Fic: Money Makes The World Go Round
Title: Money Makes The World Go Round
Series: Torchwood
Characters: PC Andy
Rating: PG
Beta: luvinthe88and20
Spoilers: Meat (TW 2.4)
Disclaimer: I do not own Torchwood or the characters therein, they belong to the BBC and RTD. Any original characters and places are my property.
Summary: Andy could be the bad guy for once with the right motivation.
Author's Note: Written for the tw_lucky_7 prompt of "greed."
Money Makes The World Go Round
Andy dropped into the back booth at the pub. Running his hands over his face, Andy felt tired. He didn’t even bother taking off his grey hoodie. He motioned to the waitress and she started making her way over to him with a freshly pulled pint.
He nearly gulped down the first half of the pint in one swig. He should have already been home hours ago, plopped down in front of the telly with a decent meal. Now he’d be lucky to catch the late movie and suck down some ramen. The fact that except for a cup of yoghurt, the ramen was the only edible thing he could afford at the moment, did not cheer him.
He should have been able to clock off and head out at a normal time, but his life didn’t exactly constitute normal anymore. There came the damn overtime with barely any extra pay, and the fact that after all these years he was still a dang PC. He could hear it in his head, Detective Inspector Davidson. It had a nice ring to it.
Then there was bloody Torchwood. He didn’t know who liked fobbing him off more: all of Torchwood or just Gwen Cooper. Tonight’s little escapade was par for the course. Get called to a scene five minutes before he was supposed to clock out and then something seems odd, so he needs to hold down the fort while the Torchwood cavalry arrives. They don’t even pay him any heed, but at least Harkness seems to recognise him as a fellow human being, actually looking at him. All Gwen did was order him around. How hard was one little “thanks Andy?”
Spotting the waitress headed his way with another pint, Andy waved her off. He couldn’t afford a second pint. Pulling out his wallet, he took out the last fiver he had until payday, which was three days away. Sighing, Andy left the whole thing on the table - times were hard all around and she was a good girl with bills of her own. Grabbing his duffel from the seat next to him, Andy headed home.
Manoeuvring through the flat without turning on a light, Andy flopped down onto the beleaguered sofa, remote for the telly in his hand. He clicked it on, not even paying attention to the programme that droned on in the background. Unzipping his duffel, Andy pulled out a thick envelope that had been handed to him earlier in the day. He became slackjawed as he opened the envelope and looked at a stack of 100 fivers. He couldn’t believe it.
The young guy that ran into him at the cafe while Andy popped in to get a tea had given it to him. He had seemed rather squirrely, and rather insistent on talking with Andy, but Andy hadn’t had the time. The brown-haired man had said he would meet with Andy at the same cafe at 11, and shoved the envelope into his hands. Andy had dismissed the guy as odd and nearly forgot about the envelope until now.
He had never had so much cash in his hands at one time before. Andy shook his head in disbelief. This was utter bollocks! PC Andy Davidson had some bloke in a corduroy suit jacket trying to buy him off. Oh sure, a copper on the take was not unusual - Andy knew of four other in the Cardiff department alone - but could he be one of them? Holding the wad of bills in his hand, Andy liked how it felt. Being able to pay some bills and even have money left over would be very nice.
It was nearly 4:00 a.m. by the time Andy roused himself up from the sofa and shuffled off to his bedroom. He would meet with the man at 11:00 a.m. later that day. Andy tossed and turned for several hours, finally getting up around 9:00. He took a leisurely shower and treated himself to breakfast at the little cafe where he intended to meet this bloke. Finishing up his toast, Andy had not felt this full and satiated in a long time.
“Tastes good, doesn’t it mate?” the guy from yesterday said as he slid into the booth across from Andy.
“It does,” Andy replied, looking the guy up and down. He was wiry with muscles, but Andy knew he could still take him down.
“So? How have things been? A little tough with the economy, eh mate?” The strange man looked at ease, lounging against the fake leather of the booth.
“Wouldn’t it be the same for everyone?” Andy replied.
“You would think.” The man smiled and leaned forward. “Luckily my brother and I have found our cash cow.”
“But?”
The man’s smile seemed to widen. “But, we need to make sure things keep moving in and out.”
“And you need someone to make sure the authorities look the other way?”
“I knew you were smart the moment I laid eyes on you,” the man stated, his smile almost looking like a clown. “You won’t have to do much, just keep things off the radar. I’ll give you our transport schedule and you make sure the trucks aren’t stopped. You also make sure no one gets too interested in our warehouse.”
Andy thought about it a moment. For once in his life he wanted to have things he wasn’t still paying off. For once he could afford do to whatever he wanted to that night, no dinner made up of a small bag of crisps and a pint, but actual steaks and potatoes. For once, Andy decided to live on the edge. He held out his hand and shook the strange man’s hand.
The arrangement only lasted a couple of weeks, but Andy had lived a little and then had saved up nearly £2000. It was kept in a safe place inside his flat, he wasn’t stupid enough to leave a paper trail. “Carl” would be upset about what happened with the transport that morning, but there was no way Andy could hide a lorry flipping on the main roadway. “Carl” was on his own. At least now that it was over, he didn’t have to worry about accidentally eating that dodgy meat.
Series: Torchwood
Characters: PC Andy
Rating: PG
Beta: luvinthe88and20
Spoilers: Meat (TW 2.4)
Disclaimer: I do not own Torchwood or the characters therein, they belong to the BBC and RTD. Any original characters and places are my property.
Summary: Andy could be the bad guy for once with the right motivation.
Author's Note: Written for the tw_lucky_7 prompt of "greed."
Money Makes The World Go Round
Andy dropped into the back booth at the pub. Running his hands over his face, Andy felt tired. He didn’t even bother taking off his grey hoodie. He motioned to the waitress and she started making her way over to him with a freshly pulled pint.
He nearly gulped down the first half of the pint in one swig. He should have already been home hours ago, plopped down in front of the telly with a decent meal. Now he’d be lucky to catch the late movie and suck down some ramen. The fact that except for a cup of yoghurt, the ramen was the only edible thing he could afford at the moment, did not cheer him.
He should have been able to clock off and head out at a normal time, but his life didn’t exactly constitute normal anymore. There came the damn overtime with barely any extra pay, and the fact that after all these years he was still a dang PC. He could hear it in his head, Detective Inspector Davidson. It had a nice ring to it.
Then there was bloody Torchwood. He didn’t know who liked fobbing him off more: all of Torchwood or just Gwen Cooper. Tonight’s little escapade was par for the course. Get called to a scene five minutes before he was supposed to clock out and then something seems odd, so he needs to hold down the fort while the Torchwood cavalry arrives. They don’t even pay him any heed, but at least Harkness seems to recognise him as a fellow human being, actually looking at him. All Gwen did was order him around. How hard was one little “thanks Andy?”
Spotting the waitress headed his way with another pint, Andy waved her off. He couldn’t afford a second pint. Pulling out his wallet, he took out the last fiver he had until payday, which was three days away. Sighing, Andy left the whole thing on the table - times were hard all around and she was a good girl with bills of her own. Grabbing his duffel from the seat next to him, Andy headed home.
Manoeuvring through the flat without turning on a light, Andy flopped down onto the beleaguered sofa, remote for the telly in his hand. He clicked it on, not even paying attention to the programme that droned on in the background. Unzipping his duffel, Andy pulled out a thick envelope that had been handed to him earlier in the day. He became slackjawed as he opened the envelope and looked at a stack of 100 fivers. He couldn’t believe it.
The young guy that ran into him at the cafe while Andy popped in to get a tea had given it to him. He had seemed rather squirrely, and rather insistent on talking with Andy, but Andy hadn’t had the time. The brown-haired man had said he would meet with Andy at the same cafe at 11, and shoved the envelope into his hands. Andy had dismissed the guy as odd and nearly forgot about the envelope until now.
He had never had so much cash in his hands at one time before. Andy shook his head in disbelief. This was utter bollocks! PC Andy Davidson had some bloke in a corduroy suit jacket trying to buy him off. Oh sure, a copper on the take was not unusual - Andy knew of four other in the Cardiff department alone - but could he be one of them? Holding the wad of bills in his hand, Andy liked how it felt. Being able to pay some bills and even have money left over would be very nice.
It was nearly 4:00 a.m. by the time Andy roused himself up from the sofa and shuffled off to his bedroom. He would meet with the man at 11:00 a.m. later that day. Andy tossed and turned for several hours, finally getting up around 9:00. He took a leisurely shower and treated himself to breakfast at the little cafe where he intended to meet this bloke. Finishing up his toast, Andy had not felt this full and satiated in a long time.
“Tastes good, doesn’t it mate?” the guy from yesterday said as he slid into the booth across from Andy.
“It does,” Andy replied, looking the guy up and down. He was wiry with muscles, but Andy knew he could still take him down.
“So? How have things been? A little tough with the economy, eh mate?” The strange man looked at ease, lounging against the fake leather of the booth.
“Wouldn’t it be the same for everyone?” Andy replied.
“You would think.” The man smiled and leaned forward. “Luckily my brother and I have found our cash cow.”
“But?”
The man’s smile seemed to widen. “But, we need to make sure things keep moving in and out.”
“And you need someone to make sure the authorities look the other way?”
“I knew you were smart the moment I laid eyes on you,” the man stated, his smile almost looking like a clown. “You won’t have to do much, just keep things off the radar. I’ll give you our transport schedule and you make sure the trucks aren’t stopped. You also make sure no one gets too interested in our warehouse.”
Andy thought about it a moment. For once in his life he wanted to have things he wasn’t still paying off. For once he could afford do to whatever he wanted to that night, no dinner made up of a small bag of crisps and a pint, but actual steaks and potatoes. For once, Andy decided to live on the edge. He held out his hand and shook the strange man’s hand.
The arrangement only lasted a couple of weeks, but Andy had lived a little and then had saved up nearly £2000. It was kept in a safe place inside his flat, he wasn’t stupid enough to leave a paper trail. “Carl” would be upset about what happened with the transport that morning, but there was no way Andy could hide a lorry flipping on the main roadway. “Carl” was on his own. At least now that it was over, he didn’t have to worry about accidentally eating that dodgy meat.