Fic: Gene and the Sheep, green cortina, dakfinv
Title: Gene and the Sheep
Author: dak
Word Count: 1574 words
Rating: green cortina
Warnings: angst
Summary: Gene has an odd encounter with an unexpected outcome.
A/N: Because there's something wrong with my brain. Will only make sense if you've read Sam and the Sheep and, to a lesser extent, Chopped and 5 Times Shaun Wished Sam Spoke Sheep.
“Gene!”
“Hm?”
“Gene, come here!”
“I’m watching the sport!”
“Gene! There’s a sheep in the back garden.”
Gene set down his glass of whisky and reluctantly walked to the back room.
“What’re you on about, woman?” he sighed, as he strode up to his wife.
“Look!” she pointed out the window. “I came downstairs wanting to check on my rose bushes, and it was just standing there.”
Gene, hoping his missus hadn’t completely lost her mind, glanced out the window. She wasn’t losing her mind, but maybe he was. Out there, in the center of the garden, staring back at them through their window, was a sheep.
“See?” she gasped. “Where did it come from?”
“Don’t know,” Gene shrugged, “but we better send it back ‘fore it mucks up me grass,” he walked towards the back door, but his wife pulled him back.
“You can’t go out there.”
“Why not? ‘S just a sheep.”
“Oh, but they’re nasty creatures. Miranda’s mother’s sister lived on a farm and she said they’ll bite and snap and charge you if they think you’re dangerous.”
Gene carefully removed his wife’s hand from his arm.
“It’s just a sheep, Margie,” he repeated, and reached for the door. Gene took four steps into the garden, then stopped. The sheep hadn’t even moved. “Alright, go on then. Shoo!” he waved at it. It continued to stare. “I said move it. This ain’t your garden. Go!” he shouted in his best Guv voice. The animal refused to listen. “Listen, you mangy little piece of mutton. If I have to step one more foot into this garden, I’ll...”
Gene swore the sheep sighed. He didn’t know if it was possible for a sheep to sigh, but if it was, this one did. Then, it slowly turned and walked out the open back gate.
“Is it gone? What did you say to it?” Margaret asked as she ran outside.
“I think I know that sheep,” Gene stared at the open gate.
“Don’t be silly, Gene. It was just a sheep.”
*
Come Monday morning, Gene had completely forgotten about their odd encounter. That was, he had forgotten until he climbed into the Cortina, started the engine, and saw the sheep standing directly in front of the car, staring at him through the windshield. There was nothing to indicate it was the same sheep - no identifiable marks of any sort - but Gene somehow knew it was.
The sheep, knowing Gene was watching, turned and began walking down the street. When the Cortina didn’t follow, it turned its head and stared. And stared. And stared. Gene swallowed nervously and moved the car forward. The sheep seemed satisfied, looked forward and began walking. Gene followed it to the end of the street, but when it went right, he quickly turned left and sped off in the opposite direction.
He made it to the station in record time. Upon exiting the car, he glanced about, making sure the only fuzzy white fluff he saw was cleaning girl Gena’s jumper. He hurried inside and up to his office before anyone could ask why he looked flushed. Shedding his coat, he noticed a note on his desk indicating DI Tyler had called out sick. Served the bastard right considering the amount of alcohol Gene had seen him consume over the weekend.
The rest of the morning progressed normally and Gene began to relax. He sent Ray and Chris out on minor calls, had Cartwright handle the paperwork, and remained in his office with a newspaper and a cuppa. So it was the office was empty when he heard an odd snort in the hall behind him. He lowered the paper, waited, then returned to his reading. Not thirty seconds later, he heard it again. Setting the paper down completely, he walked to his back door, pushed it open, and saw the sheep standing in the center of the corridor, staring at him.
“What? What d’you want, you stupid animal?”
The sheep stared.
“Go on, then! Go back where you came from ‘fore I call me butcher.”
The sheep stared. Gene thought he saw it narrow its eyes, but since it didn’t have eyebrows, it made that hard to determine.
“I haven’t even eaten lamb in a week!” he shouted, trying to scare the animal off. It didn’t budge. “What? What is it, then?”
The sheep stared, then slowly turned around, took two steps, and looked back at Gene.
“Am I supposed to follow yeh? Is that it?”
The sheep kept staring.
“Fine. Let me grab me coat,” Gene hurried into his office. “Why am I talking to a sheep?” he grumbled as he grabbed the camelhair and his car keys. “Alright,” he said, returning to the hall. “Show me the way.”
The sheep looked forward and started running. Hoping no one in the station was watching, Gene followed the thing down the stairs and out the back entrance of the station. It ran so fast, Gene was barely able to keep up.
“Slow down, you filthy beast,” Gene argued, hurrying out to his car.
“Coulda said the same for you, Guv,” Phyllis snapped as Gene nearly ran into her on his way to the Cortina.
“Shut it, Phyllis,” he muttered, throwing open the driver’s side door.
“Where you off to?” she inquired, making her way up the steps.
“Tip...from an...informant,” he lied and slammed his door shut. He spotted the sheep standing across the road. It took off to the right. “Bonkers. I’ve gone completely bonkers,” he sighed as he threw the car in gear and drove after the animal.
It only took three turns to realize where the sheep was leading him. Worry began gnawing at his gut, and he sped up. Though he lost sight of the sheep, he saw it again when he pulled up to Tyler’s flat. It was standing in front of the doorway of the building, bleating nervously. Gene didn’t even close his car door, but ran immediately to the building. The sheep stepped aside as he ran inside and to his DI’s door.
“Sam? Tyler? You in there?” he banged on the shoddy door, and received no response. Sam had called in sick. He was supposed to be home sick. “ ‘Nuff of this,” Gene decided and slammed his shoulder into the door, bursting into the tiny flat.
“Shit.”
Sam was lying unconscious on the floor, a small puddle of vomit near his head. Gene kicked the empty whisky and pill bottles out of his way and crouched beside his deputy.
“Sam? Sammy?” he shouted, shaking him. “Wake up, Sam. C’mon.”
He grabbed Tyler by the shoulders and propped him up against the bed.
“Sam. Sam!” he slapped him in the face. Sam’s eyes fluttered. “There you go. C’mon, Sammy-boy.”
“G-gene,” he slurred.
“That’s it. Wake up, Tyler. Look at me. Wake up.”
Sam’s head flopped from side to side as he tried to stir himself awake.
“I...I din’t mean to,” he lazily shook his head. “Ac...ci...dent,” he said and vomited again, barely missing his Guv.
“I know, Sam. Can you stand? Hm? We need to get you to hospital.”
“Sh-she made me,” he frowned, waving his hand towards the telly. “I din’t...want to.”
“Okay, Sammy. Okay,” Gene helped Sam to shaky feet and dragged him out the door. Sam could barely stay conscious, let alone walk, but he was doing his best to remain on his feet. They finally made it to the building’s main entrance, where the sheep was still standing. At the doorway, Sam tripped and would have fallen, had his hand not landed on the beast’s fuzzy back. Sam looked down and recognized the animal.
“Sh-shaun?...Gene, look, ‘s Shaun,” he grinned, then fainted.
Gene scooped him up and ran him to the Cortina. Shaun ran after them. After loading Sam into the passenger’s seat, he stared at the sheep, then opened the back door.
“Alright. In with yeh. But don’t mess the upholstery.”
Shaun bleated, and Gene closed the door. He drove the Cortina straight up to the A&E entrance, opening the door for Shaun and then Sam, who was still unconscious. Gene hurried inside with his deputy in his arms, making up a story along the way. He noticed the sheep waited outside.
*
Gene walked outside, lit a fag, and saw Shaun standing next to the Cortina, which had been moved (against Gene’s will) by hospital staff. The sheep looked nervous, except it was hard to tell because it had no eyebrows. As Gene came closer, it looked up at him with a sad glance.
“Baaaa?” it asked. Gene felt entirely stupid doing it, but he answered the sheep.
“He’ll be alright. Needs a day or two, but he’ll be fine. Physically,” he sighed. Normally, he would have offered a cigarette, but he didn’t think sheep smoked. The sheep continued to stare. “I’ll take better care of him. Needs help, I’ll give it to him,” Gene promised. “Didn’t know how bad he was,” he looked away, ashamed. He felt something nuzzle his hand. He didn’t need to look down to know what it was. “Thanks,” he muttered quietly, stroking the sheep’s head.
The sheep baa’ed loudly.
“I said thank you,” Gene spoke more clearly. The sheep nuzzled his hand again, then walked slowly away. Gene finished his cigarette then walked back into the hospital to check on Sam, knowing he would never eat lamb again.