And now for something different, I'll post fic

[serafina20]

I promise I'll get back to PB soon. I've got lots bubbling up in the old noggin.

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, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8



"There was another robbery," Phyllis greeted them as Sam and Gene brought their crooks in. "Another grandmother in hospital, this one in critical condition."

Sam's stomach sank as Gene's face darkened to a thundercloud.

"What?" he snapped.

"Same as last time. Broke in, tied her up. Took anything valuable. This one, though, got hit in the head. She's in a coma." Phyllis shrugged. "Cartwright's at the scene. Carling and Skelton are on their way."

"Late to the party," said Sam, with a weak smile. Gene looked as if he were about to explode. "We better get on our way."

The look Gene gave him made some part of Sam cower in fear, but he ignored that part. Stared back defiantly.

Jaw tight, Gene pushed passed him. Smacked into his shoulder so he stumbled a few steps.

Sam rolled his eyes. "Phyllis?"

She gave him the address, for which he thanked her, then turned to follow Gene. Back to the car, and the streets.

He didn't know what to say. To make it better. If anything.

God, these cases. It was bad enough when people got hurt, got killed. But children. And now women. Truly defenseless, mainly housebound, old women. It was hard to take.

The scene was as clean as the other had been. Nothing left behind, no hairs that they could see. Forensics had dusted for prints, but only found one set, probably the victim's.

After they went through the house, Gene wanted to see the victim. So, off they went to the hospital.

She was a tiny thing. Wrinkled skin clinging to bird-like bones. Dark bruises around both wrists. Cuts and blood at the corner of her thin lips. One side of her face was purple, almost black. There was a bad cut near her temple, matted hair, still stained red, even though it'd been cleaned.

"She could be my mum," Gene said, staring down at Mrs. Jones.

"But she's not." Sam looked at him. Wished he could reach out and take his hand.

Gene shrugged. "Could be." He swallowed. "She's not around now. Moved a couple of years ago. Blackpool. But it could be her." He let out a long breath.

He couldn't help it. Couldn't help but let his hand brush the back of Gene's. Let his little finger tangle with Gene's, hooking around. Squeezing. "We'll get them, Gene."

Gene snorted. Didn't pull away. "But will we get them before they hurt someone else. Kill them this time?" He shook his head again. "They don't care what they do, Sam. They're trying to avoid a murder rap, but it's not like the right care. This one..." Gene pulled his hand away from Sam's and reached for his hip flask. "If she dies..."

"She won't."

"You don't know that."

He was right. Sam didn't know that Mrs. Jones would survive. That they'd catch them before they struck again. That the next old woman wouldn't...

"We need to put out a statement. Get these women with family. With friends." Sam looked at Gene. "See if we can't spare anyone to watch their houses."

"What? Every woman over the age fifty-five in the city? Oh, yeah, that won't be any problem. Lots of PCs and such to spare."

Gene's sarcasm was acid, but he was right. Sam straightened his shoulders and pushed on. "Okay, we look at the profile. Well to do, widows mostly. No family in town. Live alone. The thieves are targeting silver, china, jewelry, and whatever money's in the house. Heirlooms. So." He wasn't sure where that left them. "We see if there's a concentration of them. In one area. Mrs. Jones and Mrs. Hubert lived in the same neighborhood. Abouts. We look around there, then."

Gene looked at him.

"We could send some PC's door to door. Asking. They were in a two or three square mile radius. There can't be that many, not in there."

"And if they switch to the other side of town?"

Sam sighed. "We need to start somewhere, Guv. And, right now, this is our best lead."

He took another swig from his flask, then put it away. Before he answered Sam, he pulled out his cigarettes and lit up. "Fine," he said after a couple puffs. "We'll try it your way. It's a waste of time and won't work, but other than rounding up all the old ladies in Manchester and stuffing them in cells for their safety, can't think of anything else."

"At least we'll feel like we're doing something." He shrugged. "Should we head back?"

"Yeah." He let out one last breath. Reached down to touch Mrs. Jones's cheek. "We'll get the bastards what did this to you. I promise." Then he turned. Faced Sam. Was silent a moment, just looking. "When we catch them, you can natter on all you want about procedures and ethics and all your noncy shit. But I need to hurt someone for this. Pound 'em into the ground for what they did."

A half-smile flitted over Sam's face. "Maybe I'll just have to teach you a different way to relieve that aggression, Guv. A different kind of pounding someone into the ground."

Gene's eyes sparked hot. Then another look flashed over his face, one Sam couldn't read.

He stepped back. Stuck his fag into his mouth. "We gotta get back," he said gruffly. "Let's go."

"Right." Sam gave Mrs. Jones one last look, then followed his guv from the room.

* * *

They went back to the scene, where door to door questioning was already being conducted. Not just for future potential victims, but for any witnesses. Annie, Chris, even Ray were canvassing the streets.

"Found anything?" Sam asked Annie when he and Gene arrived.

She shook her head. "No one saw anything. I think it probably happened sometime during the night." She hesitated, opening her mouth, and then closing, shooting a glance at Ray.

"What?" said Sam.

"It's just..."

"Cartwright," Ray cut in. "We've been though it. No one's seen anything, and we're wasting our time here."

"Tell me, Annie," he said, ignoring Ray.

Annie gave him a small smile. "The people across the street. Mr. and Mrs. Hunter. They said they didn't see anything, but, well, Mr. Hunter has insomnia. Stays up all night, sitting in a chair by the window. I was thinking that maybe he saw and doesn't know it."

"And I saw they're a couple of old fools who already who told us everything that they know. Nothing." Ray threw his cigarette on the ground and stepped on it with his heel.

Sam looked at Gene. "It's our best lead so far," he pointed out.

Gene thought a moment. Looked from Annie's glowing, hesitant face to Ray's grousing thundercloud. Shrugged. "Let's go."

Together, they crossed the street and knocked on the door. An old, wizened woman with tightly permed white hair, nearly translucent wrinkled skin, wearing a yellow dress sprinkled with flowers answered.

"Hello, luv," Gene greeted, his voice gentle the way it always was when speaking with older women. "I'm DCI Hunt. This is DI Tyler. We had a few more questions about what happened to Mrs. Jones."

"Oh, yes. That nice lady was here earlier asking about Barbara. Pretty little lass, isn't she? Being in the police isn't a job for a girl like that. It's too dangerous."

"Can we come in, Mrs. Hunter?" Sam asked.

She blinked owlish eyes at him. Nodded.

They entered and were led to a sitting room. A man was sitting in a chair near the window, sleeping.

"James. James, the police are back." Mrs. Hunter shuffled to her husband and shook him.

"What?" he snapped as he woke.

She turned. "This is DCI Hunter and DI Tyler. They want to talk to us about Barbara."

He squinted at them, lips smacking together. "We already told them what we know. Nothing."

Sam took a chair nearby. "WPC Cartwright mentioned you have insomnia, Mr. Hunter. I was hoping that maybe sometime last night, you may have seen something and not realized what you saw."

"I didn't see anything." He waved his hand in front of his face. Fumbled in his the pocket of his robe before pulling out a box of cigarettes. "She likes to go to bed at eight. Can't sleep if I'm not there, either."

"You've been at my side for fifty-five years, James. Of course I can't sleep without you."

"Yeah, well. I go to bed with her and always wake up at one fifteen. Can't sleep past then, so I come out here. Work on models." He gestured at the ship he was putting together, lying in pieces on a table next to him.

"So, you got up after one. Sat in the chair. Did you see anything? Any people walking down the streets? Cars?"

He puffed on his cigarette. Shrugged. "Around four a car drove down the street. Really slow, right from there," he pointed a few houses down, "to there," past his and Mrs. Jones's house.

Sam and Gene exchanged looks.

"What kind of car was it?" asked Gene.

"Dunno. It was dark, wasn't it? Didn't exactly stop and turn a light on for me to see, did it?" He cleared his throat. "I need a drink, woman."

"Tea?"

"Scotch."

Mrs. Hunter got up. "Would you boys like anything? Tea?"

"Tea is fine," Sam said, before Gene could mention he'd like some Scotch. "Thank you." He turned to Mr. Hunter. "Was it a big car or small?"

He frowned. "Dunno. Big. Not little."

"Boxy, pointy, smooth."

"More like a box, I guess. Not like that car out there." He pointed at the Cortina. "It's front was shorter."

"What color?" asked Gene.

"Don't know. It was dark." His brow furrowed. "Maybe blue. Black. Dark color."

Mrs. Hunter came back with her husband's Scotch. "I just put some water on to warm."

"Thank you." Sam looked back at his notes. "Mr. Hunter, after you saw the car, what happened? What did you do?"

"Stayed. Read a bit, then went to bed."

"What time?"

"Five. Go back to bed at five, every morning. Sleep usually until about ten or so."

"I'm up at six," Mrs. Hunter said. "I came out here this morning, got the paper, made breakfast. I always eat right here." She pat her seat and the table. "And I looked out the window to say good morning to Barbara, but wasn't there. I thought it was unusual, because she's always up at ten after six, outside getting her paper. She looks up and waves to me before she goes back in. But, then, she was sick last week. Poor dear had a cold. I thought maybe she was sick again, so I didn't think much of it. When James got up, she still hadn't been up. Even when she's sick, she always come out around ten to water her flowers. I started thinking maybe it was serious, so I went over. I have a key, you see, just in case. I found her on the floor, all tied up and sleeping." Mrs. Hunter shuddered. "It was awful."

"I know, luv. But she's safe, now. The doctors will take care of her." Gene looked at Sam. Raised an eyebrow.

He nodded. "I think that's all we need. We should be on our way."

"But the tea..."

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Hunter. But if we're going to find the person who did this, we need to go."

She nodded. "Of course. Thank you, officers."

"Thank you."

Mr. Hunter just nodded at them, drinking his Scotch.

He reminded Sam of Gene. Gene in twenty or thirty years. Which made Sam, what? Mrs. Hunter?

He shuddered at the thought.

"So," Gene said one they were outside. He pulled his cigarettes out and lit one up. "They most likely broke in between five and six. Or, between the hours of eight and one fifteen AM. Or, anytime between that, only Mr. Hunter weren't looking out the window and didn't notice. So, what we learned in... nothing." He smacked Sam on the back so hard, he stumbled forward.

"We got a description of the car."

"Oh, yeah. Big, boxy car that may be either black or blue, but could be any other color under the sun because he couldn't really see it."

"So, we get pictures of car and show it to him. Maybe that will trigger something more specific." He cocked his head. "Unless you just want to haul him in and see if punching him up will jog his memory."

Gene walked across the street to his car. Sam followed.

"Carling! Skellton. Cartwright!"

They came over.

"You got the PCs doing door to doors, finding out anyone else these bastards might attack?"

"Yeah, Guv. Waste of time, if you ask me. Waste of resources." Ray glared at Sam, who bristled back.

"You got a better idea, then?" asked Gene.

"How 'bout bringing in some suspects for questioning? Doing real police work and getting the baddies off the street?"

Gene nodded, looking as if he were considering it. He glanced at Sam. Took a final puff on his cigarette, then threw it on the ground.

Then, in a move Sam had been on the receiving end of hundreds of times, he grabbed Ray. Slammed him against the Cortina. "Who?" he bellowed in Ray's face. "Who exactly am I supposed to be hauling in? Cause I ain't seen anything to give me half a clue as to who to lay this on."

Ray's eyes were wide. He tugged at Gene's hands. "Uh. The Carlisles."

"Out of town."

"Those blokes? Bert and Edmund? Busted them on hitting houses a few years ago."

"Edmund was shot last year, Bert's gone straight."

"Trenton?"

"He's in prison, you div!" Gene smacked him on the side of the head. Released him.

Ray stumbled away. "Wha... What about... about H-Hobbs. And his gang? They hit all kinds of things. Shops. Banks. Whatever."

"Out of the city."

"No, they're not," Chris piped up. "Hobbs knocked over a shop a few months ago. Served his months and got out."

Gene shook his head. "This isn't they way he operates."

"It's better than nothing."

He clenched his jaw. Pulled his flask out and took a long drink. Then he looked at Sam.

Sam sighed. He felt infinitely old. "We don't have any evidence," he said wearily.

Gene squeezed his eyes shut. Rubbed his head. "I need a drink."

* * *

"So," Sam said, hours later, and well into his cups. "Why didn't you pull in Hobbs and his gang like Ray wanted?"

Gene blinked at him. Lolled his head back against the wall. "Well. You said there weren't no evidence."

"Like that's ever stopped you before."

"Sammy. I always go with my gut. And in this case, my gut says that it's not them. It's not how they do things. Never hurt no one, not unless they get in the way. And even then, it's not like this."

There was a sudden commotion from the other side of the pub. Sam looked over and saw that Chris had managed to throw his dart into someone's pint. The pint went back over Chris and he was being sent to buy another round for everyone.

Sam looked back at Gene. They'd been there for hours. Gene'd been downing beer and whiskey as if it were endangered. Every time Sam had begun to suggest they head off, Gene would send him for another round.

His head was beginning to swim.

"Gene," Sam said. His head was heavy. Too heavy for his neck.

He yawned. A huge, jaw cracking yawn.

"What?"

"What, what?"

Gene snorted. "You're pissed, Tyler."

"I am." He picked up his pint and took another mouthful. "Ever wonder what you'll be like when you're old?"

"What?"

"Retired. Old. Like the Hunters." Sam yawned again. "He reminded me of you."

"You reminded me of her."

"No I didn't."

"Did. Fussy. Particular."

"Leads her husband around by his bollocks?" Sam said softly over the rim of his glass.

Gene looked at him. "Didn't look that way to me. She's the one who got up for his drink."

"She's the one who makes him go to bed when she wants." Underneath the table, Sam ran his foot up Gene's calf. "And I'm ready to head off."

Gene swallowed hard. Downed his whiskey in a gulp. "Need another for the road."

"Last one."

"Course."

Forty-five minutes and half a bottle of whiskey later, Gene finally agreed to go. He was completely pissed. Leaned against Sam heavily as they made their way to the car. Sam knew he shouldn't be driving, but Gene flat out couldn't; at least Sam could walk straight.

Sam got them home. Dragged Gene upstairs and got him out of his coat and shoes.

"You're drunk," Sam said, sitting on the bed. He ran his hand over Gene's forehead. Through his hair.

Gene snored softly, dead to the world.

He sighed. "Obviously we need to talk. Unfortunately, we won't tonight. Won't be doing anything tonight." He sighed again. Bent down and kissed Gene lightly.

The other man responded slightly, then rolled over and flopped onto his stomach.

Sam got up and went to the door. "Good-night, Gene," he whispered, then turned off the light and went to his own room to sleep.

Comments

[dorsetgirl.livejournal.com]

Ah, poor Gene. He's scared! He's nervous of taking that next step 'cos he's not sure what to do. Still, he does have remarkable powers of recovery from the demon drink. Surely he'll be ready for his first lesson by tomorrow morning, won't he? PLEASE?

[serafina20.livejournal.com]

He is scared. Lots going on for him: wife leaving, coming onto Sam, Sam coming back onto him. No wonder, eh?

Thank you. :)

[hambelandjemima.livejournal.com]

I agree with dorsetgirl. Sam's making it obvious what he wants from Gene and Gene's nervous in case he doesn't 'come up to scratch'. I bet he wasn't really asleep ;)

And now there's a case to solve. It gets better and better :)

[serafina20.livejournal.com]

I bet he wasn't really asleep ;)

I think he was really asleep, but he also made himself drunk enough to ensure it'd happen. Poor Gene. And poor Sam.

Thanks!

[isagel.livejournal.com]

Oooh, I loved that now that Sam has come to terms with what he wants from Gene, Gene chickens out by way of the bottle. It's so exactly what he would do.

A half-smile flitted over Sam's face. "Maybe I'll just have to teach you a different way to relieve that aggression, Guv. A different kind of pounding someone into the ground."

Guh. That's all I've got to say on this score. ;)

I also liked that Gene didn't agree to pull in the usual suspects. Because it's not about beating confessions out of random people, it's about following his guts. That's the whole point, after all. Sam and Gene aren't good cop/bad cop or nice cop/let's-rough-'em-up-for-the-hell-of-it cop, they're the complimentary qualities of intellect and instinct, which is why Sam needs Gene so badly.

[serafina20.livejournal.com]

I also liked that Gene didn't agree to pull in the usual suspects. Because it's not about beating confessions out of random people, it's about following his guts. That's the whole point, after all. Sam and Gene aren't good cop/bad cop or nice cop/let's-rough-'em-up-for-the-hell-of-it cop, they're the complimentary qualities of intellect and instinct, which is why Sam needs Gene so badly.

That's one thing I love about the show: they have so much to teach each other. And Gene isn't someone who makes work for himself just for the sake of it, even when that work is his favorite activity of pounding on someone. He wants results, and pulling in random people won't give him that.

Oooh, I loved that now that Sam has come to terms with what he wants from Gene, Gene chickens out by way of the bottle. It's so exactly what he would do.

Well, Lord knows, he can't talk about what he's feeling. :)

Thank you!!

[nova-mist.livejournal.com]

Oooh, what a suspenseful cliffhanger you have left us with! :)

I can't wait to find out what happens next!

[serafina20.livejournal.com]

Thanks! Glad you liked it. :)

[saintvic.livejournal.com]

You know everytime I comment on a chapter I have to try and think of new ways of saying this is fabulous and I am enjoying every single part. : )

[serafina20.livejournal.com]

And I enjoy hearing it. :) Thank you.

[liquorishflame.livejournal.com]

Tra la la, I am happy because Sam is happy and drunk :) Well, there is that pesky buisness about solving those crimes, but I'm here for teh sex (you write good plot, I didn't really mean it!) :)

[serafina20.livejournal.com]

Sex and more plot will be coming, so you'll get your fill. :)

Thanks.

[sytaxia.livejournal.com]

So close! Dang it, so many cliffhangers wrapped around teh slash in this, and I'm getting even more curious about the caseload that the boys have to work on, as well, and on what emotions those could stir up in them. As always, your characterization is spot on, and I can't wait to read more!

[randysugardandy.livejournal.com]

lol rereading is fun XD (i dont usualy reread seemingly possesing a good memory for useless things like fanfics, but not revision XO! but this is too damn fun not to)

this is so gene, getting too pissed to bite the bullet but he always comes through *giggles, huggles samberwick gene plushies*

[draycevixen.livejournal.com]

Poor Gene losing his bottle... Hopefully someone will help him find it! :D