serafina20 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
serafina20) wrote2007-08-12 07:06 pm
serafina20) wrote2007-08-12 07:06 pm
Entry tags:
Fic: Accidentally
Title: Accidentally
Author: serafina20
Rating: Brown Cortina
Pairing: Sam/Gene
Summary: Sam accidentally finds out something about the Guv. And accidents continue to happen.
Spoilers: Major for 2.08
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
A bloke should not resemble in any way whatsoever a cat. It weren't natural. Weren't right. Blokes were blokes. Cats were cats. Fuzzy little things with tails and big ears and whiskers. And that boneless thing they did, all draped over everything, completely relaxed. Cats did that. Not blokes.
And yet, there was Sam. Sprawled across a chair, boneless, completely relaxed. Looking like a cat.
Gene had no bloody clue how he did it. It weren't natural or right.
But, there he was. Reminding Gene of a cat.
And that wasn't all that was wrong. It was Sunday afternoon, and Sam was here. At his house. They weren't at the pub or work or staking out some villain's lair. They weren't fighting or bickering and Sam was, for once, blessedly silent. They were just... sitting. Gene watching telly, newspaper in his lap; Sam playing like he were a cat, sprawled on the chair, reading a book.
All wrong. But it didn't feel wrong, and that made everything more wrong.
With his wife, things were... something. Not more simple or complicated. Set. Routine. Settled after years of living with each other, and then just living around each other. Days Gene was home, he did his thing, she did hers and their paths only crossed when he did something wrong. Which, in the last year, maybe more, had been regularly. So regularly, in fact, that Gene had taken to spending as much time away from the house. At the pub, the office, with Sam. Anywhere but the house and the frigid silences broken only by hot flashes of temper that left him scalded.
The letter hadn't been as much as a surprise as Gene let on. At least, not the part about her being unhappy. The stuff about the other bloke and her leaving. That'd been the shocker.
The case had kept him busy. Busy enough to notice, but not to feel the emptiness of the house.
And now Sam. Sam and his-so-right-but-should-be-wrong presence. Filling up the house with it. Acting like he belonged here, and Gene just didn't quite disagree. Liked him here, in fact. That by itself should be worrisome, and, yet again, it just weren't.
Made him question things if he thought too much He didn't want to think too much, though. Just wanted to sit and be glad that, for the first time in a long time, being in his own house felt like being home.
Even if Tyler was a floppy and relaxed, nose in a book, with bare feet. Even if those bare feet were unaccountably distracting. And those long fingers, turning the pages every once in awhile. Smoothing over the cover with small, even strokes. Resting against his cheek. Just...
There was no reason Sam should be more interesting than the telly. No reason at all. And yet...
Sam turned another page of his book. He sighed, a soft smile curving his lips. His eyes flicked upwards momentarily. Then they came back again and rested on Gene's face.
"What?"
Flustered at being caught staring, Gene lifted his neglected newspaper and shook the pages. "What what?"
"Why are you staring at me."
"'m not." He looked at his newspaper. Then back up. "I can't cook, you know."
Sam stared at him, politely. Like you look at a crazy uncle who tucks his shirt into his underwear and doesn't wear pants. "Oh?"
He scowled. "Little. Bacon butty. Eggs. Toast, tea. Beans. Stuff you dump into pots. Nothing like... like food."
"Well," Sam said after a moment. "It's not a skill most men of this.... A lot of men have, is it? You had a wife to do that."
"Right, but now I don't. See? So, unless I plan on eating at the pub every night, or eating toast, I'm not exactly, you know. Be in a good situation."
"You could remarry."
Gene reminded himself that the other man had a concussion and considering the tiny little tap that'd given him it, it wasn't a good idea to smack him again. Plus, if he did smack Sam, he'd have to get up, and he was comfortable where he was.
And he didn't want Sam's brains to fall out his arse.
"You know how to cook," he said.
"I can."
"And you like it."
Sam blinked. "I'm not... going to cook for you. I mean, maybe once in awhile, but not..."
"You could teach me, you bloody moron," Gene finally burst out. Then, quickly, trying to save some dignity, he said, "It'd be nice, you know. To be able to it on me own. If I need to."
"Yeah. Yeah, I understand, Guv."
"Man can't rely on take-away and frozen dinners." He looked sharply at Sam. "Don't want to learn any of your delicate, fancy, fairy-boy stuff, though. Meat, potatoes. Maybe a vegetable or something. Simple."
"Of course." Sam nodded. The corners of his mouth were quivering, like he was holding back laughter. "Something quick and easy you can whip up when you come home. Got it."
"Right." Gene cleared his throat. Looked away, eyes landing on a painting his wife had hung years ago; there'd been a layer of dust on it up until yesterday, when Sam had played happy housewife and dusted. "I've been thinking. You can stay over, sometimes, if you want. Kip in the guestroom. Not like anyone's using it, and the bed's better than the one at your flat. And, if you're gonna teach me, might as well do it here." He turned to Sam again. Narrowed his eyes. "Not every night."
"No. Of course not."
"And you have to ask, first. If we don't already have an agreement, you know? If you just want a place to kip, and I haven't already invited you to teach me, you need to ask."
He nodded. "Right."
Gene glared at him. "And you don't tell no one. Not Chris, not Ray, not the plonk, not Nelson. Not the bloody loony what sings Christmas carols on the street corner. Anyone knows, and your outsides will be your insides. Got it?"
Sam just stared.
Maybe the concussion was messing up his hearing. "Got it?" Gene repeated. Louder.
He blinked. "Yeah. Got it."
"Good." Gene settled back against the couch. He shook out his paper and opened it. "We'll start tomorrow, then. So you might as well drop by your flat at some point, get a change of clothes. No reason to leave after; I'm guessing there'll be stuff to wash, and I know how much you love doing that."
"Um. Right. Right, Guv, I'll. I'll do that. Then."
From over a folded section of the paper, Gene watched as Sam picked his book back up. Stared at the pages, but didn't seem to read. He frowned and wondered why Sam looked so much like a man blindsided with unexpected news. Then, he shook himself; Sam spent most of his time looking like that. Nothing different now.
Satisfied, Gene let the paper fold back into place, obscuring his view. Which is how he missed the rosy blush that stole over Sam's face, and a realization dawning.
Author: serafina20
Rating: Brown Cortina
Pairing: Sam/Gene
Summary: Sam accidentally finds out something about the Guv. And accidents continue to happen.
Spoilers: Major for 2.08
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
A bloke should not resemble in any way whatsoever a cat. It weren't natural. Weren't right. Blokes were blokes. Cats were cats. Fuzzy little things with tails and big ears and whiskers. And that boneless thing they did, all draped over everything, completely relaxed. Cats did that. Not blokes.
And yet, there was Sam. Sprawled across a chair, boneless, completely relaxed. Looking like a cat.
Gene had no bloody clue how he did it. It weren't natural or right.
But, there he was. Reminding Gene of a cat.
And that wasn't all that was wrong. It was Sunday afternoon, and Sam was here. At his house. They weren't at the pub or work or staking out some villain's lair. They weren't fighting or bickering and Sam was, for once, blessedly silent. They were just... sitting. Gene watching telly, newspaper in his lap; Sam playing like he were a cat, sprawled on the chair, reading a book.
All wrong. But it didn't feel wrong, and that made everything more wrong.
With his wife, things were... something. Not more simple or complicated. Set. Routine. Settled after years of living with each other, and then just living around each other. Days Gene was home, he did his thing, she did hers and their paths only crossed when he did something wrong. Which, in the last year, maybe more, had been regularly. So regularly, in fact, that Gene had taken to spending as much time away from the house. At the pub, the office, with Sam. Anywhere but the house and the frigid silences broken only by hot flashes of temper that left him scalded.
The letter hadn't been as much as a surprise as Gene let on. At least, not the part about her being unhappy. The stuff about the other bloke and her leaving. That'd been the shocker.
The case had kept him busy. Busy enough to notice, but not to feel the emptiness of the house.
And now Sam. Sam and his-so-right-but-should-be-wrong presence. Filling up the house with it. Acting like he belonged here, and Gene just didn't quite disagree. Liked him here, in fact. That by itself should be worrisome, and, yet again, it just weren't.
Made him question things if he thought too much He didn't want to think too much, though. Just wanted to sit and be glad that, for the first time in a long time, being in his own house felt like being home.
Even if Tyler was a floppy and relaxed, nose in a book, with bare feet. Even if those bare feet were unaccountably distracting. And those long fingers, turning the pages every once in awhile. Smoothing over the cover with small, even strokes. Resting against his cheek. Just...
There was no reason Sam should be more interesting than the telly. No reason at all. And yet...
Sam turned another page of his book. He sighed, a soft smile curving his lips. His eyes flicked upwards momentarily. Then they came back again and rested on Gene's face.
"What?"
Flustered at being caught staring, Gene lifted his neglected newspaper and shook the pages. "What what?"
"Why are you staring at me."
"'m not." He looked at his newspaper. Then back up. "I can't cook, you know."
Sam stared at him, politely. Like you look at a crazy uncle who tucks his shirt into his underwear and doesn't wear pants. "Oh?"
He scowled. "Little. Bacon butty. Eggs. Toast, tea. Beans. Stuff you dump into pots. Nothing like... like food."
"Well," Sam said after a moment. "It's not a skill most men of this.... A lot of men have, is it? You had a wife to do that."
"Right, but now I don't. See? So, unless I plan on eating at the pub every night, or eating toast, I'm not exactly, you know. Be in a good situation."
"You could remarry."
Gene reminded himself that the other man had a concussion and considering the tiny little tap that'd given him it, it wasn't a good idea to smack him again. Plus, if he did smack Sam, he'd have to get up, and he was comfortable where he was.
And he didn't want Sam's brains to fall out his arse.
"You know how to cook," he said.
"I can."
"And you like it."
Sam blinked. "I'm not... going to cook for you. I mean, maybe once in awhile, but not..."
"You could teach me, you bloody moron," Gene finally burst out. Then, quickly, trying to save some dignity, he said, "It'd be nice, you know. To be able to it on me own. If I need to."
"Yeah. Yeah, I understand, Guv."
"Man can't rely on take-away and frozen dinners." He looked sharply at Sam. "Don't want to learn any of your delicate, fancy, fairy-boy stuff, though. Meat, potatoes. Maybe a vegetable or something. Simple."
"Of course." Sam nodded. The corners of his mouth were quivering, like he was holding back laughter. "Something quick and easy you can whip up when you come home. Got it."
"Right." Gene cleared his throat. Looked away, eyes landing on a painting his wife had hung years ago; there'd been a layer of dust on it up until yesterday, when Sam had played happy housewife and dusted. "I've been thinking. You can stay over, sometimes, if you want. Kip in the guestroom. Not like anyone's using it, and the bed's better than the one at your flat. And, if you're gonna teach me, might as well do it here." He turned to Sam again. Narrowed his eyes. "Not every night."
"No. Of course not."
"And you have to ask, first. If we don't already have an agreement, you know? If you just want a place to kip, and I haven't already invited you to teach me, you need to ask."
He nodded. "Right."
Gene glared at him. "And you don't tell no one. Not Chris, not Ray, not the plonk, not Nelson. Not the bloody loony what sings Christmas carols on the street corner. Anyone knows, and your outsides will be your insides. Got it?"
Sam just stared.
Maybe the concussion was messing up his hearing. "Got it?" Gene repeated. Louder.
He blinked. "Yeah. Got it."
"Good." Gene settled back against the couch. He shook out his paper and opened it. "We'll start tomorrow, then. So you might as well drop by your flat at some point, get a change of clothes. No reason to leave after; I'm guessing there'll be stuff to wash, and I know how much you love doing that."
"Um. Right. Right, Guv, I'll. I'll do that. Then."
From over a folded section of the paper, Gene watched as Sam picked his book back up. Stared at the pages, but didn't seem to read. He frowned and wondered why Sam looked so much like a man blindsided with unexpected news. Then, he shook himself; Sam spent most of his time looking like that. Nothing different now.
Satisfied, Gene let the paper fold back into place, obscuring his view. Which is how he missed the rosy blush that stole over Sam's face, and a realization dawning.
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The description of Sam as being like a cat at the beginning is also perfect: it made me think of Sam and Gene as being like my ancient cat and the relationship she had with the dog we used to have: constantly attacking one another and roughing around like dogs and cats, and then curling up to sleep next to each other and sometimes even dropping their food into each others' dishes like some sort of gift exchange. Totally Sam and Gene.
Great chapter!
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That's so cute! And definitely Sam and Gene.
Glad you liked the part. Thanks!
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Another great chapter :)
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He has to make sure Sam knows they'll be doing MANLY cooking, none of that gay-boy stuff. :)
Thanks!
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I love the way Gene has taken the relationship to a whole new level without apparently realising it, and that he's such a controlling bastard even when he's feeling really needy.
Is there more to come?
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Thank you!
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Thanks!
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eagerly awaiting sams pov
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Thanks! I'm doing my best to take the realtionship from the show and just expand it into a more romantic one. I'll get there eventually.
Thank you.
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Evil is what I do. :)
I'm very glad you're enjoying it! THanks for giving me a chance.
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Settled after years of living with each other, and then just living around each other
That line? Is pure genius.
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That line? Is pure genius.
Ah, thank you. I love hearing that. Makes me feel like I may be pretty good at this writign thing. :)
Thanks!
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This story is AMAZING! I can't wait for the next chapter... and there was so much that I loved about it... Gene's protectiveness of Sam, Sam's house-wifely-ness (an innocent little kink of mine *blush: II*). And the way Gene hit Sam for bad-mouthing his wife, because he's the only one who can bad-mouth her, balanced against the way he's going to beat the crap out of whoever hurt Sam because he's the only one who can beat the crap out of his DI. :D *loves*
And, on top of that, getting them to platonically share a bed without Gene being all awkward about it? Pure genius. :P
And Morgan! Oooh... he was so - so... evil. In an 'it's all for your own good' sort of way: "Sammy, my boy. I miss you. Don't wait to long. Come home, and I'll tell you anything you need to know. Anything you've forgotten, I'll remind you." - that line there sent shivers down my spine. So - cold and manipulative, and yet, theoretically, the words are affectionate. Perfect. (I did notice, though - sorry! - that the 'to' was wrong; it should be 'too long', right? Sorry!) And Sam's used to it and - has he mentioned it to anyone? Because he seemed to be really dreading the phone call...
Can I be really cheeky, and say what I thought might be happening? Feel free to send me a, er... a cyber-slap (?) if I'm out of line. It's just - was "Sam Williams" in a relationship with Morgan? Is that how he got all those injuries?
Is Gene going to hurt Morgan for it? :D
Sorry... just thought I'd ask, even though I know that you're not likely to give away any of the (excellent!) plot. *shy grin* Worth a try, right?
And Gene got all protective over even just the phone-call! Wonderful.
And then, on top of all that wonderful, this chapter - saying about how Gene felt at home in his own house again because Sam was there... lovely. I am so looking forward to the next chapter! This is a wonderful story, spot-on characterization; not too soft, but not harsh - there's no malice in either of them, just... *grin* a slight obsession with full-on-contact "male-bonding".
Ahem. Sorry.
Anyway; this is brilliant, and thank you!!
...and sorry for the uber-review. *coughs* I think I got a little over-the-top.
Thank you again!
-kalik
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YEah, it's an innocent little kink of mine, too. As long as it remains IC, which I'm hoping Sam is. But I see him as a tidy, sort of fussy person, who cleans as a matter of habit and is willing to do it for friends (especially Gene) if necessary. And it's fun to write him cleaning and Gene being rather bemused about it.
that line there sent shivers down my spine. So - cold and manipulative, and yet, theoretically, the words are affectionate. Perfect.
I'm glad it did. I wanted to get that very manipulative, creepy tone into those innocent words. It's so much more scary than if he'd been actually, overtly creepy. Because this way, he means well, or at least, he sounds like it and... well, you know.
And, you're right; it should be "too". My fingers type the wrong combination all the time, even though my brain knows the difference. I'll have to go back and fix that. Sorry if it threw you out; I have a bad habit of mixing up words and homonyms and such.
Can I be really cheeky, and say what I thought might be happening? Feel free to send me a, er... a cyber-slap (?) if I'm out of line. It's just - was "Sam Williams" in a relationship with Morgan? Is that how he got all those injuries?
Is Gene going to hurt Morgan for it? :D
Sorry... just thought I'd ask, even though I know that you're not likely to give away any of the (excellent!) plot. *shy grin* Worth a try, right?
Read and see. :)
...and sorry for the uber-review. *coughs* I think I got a little over-the-top.
No, not at all! In fact, feel free to leave many uber-reviews. I love them!!
Thank you!
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Glad you liked the part. thanks for reviewing!
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That's a pretty sight ;)