaded himself that as long as they kept to the subject matter of CID, of the team, Gene could pull this off without breaking up the furniture or Tyler. Gene was here to save CID and set deeds to rights, and as he focused on that, he straightened up and squared his shoulders and knocked.
---------------
When the knock on the door to his flat arrived about an hour later, Sam was not surprised. Gene scoped him out for a reason, and it was pretty obvious in retrospect. Sam opened the door and then turned to walk to the other side of the room, out of arms reach as Gene closed the door behind him.
“Time we talked.” Gene stood in front of the door, leaning against it, and in fact Gene was the door. Sam was not escaping unless he bailed through a window. He turned slowly to look at Gene, figuring this was it, the ‘Matter of Miller’ was going to be resolved here and now. Sam did not look forward to it but it needed to be done, or he was never going to be out of Gene’s crosshairs - he just hoped to get out of those crosshairs with minimal blood loss. He folded his arms and faced Gene, because he was not going to play it meek or guilty when Gene was the one thinking with his dick for the past month.
“Our boy’s tricky. He’s angling for your job an’ he’s playing Chris an’ Annie. The whole team is screwed up and I don’ like it.”
Surprised, Sam’s arms dropped. “Uh…yeah.” That was the sum total of his intelligent response. At Gene’s look of displeasure, Sam rallied, following his lead and glad to steer clear of murkier waters. “I think he’s actually shooting for your job. I’m just a steppin’ stone.”
Gene nodded. “Ambitious. Admire that, but he’s workin’ it too hard, like he’s got something to prove.” Gene peeled off the door and shrugged his jacket onto his chair, as if this was a normal night from the pub and they were talking shop like they always did.
Surprised and relieved to be having this conversation at last, Sam followed his lead and went to pour them both a drink. “All boys do. I did.”
“Not ‘im. He’s got it all in spades: looks, smarts, background. Maybe not money, but not poor either. All he ‘as to do is show up and he’ll be superintendent by forty.”
Sam handed Gene his drink then stopped in the middle of the room, thinking. That was it, that was exactly the problem, and he kicked himself for not realizing it sooner.
“Posin’ for a picture?” Gene sneered and Sam shook himself.
“That’s it. He’s used to everything being handed to him, he’s used to people falling down in front him and being treated like a prince…”
“Yeah, rough life, poor sod. Should buy ‘im a sympathy card.” Gene did not try to hide his bitterness, and Sam gave him a studious look. Jealous, alright, but of more than just looks or another man.
“Y’don’t get it. Someone like that…they don’ know if they are worth anything. They never ‘ave to prove it, they feel like…an actor, or a charlatan. They live in fear that someone will see behind the mask and realize they are all looks and no substance.”
“I’m sure you got a point here,” Gene said, not sounding like he was sure of that fact at all, tilting his head with a critical expression.
“He gets other people to do his work for ‘im so no one sees that he can’t do it himself. He skips out of the hard work because he doesn’t want to reveal himself as a fake. He’s playin’….he’s working the politics tryin’ to stay ahead of the game before he gets ‘discovered.’ He’s not lazy…he’s scared.”
“That point yer getting’ at, would it be somewhere in the room?”
Sam clucked in impatience. “We’re not bein’ hard enough on him. We need to shut him out. Completely.”
“Love to. Why didn’t you say so sooner?” Gene smiled wickedly and raised his glass, and Sam faltered, realizing that Gene meant it. Which made no sense, not if Gene really wanted the boy, and Sam forced himself back to the subject as his mind - and other body parts - began to reel out of control on useless speculations.
“Not like that. I mean, we got to make him crawl…”
“…bet you’d love that…”
Sam stared at Gene. It was said in nearly a whisper into Gene’s glass, his eyes looking off to the side, and Gene was close to squirming. Sam suspected who, exactly, Gene was jealous of, and he made up his mind, right then, and damn the consequences.
“No, not my type. Never touched him. I’m just waiting on you.” He slammed his drink and then walked over to the sink area, turning his back on Gene, his bravado cracking almost as soon at it surfaced. He heard Gene stand up and walk over, and Sam closed his eyes, bracing for the kidney punch or the head slap but instead he felt Gene pushing into his back, a solid wall of Gene behind him. He breathed out, keeping his eyes closed, hoping it was a spell he did not have the power to break, and then felt Gene’s lips on his neck. He was not sucking or biting or even kissing all that much, just pressing his lips, wetting skin down and moving his mouth over Sam’s neck, as if tasting something sweet. Gene wrapped his arms around him, one arm fully, pulling him closer, while the other roamed over his chest in seductive, leisurely strokes.
“Could fuck you up against the counter here…bring you off while I ride you, squeezing your cock dry…” Gene spoke in a breathless, heavy whisper as his body pushed against him with a small hint of rhythm. “…feeling how hot and tight yer arse is, strangling my dick, you clawin’ your way up the fuckin’ walls…”
Sam groaned, just outright groaned and pressed backwards, his hands pushing against the countertop. He felt Gene’s erection against him and he could barely breath for the pressure of his own hard-on inside of his pants.
“…you thought about fuckin’ me, Tyler? Thought about shoving your cock into me? Pounding me down into the mattress? You dream of that, you filthy bugger? I ‘ave…fuckin’ cum all over the bed thinkin’ of you stickin’ your hot dick deep inside, reaming me arse until you explode…” Gene’s roaming hand dropped below Sam’s waist and plowed into his erection, and Sam started bucking. His hips were thrusting backwards into Gene, who let out his own groan at the sensation.
“God….oh fuck, Gene, I’m gonna come…”
“Do it, do it, come for me, shake it out…let me see what I’m in for, what I’m goin’ to get when I ream you up the arse and into the floor…” Gene was panting, rubbing Sam off through his pants and pumping his own hips now as Sam started to come undone against him. Sam tried to curl forward but Gene’s other arm held him tight around his chest and his vision went black from lack of air. Just then, in that moment, Sam’s world shattered in Gene’s grasp and he came, throwing himself backwards, up and into Gene, yelling out his name. As he gasped for air, his mind puzzling what just happened, Gene walked backwards, dragging Sam with him until Gene sat on the edge of the cot, out of breath, with Sam on his lap.
Sam laughed and Gene froze, his hands on Sam’s chest, his face pressed into his back, but before Sam asked what was wrong Gene pulled him to the side, pushing him face up on the cot. Sam tucked his legs in so he was lying down with Gene sitting next to him, staring at him.
“What?” Sam smiled at the slightly confused look on Gene’s face.
“All this time?” Gene rubbed one hand over Sam’s shoulder and along his neck. Sam reached up and ran his fingers down Gene’s chest, then back up to start unbuttoning his shirt.
“Yeah.”
“Thought you an’ Miller were on.”
“Thought you wanted me out of the way.”
“Stupid git.”
“Yeah, you are,” Sam said, smiling even brighter as he worked at the shirt. He stopped at the stunned expression on Gene’s face.
Gene fell on top of him and kissed him, passionately grasping at Sam with his mouth. Taken of guard, Sam stalled for a moment, then wrapped Gene into him and kissed back until they were both gasping. Gene stopped and laid his face next to Sam’s.
“Gene?”
“Shut it, Tyler, I’m basking in the moment.”
Sam sputtered, trying not to laugh. Gene sat back up and took off his shirt, looking naughty and aroused, then stood up to take off his pants. Sam followed suit, stripping off his clothes, glad to be free of the dirty underwear.
As Gene finished undressing and sat back down, he gave Sam a critical look. “You done it, Sam?”
“Giving or receiving?”
Gene shrugged.
“Yeah. You?”
Gene nodded, and ran a hand down Sam’s thigh. “Not since before the wife.”
“Really?”
“Surprise you, that a man can keep to his wedding vows?” Gene’s eyes narrowed. Sam realized this was some sort of test, and saying ‘yes, shocked I am to know that you don’t fuck around’ was the wrong response. He debated the meaning, even though from the look on Gene’s face it was pretty clear.
“So that’s how it is, then?”
“Yeah. Take it or leave it.” Gene set his hands on his knees and looked at the wall, fatalistic, and Sam tried not to laugh at him again.
“Hunh. Well, got no other plans…”
Gene pulled him onto his side and slapped him on his arse. “Cheeky bugger.”
Sam pushed off and laid back down, petting his soft, re-emergent erection. "What's yours is yours, Gene. What you goin' to do about it?"
Gene pursed his lips. "I suppose got no choice but to ream you up the arse to make you see reason."
"No choice at all."
--------------
A united front walked into CID the next day, and Gene leaned against Ray’s desk in tacit approval while Sam raked Miller over the coals for ineptitude, irresponsibility, and laziness. Chris’ head nearly snapped off his neck looking between Gene, Sam, and Miller in shock. In fact the shock waves reverberated off the walls as Sam wrapped up his harangue and Gene walked casually into his office, leaving the door wide open for the first time in weeks. Sam proceeded to throw away all the reports on Miller’s desk, most of which were written and typed up by Chris or Annie, and pulled up a chair to watch him as if he were a child while he typed up everything on his own. He nit picked every detail and returned every folder that had even one piece of paper out of place and by the end of the day Miller was red faced, angry, and confused. On his way out that night, Gene studied the flustered kid and then made a joke with Ray about Miller choking on ‘his mama’s knickers.’ Miller wilted in humiliation as everyone left him behind for the pub.
Sam, though, was outright ruthless the next day, and the day after that, and finally later that week Miller arranged a closed door meeting with Hunt to complain about Tyler’s treatment of him, which he considered extreme and unfair. Hunt walked up, threw him up against the filing cabinet and yelled at him for being a spineless cunt, then dragged him out the door and shut it. This left him standing with his figurative dick in his hand and no one to turn to but Sam, who let him know his work was substandard and his attitude unacceptable. He shoved Miller into paperwork for weeks, indirectly letting everyone else on the team know he was in the shit house. Gene and Sam were finally working as a team again and as their treatment of the boy became tough and unforgiving, the entire team fell into line and refused to cut the charmer any slack.
When DC Miller asked for a transfer the following month, it was refused. When DC Miller walked off the scene of a murder investigation, irate over his treatment and bungling evidence in the process, Gene and Ray threw him into the boot of the Cortina, which Sam closed on him. When he asked anyone to try and cover for him, or do his paperwork for him, or do anything for him, it was duly reported back to his superiors and he always, always paid in blood, sweat, and tears.
When DC Miller proved instrumental in solving a major investigation two years after he first came into CID, working nearly three weeks without sleep assisting DS Skelton to lock up an airtight case against the suspect, who was eventually sent up for life based on the evidence they provided, DI Tyler put him in for promotion to sergeant and DCI Hunt signed off on it.
When DS Miller asked DCI Tyler for a transfer to RCS two years after that, it was granted.
When DS Miller put in for DI, he confided to Sam his plan on ousting Litton and taking over RCS himself and remaking the department into an efficient, hardworking unit. Both Tyler and Hunt wrote letters of recommendation.
When DI Miller finally made DCI and was given RCS for his own, he sent letters of gratitude to the men who put him in for the promotion, DSupt. Hunt and DCI Tyler. He also sent an expensive bottle of single malt to their home, which they refused to open until he joined them and the rest of ‘the old crew’ for a private celebratory dinner. Later that night after everyone cleared out and Sam collapsed on the couch next to Gene, they agreed that having the new guy come between them was the best damn thing that ever happened for all involved.
####
Author: mikes_grrl
Rating: Brown Cortina (NC-17)
Warnings: Hmmm, I don’t think there are any spoilers, but I suppose by default it is post 2.08.
Disclaimer: All owned by Kudos, kudos to them. I’m just having fun.
Word Count: 8,000 (in three parts, part three: 2,800)
Summary: Beauty arrives in the form of one DC Ryan Miller. Now who’s jealous?
NOTES for Part Three: This actually went in a direction I did not expect. Just...didn't. Hard to explain, but hopefully everyone will not kill me like it. Here you see some of my confusion about CID/RCS and I hopae nothing I wrote here is wildly off mark. Please BritPick and let me know what I got wrong, as I am sure I did.
This was started in answer to a plot bunny from the fiandyfic's Anonymous Porn Fest (‘An absolutely bloody gorgeous cop arrives at A Division. He wants DI Tyler big time and Sam seems like he might be interested too. Gene's wanted Sam for ages but never dared make a move. So what does he do now?’).
Background (link goes to my LJ):
Part One
Part Two
The New Guy, Part Three
Gene’s only comment to Sam for the entire day was “No.” He sat at his desk and tore the transfer request up into about one thousands pieces and scattered them around the floor to be walked on. Gene humoring his inner drama queen, Sam sighed to himself, but did not make any visible reaction to Gene other than nod curtly and walk out of the office. He did not understand why Gene was being childish about this, much less why Gene would refuse the transfer. He did not want Sam around, but he was not going to allow him to leave, so Sam was left with putting up with this crap or just resigning. He could not imagine Gene being that petty, but the more he thought about it, the more despondent he became, because this was a classic lose-lose scenario. Not that Sam expected a win by this time anyway.
As the day ended, Gene stopped by his desk.
“Goin’ to the pub?”
Sam stared at him in amazement, wondering if Gene’s impudence knew no bounds. “Like ‘ell. I’m goin’ home. I know where I’m not wanted, even if you don’t.” Sam was not certain that made sense but it felt right so he crossed his arms and glared at Gene as if he was the DCI in room, and Gene just a plod to be scraped off his shoe. Gene glared back and nodded and walked off. Sam continued to sit, glaring at the empty space left behind.
---------------
Gene stood by the door for a good five minutes before he knocked. He heard Sam puttering about, making tea by the sound of it. He knew that Miller was not there; something about what happened to Annie cooled the heels of those two, and while it did not exactly inspire hope it at least put Gene’s mind at ease standing outside the door. Sam was probably teaching the boy a lesson, using that pout and that arctic exterior to shut him out for a while. Sam - Tyler - was very, very good at shutting people out.
He stood with his forehead against the door frame, listening, wondering about Miller, and trying to figure out how to handle what he needed to do. He finally came to the conclusion that the best way to approach that particular subject matter was to avoid it. If Sam - Tyler - wanted to screw Miller blind then that was his business, and not Gene’s, and the only thing that mattered was how he and Sam - Tyler - could save whole situation with the rest of the team. No point in blaming Tyler for thinking with his dick, when it was not too far off from what Gene did himself. The very thought brought up the image of Sam spread out in front of him, Gene’s cock sliding over that clean, pale skin…
He debated leaving and facing this in the morning with a strong hangover to help dull everything to a limp dick, unconvinced of his own ability to stick to the topic that brought him to Tyler’s flat to begin with. Finally he persuaded himself that as long as they kept to the subject matter of CID, of the team, Gene could pull this off without breaking up the furniture or Tyler. Gene was here to save CID and set deeds to rights, and as he focused on that, he straightened up and squared his shoulders and knocked.
---------------
When the knock on the door to his flat arrived about an hour later, Sam was not surprised. Gene scoped him out for a reason, and it was pretty obvious in retrospect. Sam opened the door and then turned to walk to the other side of the room, out of arms reach as Gene closed the door behind him.
“Time we talked.” Gene stood in front of the door, leaning against it, and in fact Gene was the door. Sam was not escaping unless he bailed through a window. He turned slowly to look at Gene, figuring this was it, the ‘Matter of Miller’ was going to be resolved here and now. Sam did not look forward to it but it needed to be done, or he was never going to be out of Gene’s crosshairs - he just hoped to get out of those crosshairs with minimal blood loss. He folded his arms and faced Gene, because he was not going to play it meek or guilty when Gene was the one thinking with his dick for the past month.
“Our boy’s tricky. He’s angling for your job an’ he’s playing Chris an’ Annie. The whole team is screwed up and I don’ like it.”
Surprised, Sam’s arms dropped. “Uh…yeah.” That was the sum total of his intelligent response. At Gene’s look of displeasure, Sam rallied, following his lead and glad to steer clear of murkier waters. “I think he’s actually shooting for your job. I’m just a steppin’ stone.”
Gene nodded. “Ambitious. Admire that, but he’s workin’ it too hard, like he’s got something to prove.” Gene peeled off the door and shrugged his jacket onto his chair, as if this was a normal night from the pub and they were talking shop like they always did.
Surprised and relieved to be having this conversation at last, Sam followed his lead and went to pour them both a drink. “All boys do. I did.”
“Not ‘im. He’s got it all in spades: looks, smarts, background. Maybe not money, but not poor either. All he ‘as to do is show up and he’ll be superintendent by forty.”
Sam handed Gene his drink then stopped in the middle of the room, thinking. That was it, that was exactly the problem, and he kicked himself for not realizing it sooner.
“Posin’ for a picture?” Gene sneered and Sam shook himself.
“That’s it. He’s used to everything being handed to him, he’s used to people falling down in front him and being treated like a prince…”
“Yeah, rough life, poor sod. Should buy ‘im a sympathy card.” Gene did not try to hide his bitterness, and Sam gave him a studious look. Jealous, alright, but of more than just looks or another man.
“Y’don’t get it. Someone like that…they don’ know if they are worth anything. They never ‘ave to prove it, they feel like…an actor, or a charlatan. They live in fear that someone will see behind the mask and realize they are all looks and no substance.”
“I’m sure you got a point here,” Gene said, not sounding like he was sure of that fact at all, tilting his head with a critical expression.
“He gets other people to do his work for ‘im so no one sees that he can’t do it himself. He skips out of the hard work because he doesn’t want to reveal himself as a fake. He’s playin’….he’s working the politics tryin’ to stay ahead of the game before he gets ‘discovered.’ He’s not lazy…he’s scared.”
“That point yer getting’ at, would it be somewhere in the room?”
Sam clucked in impatience. “We’re not bein’ hard enough on him. We need to shut him out. Completely.”
“Love to. Why didn’t you say so sooner?” Gene smiled wickedly and raised his glass, and Sam faltered, realizing that Gene meant it. Which made no sense, not if Gene really wanted the boy, and Sam forced himself back to the subject as his mind - and other body parts - began to reel out of control on useless speculations.
“Not like that. I mean, we got to make him crawl…”
“…bet you’d love that…”
Sam stared at Gene. It was said in nearly a whisper into Gene’s glass, his eyes looking off to the side, and Gene was close to squirming. Sam suspected who, exactly, Gene was jealous of, and he made up his mind, right then, and damn the consequences.
“No, not my type. Never touched him. I’m just waiting on you.” He slammed his drink and then walked over to the sink area, turning his back on Gene, his bravado cracking almost as soon at it surfaced. He heard Gene stand up and walk over, and Sam closed his eyes, bracing for the kidney punch or the head slap but instead he felt Gene pushing into his back, a solid wall of Gene behind him. He breathed out, keeping his eyes closed, hoping it was a spell he did not have the power to break, and then felt Gene’s lips on his neck. He was not sucking or biting or even kissing all that much, just pressing his lips, wetting skin down and moving his mouth over Sam’s neck, as if tasting something sweet. Gene wrapped his arms around him, one arm fully, pulling him closer, while the other roamed over his chest in seductive, leisurely strokes.
“Could fuck you up against the counter here…bring you off while I ride you, squeezing your cock dry…” Gene spoke in a breathless, heavy whisper as his body pushed against him with a small hint of rhythm. “…feeling how hot and tight yer arse is, strangling my dick, you clawin’ your way up the fuckin’ walls…”
Sam groaned, just outright groaned and pressed backwards, his hands pushing against the countertop. He felt Gene’s erection against him and he could barely breath for the pressure of his own hard-on inside of his pants.
“…you thought about fuckin’ me, Tyler? Thought about shoving your cock into me? Pounding me down into the mattress? You dream of that, you filthy bugger? I ‘ave…fuckin’ cum all over the bed thinkin’ of you stickin’ your hot dick deep inside, reaming me arse until you explode…” Gene’s roaming hand dropped below Sam’s waist and plowed into his erection, and Sam started bucking. His hips were thrusting backwards into Gene, who let out his own groan at the sensation.
“God….oh fuck, Gene, I’m gonna come…”
“Do it, do it, come for me, shake it out…let me see what I’m in for, what I’m goin’ to get when I ream you up the arse and into the floor…” Gene was panting, rubbing Sam off through his pants and pumping his own hips now as Sam started to come undone against him. Sam tried to curl forward but Gene’s other arm held him tight around his chest and his vision went black from lack of air. Just then, in that moment, Sam’s world shattered in Gene’s grasp and he came, throwing himself backwards, up and into Gene, yelling out his name. As he gasped for air, his mind puzzling what just happened, Gene walked backwards, dragging Sam with him until Gene sat on the edge of the cot, out of breath, with Sam on his lap.
Sam laughed and Gene froze, his hands on Sam’s chest, his face pressed into his back, but before Sam asked what was wrong Gene pulled him to the side, pushing him face up on the cot. Sam tucked his legs in so he was lying down with Gene sitting next to him, staring at him.
“What?” Sam smiled at the slightly confused look on Gene’s face.
“All this time?” Gene rubbed one hand over Sam’s shoulder and along his neck. Sam reached up and ran his fingers down Gene’s chest, then back up to start unbuttoning his shirt.
“Yeah.”
“Thought you an’ Miller were on.”
“Thought you wanted me out of the way.”
“Stupid git.”
“Yeah, you are,” Sam said, smiling even brighter as he worked at the shirt. He stopped at the stunned expression on Gene’s face.
Gene fell on top of him and kissed him, passionately grasping at Sam with his mouth. Taken of guard, Sam stalled for a moment, then wrapped Gene into him and kissed back until they were both gasping. Gene stopped and laid his face next to Sam’s.
“Gene?”
“Shut it, Tyler, I’m basking in the moment.”
Sam sputtered, trying not to laugh. Gene sat back up and took off his shirt, looking naughty and aroused, then stood up to take off his pants. Sam followed suit, stripping off his clothes, glad to be free of the dirty underwear.
As Gene finished undressing and sat back down, he gave Sam a critical look. “You done it, Sam?”
“Giving or receiving?”
Gene shrugged.
“Yeah. You?”
Gene nodded, and ran a hand down Sam’s thigh. “Not since before the wife.”
“Really?”
“Surprise you, that a man can keep to his wedding vows?” Gene’s eyes narrowed. Sam realized this was some sort of test, and saying ‘yes, shocked I am to know that you don’t fuck around’ was the wrong response. He debated the meaning, even though from the look on Gene’s face it was pretty clear.
“So that’s how it is, then?”
“Yeah. Take it or leave it.” Gene set his hands on his knees and looked at the wall, fatalistic, and Sam tried not to laugh at him again.
“Hunh. Well, got no other plans…”
Gene pulled him onto his side and slapped him on his arse. “Cheeky bugger.”
Sam pushed off and laid back down, petting his soft, re-emergent erection. "What's yours is yours, Gene. What you goin' to do about it?"
Gene pursed his lips. "I suppose got no choice but to ream you up the arse to make you see reason."
"No choice at all."
--------------
A united front walked into CID the next day, and Gene leaned against Ray’s desk in tacit approval while Sam raked Miller over the coals for ineptitude, irresponsibility, and laziness. Chris’ head nearly snapped off his neck looking between Gene, Sam, and Miller in shock. In fact the shock waves reverberated off the walls as Sam wrapped up his harangue and Gene walked casually into his office, leaving the door wide open for the first time in weeks. Sam proceeded to throw away all the reports on Miller’s desk, most of which were written and typed up by Chris or Annie, and pulled up a chair to watch him as if he were a child while he typed up everything on his own. He nit picked every detail and returned every folder that had even one piece of paper out of place and by the end of the day Miller was red faced, angry, and confused. On his way out that night, Gene studied the flustered kid and then made a joke with Ray about Miller choking on ‘his mama’s knickers.’ Miller wilted in humiliation as everyone left him behind for the pub.
Sam, though, was outright ruthless the next day, and the day after that, and finally later that week Miller arranged a closed door meeting with Hunt to complain about Tyler’s treatment of him, which he considered extreme and unfair. Hunt walked up, threw him up against the filing cabinet and yelled at him for being a spineless cunt, then dragged him out the door and shut it. This left him standing with his figurative dick in his hand and no one to turn to but Sam, who let him know his work was substandard and his attitude unacceptable. He shoved Miller into paperwork for weeks, indirectly letting everyone else on the team know he was in the shit house. Gene and Sam were finally working as a team again and as their treatment of the boy became tough and unforgiving, the entire team fell into line and refused to cut the charmer any slack.
When DC Miller asked for a transfer the following month, it was refused. When DC Miller walked off the scene of a murder investigation, irate over his treatment and bungling evidence in the process, Gene and Ray threw him into the boot of the Cortina, which Sam closed on him. When he asked anyone to try and cover for him, or do his paperwork for him, or do anything for him, it was duly reported back to his superiors and he always, always paid in blood, sweat, and tears.
When DC Miller proved instrumental in solving a major investigation two years after he first came into CID, working nearly three weeks without sleep assisting DS Skelton to lock up an airtight case against the suspect, who was eventually sent up for life based on the evidence they provided, DI Tyler put him in for promotion to sergeant and DCI Hunt signed off on it.
When DS Miller asked DCI Tyler for a transfer to RCS two years after that, it was granted.
When DS Miller put in for DI, he confided to Sam his plan on ousting Litton and taking over RCS himself and remaking the department into an efficient, hardworking unit. Both Tyler and Hunt wrote letters of recommendation.
When DI Miller finally made DCI and was given RCS for his own, he sent letters of gratitude to the men who put him in for the promotion, DSupt. Hunt and DCI Tyler. He also sent an expensive bottle of single malt to their home, which they refused to open until he joined them and the rest of ‘the old crew’ for a private celebratory dinner. Later that night after everyone cleared out and Sam collapsed on the couch next to Gene, they agreed that having the new guy come between them was the best damn thing that ever happened for all involved.
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