theatrical_muse 310: what do you do when you don't understand someone?
He's a little drunk and a lot frustrated, otherwise he'd never do this sort of thing, or so he tells himself. Either way, they haven't made it to his office and his trousers are around his ankles, and Jeanette's down on her knees before he can even blink. This would, perhaps, be bad for his career if someone were to walk in - but he's the only person mad enough to be at the station at this hour.
And, fuck, he knows there's something off with Jeanette, all smiles and flattery and flirtation. Girls like her don't come on to blokes like him without a damn good reason, and they certainly don't do the things she's doing with her pretty little red-lipsticked lips (he wonders idly if he's going to find a ring there later). They didn't do it in Manchester, when he was in his prime, and they sure as hell don't do it in London. But sometimes he just wants to close his eyes and forget, for just one single moment.
...And sometimes he wants to fuck petite blondes on Alex bloody Drake's desk, because it serves the frigid bitch right, doesn't it? He's bloody tired of having her prance around with her little posh nose in the air, acting like some sort of know-it-all, trying to make his cases go wrong. Jeanette squeaks every time he thrusts into her, like some sort of fucking dog toy, but he barely notices, because he's too busy thinking about Alex.
He'd trusted her, that's the thing that really gets to him. Not Jeanette - he doesn't trust her past the length of his dick - but Alex, they'd worked together, and he'd thought that even when everything else around him seemed to be falling to pieces, Drake was still a straight copper. He can cope with her hating him - it's not his job to be well-liked - but betraying him? Wanting to bring him down? It's a action that cuts him to the quick.
He comes with a grunt, his fingernails leaving marks in Jeanette's arse. She gives him a coy look, one that hints that he ought to go back to her place and spend the rest of his night losing himself in her. Maybe, if he'd been younger, he would be tempted, but he's older and wiser and can smell the putrid sticky-sweetness of a honeytrap when it's in front of him. He sends her on her way with a pat on the bum and retreats to his office to brood.
He leans back in his chair, watching the curling wisps of smoke from his cigarette on their way to the tiled ceiling. He thinks about listening to the tapes again - it's like some sort of foreign language, except he can translate it all too clearly. He just doesn't want to. He doesn't want to accept that his department is cracking to pieces around him - first Chris, now Drake, and Mack before them both. It's almost enough to make him want to quit entirely and go back home. He's tired of this city - Manchester had its good parts, but London, he thinks, is rotten to the core.
But even though he's old and tired, there's still fight in him, and he won't give up - can't give up. His bloody pride won't let him. He's not sure if he can eliminate the corruption that's spread to the rest of the Met like a disease, but he'll die trying. Even if he has to do it all on his own.
Muse: Gene Hunt
Fandom: Life on Mars/Ashes to Ashes
Words: 595
Warnings: Mature content, spoilers through 2x08.
And, fuck, he knows there's something off with Jeanette, all smiles and flattery and flirtation. Girls like her don't come on to blokes like him without a damn good reason, and they certainly don't do the things she's doing with her pretty little red-lipsticked lips (he wonders idly if he's going to find a ring there later). They didn't do it in Manchester, when he was in his prime, and they sure as hell don't do it in London. But sometimes he just wants to close his eyes and forget, for just one single moment.
...And sometimes he wants to fuck petite blondes on Alex bloody Drake's desk, because it serves the frigid bitch right, doesn't it? He's bloody tired of having her prance around with her little posh nose in the air, acting like some sort of know-it-all, trying to make his cases go wrong. Jeanette squeaks every time he thrusts into her, like some sort of fucking dog toy, but he barely notices, because he's too busy thinking about Alex.
He'd trusted her, that's the thing that really gets to him. Not Jeanette - he doesn't trust her past the length of his dick - but Alex, they'd worked together, and he'd thought that even when everything else around him seemed to be falling to pieces, Drake was still a straight copper. He can cope with her hating him - it's not his job to be well-liked - but betraying him? Wanting to bring him down? It's a action that cuts him to the quick.
He comes with a grunt, his fingernails leaving marks in Jeanette's arse. She gives him a coy look, one that hints that he ought to go back to her place and spend the rest of his night losing himself in her. Maybe, if he'd been younger, he would be tempted, but he's older and wiser and can smell the putrid sticky-sweetness of a honeytrap when it's in front of him. He sends her on her way with a pat on the bum and retreats to his office to brood.
He leans back in his chair, watching the curling wisps of smoke from his cigarette on their way to the tiled ceiling. He thinks about listening to the tapes again - it's like some sort of foreign language, except he can translate it all too clearly. He just doesn't want to. He doesn't want to accept that his department is cracking to pieces around him - first Chris, now Drake, and Mack before them both. It's almost enough to make him want to quit entirely and go back home. He's tired of this city - Manchester had its good parts, but London, he thinks, is rotten to the core.
But even though he's old and tired, there's still fight in him, and he won't give up - can't give up. His bloody pride won't let him. He's not sure if he can eliminate the corruption that's spread to the rest of the Met like a disease, but he'll die trying. Even if he has to do it all on his own.
Muse: Gene Hunt
Fandom: Life on Mars/Ashes to Ashes
Words: 595
Warnings: Mature content, spoilers through 2x08.