Ficathon: The Hardest Word by momentarylapse8. Sam/Gene Green Cortina
Title: The Hardest Word
Rating: Green Cortina, (1 naughty word, bad Gene)
Pairing: Gene/Sam
Notes: Not beta'd as I only finished it tonight. I have been accused of excessive procrastination in the past. Give me a deadline and I will meet it. Up close and personal
Length; 2093
Summary: For the prompt: Going out for a meal, post-finale, Sam/Gene Does exactly what it says on the tin. With a massive huge thank you to elfbert without whom this would not have been posted as I would have been forced to throw my laptop out of the window in a fit of rage
'I'm transferring you back to Hyde, Sam. Had to do this here, I don't want a fight and i know i'dve got one at the station'
He should have known it was a set-up, Gene Hunt being nice to him? Gene Hunt taking him out for dinner to say 'thanks fer saving me life, Sammy-boy'. But he had been so happy to be back, so bloody deliriously happy, he had only seen what he wanted to. Some bloody detective he was.
'Please don't do this Gene'.
Sam's plea came out louder than he intended and several other diners turned to look at the pair. Lowering his voice he leant in across the table, towards the big man, and continued.
'Gene, please, please I beg you, don't transfer me out. Things will be different now, I promise. Things have changed for me. Please give me one more chance and I swear I won't let you down.'
'Never dreamed you ever would, Sammy. But you did. You proved me wrong, and you know I don't like being wrong. Least of all when it's about a colleague and a member of my team'
Leaning in across the table in a mirror of the smaller man's actions, Gene dropped his voice lower,
'Least of all when it's about a friend.'
At this point their discussion was interrupted by the waiter bringing them their starters and both men leaned back in their chairs, out of the way of the newly delivered plates. Sam took the opportunity to survey the room and realised to most people this probably looked like a lovers tiff (well if they weren't both blokes and this wasn't 1973) rather than the devastating, life changing conversation it really was.
He returned his gaze to the table at it was met by the cold, dead eyes of a large prawn stuck out of the middle of his silver bowl of prawn cocktail. Not 10 minutes ago ordering this classic 70s dish had made Sam giggle (which had made Gene frown) but now the thought of having to eat a single bite made his stomach turn. Gene, of course, shared none of Sam's qualms and was busy polishing off his like a man starved for several weeks.
This grated more than a little on Sam's nerves and he wondered how Gene could remain so unaffected by any of the conversation so far. He thought Sam had betrayed him and so was sending the accused as far away as he could manage (right now Hyde seemed to Sam like it was on a different continent and not at all like it was a drive of less than 10 miles.) And yet the man showed no anger, no resentment just a kind of resigned disappointment. This man who so often wore his heart on his sleeve was acting as though he had left it on a different jacket tonight.
As Gene leant over to grab Sam's untouched starter he spoke and seemed to be reading Sam's thoughts.
'Hurts don't it? The first time you realise how little you mean to someone you care about'
'Gene, I...'
Gene raised his hand to silence Sam.
'I'm really not interested in hearing any excuses or reasons right now. Let's just eat and leave. You know I don't like to eat alone, so let's just get this over with as easy as possible, yes?'
Confused, upset but resolutely silent, Sam watched as the dirty plates were taken away and their main courses arrived. Steak and chips. Of course, but then what other option is there at a Berni Inn?
As the waiter walked back towards the kitchen and through the doors Sam's eyes fell to gazing around the room, taking in the appalling decor through a cloud of smoke. The restaurant was dark, and to Sam's eyes, uninviting, yet everyone was dressed in their evening best. If Sam wasn't feeling completely dead inside right now he might have appreciated the humour in the situation. The abundance of polyester and nylon, the plethora of paisley and plaid, and the air thick with hairspray and the lingering smell of brylcreem all combined to create a modern man's version of hell. But yet Sam had chosen to come back, he wanted to be here, in this time and with these people. Well not with all of these people especially. But certainly with the one in front of him now.
Sam watched listlessly as Gene demolished another plate of food. The thick steak cooked to Gene's version of perfection was oozing blood and staining the few chips left on his plate. Sam poked half-heartedly at his, in an attempt to show willing and to try and not look like he was in any way sulking. But it was a pointless exercise and he gave it up fairly quickly.
'Shame you had to have yours turned to leather, good bit o' steak that was.'
Gene had commented when he ordered that no man should have his steak 'well-done' unless he wanted the whole world to know he was a fairy, and he apparently couldn't resist hammering this point home again now.
'Even the wife used to like a bit of moo left in hers when we came here. You really are a sappy girl, Tyler.'
Ice cream followed the insults and Sam didn't buck the trend of the evening, eating not a single mouthful. Yet again Gene seemed not to care about Sam's lack of appetite, and in fact seemed grateful for it, as his 3 course meal became a 5 in one swift movement across the table.
'Got to keep me strength up, Sam. I have plans for the evening.'
'Right, yeah, drinking pints and playing darts, strenuous activities both.'
'Shut up Sam, and pay the nice man as I seem to have come out without my wallet.'
It seemed utterly pointless to point out that he could see it in Gene's pocket, as up 'til now the abuse had been confined to verbal and Sam had no wish to force Gene to step it up to physical. So grudgingly he pulled out his own wallet and threw the cost of the meal and a generous tip by 70s standards on to the table.
He slumped back in his chair and watched as the waiter brought Gene's coat back from the cloakroom for him. As Gene stood up and allowed himself to be helped in to the beige camel-hair Sam mused on how much he loved that coat. He remembered how soft it was, from the occasions he had been close to it, thought about how it smelled of smoke and Brut and Gene. Watching the big man move with such surprising grace his mind fell to the wearer of the coat. He was what Sam had really come back for. He was everything Sam had ever wanted in his life, a strong guiding figure (though not necessarily a moral one), a good friend and someone who refused to let Sam become too caught up in himself. Sam laughed more around Gene then anybody else he had ever spent time with. He knew no-one and nothing in this time for longer than the time he had been in a coma, but they were more real to him than people he had known his whole life when he had been awake. And he was about to lose it all.
Leaving the restaurant Sam watched Gene walk towards his beloved Cortina. They were on the outskirts of town and not too far from Sam's flat, so a lift had not even been mentioned. Sam knew that once that beautiful camel-hair coat and it's surly owner got into the car and drove off it would be the last time he would ever see either one.
He racked his brains for what to say to make them stay. He thought of all the reasons he had given Gene over the past few days for the way he had acted. He had explained so many times how he thought he was doing the right thing, but that being away was harder than staying. He had tried to make excuses about his state of mind and how that had changed. In the end he had just got cross, tired of repeating this was a one off. He had got sick of telling everyone again and again that he had made a decision to stay.
Sam had run out of ideas. He just didn't know what else to do or say, he had tried reasoning, explanations, assurances, anger, excuses and even bribery in an attempt to at least get Chris or Annie back on his side. He didn't think there was anything left to try.
'I'm sorry Gene.'
The older man stopped in his walk to the car, turned back to face his junior and returned to him a lot quicker than he had left. Before he could react Sam was doubled up in pain on the floor, Gene having landed one hell of a punch right in his gut.
'Well that wasn't so hard, was it Sammy?'
Sam wanted to reply that 'yes, actually it was and I think you might have ruptured something'. He chose instead to stay quite as Gene loomed over him, half predatory, half protecting.
'Sam I didn't want excuses or reasons or fairy bloody discussions about your poxy 'state of mind'. I just wanted to know you were sorry. I know it won't happen again, that look in your eyes when you came out of the tunnel told us as much. I just wanted to know you were sorry. See some bloody contrition from you. See you make a proper fucking sincere apology just once, for just one of these little episodes of yours.'
He paused and stared at Sam so long, Sam was sure he was reading the thoughts off the back of his skull. Apparently convinced by what he saw Gene leant down and hauled Sam to his feet by his collar.
'I just wanted you to say sorry and mean it Sam.'
The hand still on Sam's collar moved to his shoulder with the thumb resting on the point between Sam's collar bones. As Sam swallowed Gene felt the movement under his hand and tightened his grip a small amount. The pressure made Sam flinch slightly and he took in a short breath of surprise. To his credit he stood his ground gamely as Gene took one step further forward and put his left hand half round the back of Sam's neck and half on the side of his jaw.
'I just wanted you to be sorry.'
For an eternity they stood like that, gazes locked, breathing rapid and pulses racing. His chest rising and falling like he had been running Gene leant forward and gently rested his forehead against Sam's, finally breaking the intense gaze and closing his eyes. This new contact seemed to bring Sam back to life and conscious thought and he moved his arms to place his hands either side of Gene's waist, under the warmth of his favourite coat.
'I'm sorry I scared you Gene. I'm not going anywhere. I'm not leaving you, not ever again. I am here for as long as you want me. I really am sorry'
With his eyes closed still Gene raised his head and kissed the place on Sam's forehead where his had just been. He dipped his head again but released his grip on Sam' neck and face and took a step back. He looked at the ground between them then back at Sam before he nodded his head once, apparently in agreement with some internal dialogue.
'Get in the car Sam, I'll take you home. Let you work on that apology'
'I just said sorry, what more do you want me to say?'
'Oh yes, you've said plenty Sammy-boy. Now I want you to prove to the Gene Genie just how sorry you really are.'
With a wicked grin he fished his keys from his coat pocket and tossed them in the air, caught them and turned his back on a very confused looking Sam. However his picky pain DI seemed to have earned his badge and not got it out of a cereal box, as by the time Gene reached the car Sam was only a step behind him.
Sam's own grin threatened to split his face in two has he settled into the Cortina's comfortable seats.
He rest his head back and let Gene drive him in to the night.
