Fic: 5 Times Sam Moved House, green cortina, dakfinv
Title: 5 Times Sam Moved House
Author: dak
Word Count: 1828
Rating: green cortina
Warnings: mild angst, swearing
Pairing: could be gen, could be Sam/Gene depending how your slash goggles are adjusted
Summary: Does what it says on the tin.
A/N: For culf , who I'll soon be torturing in person on a regular basis.
1)
Daddy was home. Sammy was so excited. It had been weeks since he’d last seen Daddy. He was still getting over the mumps, so Mummy didn’t want him out of bed, but Sammy could hear his voice below. He couldn’t help but crawl out of bed and sneak to the stairs.
He peeked down. Sure enough, that was Daddy’s coat hanging by the door.
“…money, Vic?”
“I couldn’t get it this time. But it’s alright.”
“How can you say it’s alright? Mr. Carroway has been here every day. There’s been threats, policemen…”
“Policemen? Who? Why?”
“It doesn’t matter. What are we supposed to do now?”
“We’ll leave. Oh, Ruth. Don’t cry. Look, we’ve done it before, haven’t we? Now we’ll pack everything up, spend the night at your sister’s. Me car’s out front. We’ll take whatever we can. Alright?”
“When, Vic? When will it be alright?”
“Soon, sweetheart. Very soon. Promise.”
Daddy moved towards the staircase and Sammy scurried back to his bedroom. He’d only just made it under the covers when Daddy opened the door.
“Hey there, Sammy,” Daddy smiled. “Happy to see me? Mum says you’ve been sick. Feeling better now?”
Sammy shook his head yes.
“There’s a good lad. Say, you feel well enough to have an adventure?”
Sammy said nothing. He and Mummy had been on a lot of adventures with Daddy. Sammy didn’t like them. Adventures meant they were leaving and never coming back.
“Cheer up, Sam. Be a big boy. Say, if you’re feeling better next Saturday, I bet I could find us two tickets to the United, City match. How about that? Want to see United take down those City scum?”
Sammy smiled.
“I thought so. Now, pack up as much as you can and I’ll help you carry it down. Have to be off in…” Daddy nervously checked his watch. “…Twenty minutes. Hurry it up, okay?”
Exactly twenty minutes later, Sammy, Mummy, and Daddy were crammed in the small car and headed to Auntie Heather’s. It didn’t matter where they left from. Adventures always ended at Auntie Heather’s. Sammy cried when he realized he’d forgotten his football. Daddy told him he’d buy him another one. Mummy said “with what.”
Ivanhoe curled tight in his lap, Sammy fell asleep. When he woke, the adventure was already over. This time.
2)
“Here you are. You’ll be sharing a room with a Gordon Crawley. You’re due in the canteen in an hour to start orientation. Wear your uniform. Don’t be late.”
The sergeant left abruptly, leaving Sam holding his two bags, new uniform, and keys to the room. Laying the bags at his feet, Sam carefully opened the door. His roommate wasn’t here yet, giving Sam the first choice of bed. He chose the one on the left only because the mattress was slightly less lumpy.
After putting the provided sheets on his new bed, Sam hung his uniform in the small, rectangular wardrobe and began unpacking his two bags. The first thing he set out was a framed picture of him and his mum. Her smile lit up the dull, whitewashed walls and made Sam feel more at home in the barracks.
He’d just started on his second bag when his roommate stumbled in.
“Well, well. Hello there. Gordon Crawley. Nice to meet you.”
“Sam Tyler.”
They shook hands.
“Well Sam Tyler, it’s a pleasure.” Crawley threw his things onto the empty bed and collapsed beside them. “Had a horrible ride from Bristol. Trains out all over the place. Thought I were going to walk me arse all the way here. Where you from?”
“Manchester.”
“Not so bad your then, was it? Well, the room ain’t much, but I were expecting worse, you know? Throw a few posters up, give this place a little personality, it’ll be alright.” Crawley sat up. ”How long till we have to be somewheres?”
“Fifteen minutes. The canteen.”
“Brilliant. Just in time. Mind if I change? Suppose you’ll have to get used to it if you do. ‘M not running to the showers every time I need to change me shirt.”
“Doesn’t bother me,” Sam shrugged. He went to his wardrobe and began changing into his own uniform.
“Well, isn’t that nice?”
Sam turned to see Crawley holding the picture.
“That your mum?”
Sam nodded as he buttoned his shirt.
“What? Don’t have a girlfriend’s to set out? I’m not living with a mummy’s boy, am I? Right. I’m off. See you there.”
Crawley scuttled out of the room, leaving Sam on his own. Sam finished with his shirt and grabbed his cap. He started to leave when he doubled back. He picked up his photo and stared at his mum’s smiling face. Then, he slipped the picture in a drawer and headed for the canteen, ready for his first day as a policeman.
3)
“It’s…clean. Somewhat.”
“It’s not so bad, Mum. And rent’s low enough I don’t need a flatmate.”
“Well that’s good because I’m not sure who else would want to live here.”
His mum set a box on the rickety table. Sam was immune to her skepticism.
“All it needs is some fresh curtains. A few pieces of furniture. It’ll be great in no time.”
“Still Sam. I wish you would have let me see it before you signed the lease.”
“If I had, you would’ve said no.”
“That’s my point.”
Sam rolled his eyes and headed outside to grab another box. When he returned, his mum was already unpacking the two they’d carried in earlier.
“You know you could’ve moved home until you saved enough for a decent place.”
“I know.”
“I can’t understand this…desire of yours to be alone as soon as possible.”
“I don’t want to be alone, Mum. I want to be independent.”
“Hm.”
Sam rolled his eyes again.
“Come on. It’s really not so bad. We lived in worse places when I was younger.”
“Exactly. And I worked hard so we could have the nice house we have now.”
“Mum…”
“And I’m sorry love, but I can’t understand why you’d choose this place over...”
Sam swallowed his pride and hugged his mother.
“Because I need to be on my own. It’s time. You know that. And it’s not like I won’t be over every week for Sunday dinner.”
“You say that now.” She was half-teasing, half-serious. Sam kissed her on the forehead.
“I’m going to get the rest of the boxes.”
Several hours later, half-unpacked, his mum finally coaxed into leaving, Sam grabbed a beer, switched on the telly, and sunk into his dusty new sofa. Feet up on the table, he smiled. This was it. His own place. It was real. He was a man, now. Sam sipped his beer and smiled. Yes, Sam Tyler - out on his own. Finally. He was so happy about it all, that it took several more hours before he felt alone.
4)
“As you can see it’s a lovely unit. Cathedral ceilings. All new appliances. Washer and dryer are this way. Master bedroom with bathroom and walk-in closet. Second bedroom or office, whatever suits your fancy. Large living room with floor to ceiling windows.”
“It’s gorgeous,” Sam agreed. “Beautiful building. The brochure, it said this used to be a mill?”
“An old textile factory. Shut down in the Seventies and been empty ever since. Well, at least until the developers bought it. Lots of families have moved in, as well as young professionals like yourself. Very quiet. And peaceful.”
“So, when can I move in?”
Two weeks later and the flat was his. Sam hadn’t needed much convincing. He had loved it the moment he saw it, especially the kitchen.
It didn’t take the movers long to carry in all the boxes and furniture. Sam unpacked his kitchen utensils and pans first, ran to the nearby Tesco’s, and immediately began cooking his first meal in his new home.
He felt at ease in his new kitchen, almost like a professional chef by the time he was finished. As soon as he was fully unpacked, he’d invite Maya over for dinner. She would love the place, or so he hoped. Really hoped. There was plenty of space in his bedroom closet. More than he needed for himself. And she would love the view.
His kitchen table covered in boxes, Sam settled on the couch with his plate and a glass of wine. He propped his feet on the new coffee table and reveled in the peace of his new home. His mobile rang. He set the untouched food on the coffee table and pulled the phone from his pocket.
“DCI Tyler…Where?...I’ll be right there.”
After storing the food in the refrigerator and pouring the wine back into the bottle, Sam grabbed his coat and his badge and headed for the scene. He’d have years to enjoy his new flat. Tonight, he had work.
5)
It smelled of beer and rubbish. The bins hadn’t been emptied in a fortnight. Dishes were piled high in the sink. The whole place certainly hadn’t been cleaned in weeks, maybe months.
“How can you live like this?”
“Been busy,” Gene shrugged.
Sam dropped his bags by the door.
“Right. I’m not moving in until this place is clean.”
“And who do you think is supposed to do said cleaning?” Gene handed him a dish rag.
“Oh you’re joking.”
“Get a move on, Gladys. Else you’ll be back in that old shithole of yours tonight.”
“At the moment, that shithole would be a marked improvement.”
“Fine. Piss off, then. Don’t bother me any.” Gene disappeared into the kitchen. Sam reluctantly followed.
Gene was busy searching for a clean glass. In the end, he gave up and drank straight from the bottle.
“Have you really not done any housework since she left?”
“Emptied the bins once or twice. I think. And done me clothes.”
“Suppose that’s a start.”
Gene drank from the bottle again, then held it out for Sam. Sam crossed the sticky floor, took the bottle, and had a drink himself.
“Well, we better get started.” He handed the bottle back to Gene.
“We?”
“I’m your housemate, Gene. Not your housekeeper. Get used to it. Have any dish soap?”
“Erm, possibly.”
Sam located a near-empty bottle of Fairy Liquid in the cabinet under the sink, along with a pair of rubber gloves.
“I wash,” he said, slipping on the gloves. “You dry. Once the sink’s empty we can go about cleaning the rest of the kitchen. And if you do your fair share…”
“That’s a big if, Sammy-boy.”
“I may be nice and cook us something to eat.”
“Best get washing then,” Gene said, throwing a towel over his shoulder. “I’m bloody starving.”
That night, they’d been so busy cleaning Sam hadn’t any time to unpack his own things. Yet, as he and Gene shared a meal and a laugh at the clean kitchen table, Sam felt more at home than any other place he’d ever lived.
Author: dak
Word Count: 1828
Rating: green cortina
Warnings: mild angst, swearing
Pairing: could be gen, could be Sam/Gene depending how your slash goggles are adjusted
Summary: Does what it says on the tin.
A/N: For culf , who I'll soon be torturing in person on a regular basis.
1)
Daddy was home. Sammy was so excited. It had been weeks since he’d last seen Daddy. He was still getting over the mumps, so Mummy didn’t want him out of bed, but Sammy could hear his voice below. He couldn’t help but crawl out of bed and sneak to the stairs.
He peeked down. Sure enough, that was Daddy’s coat hanging by the door.
“…money, Vic?”
“I couldn’t get it this time. But it’s alright.”
“How can you say it’s alright? Mr. Carroway has been here every day. There’s been threats, policemen…”
“Policemen? Who? Why?”
“It doesn’t matter. What are we supposed to do now?”
“We’ll leave. Oh, Ruth. Don’t cry. Look, we’ve done it before, haven’t we? Now we’ll pack everything up, spend the night at your sister’s. Me car’s out front. We’ll take whatever we can. Alright?”
“When, Vic? When will it be alright?”
“Soon, sweetheart. Very soon. Promise.”
Daddy moved towards the staircase and Sammy scurried back to his bedroom. He’d only just made it under the covers when Daddy opened the door.
“Hey there, Sammy,” Daddy smiled. “Happy to see me? Mum says you’ve been sick. Feeling better now?”
Sammy shook his head yes.
“There’s a good lad. Say, you feel well enough to have an adventure?”
Sammy said nothing. He and Mummy had been on a lot of adventures with Daddy. Sammy didn’t like them. Adventures meant they were leaving and never coming back.
“Cheer up, Sam. Be a big boy. Say, if you’re feeling better next Saturday, I bet I could find us two tickets to the United, City match. How about that? Want to see United take down those City scum?”
Sammy smiled.
“I thought so. Now, pack up as much as you can and I’ll help you carry it down. Have to be off in…” Daddy nervously checked his watch. “…Twenty minutes. Hurry it up, okay?”
Exactly twenty minutes later, Sammy, Mummy, and Daddy were crammed in the small car and headed to Auntie Heather’s. It didn’t matter where they left from. Adventures always ended at Auntie Heather’s. Sammy cried when he realized he’d forgotten his football. Daddy told him he’d buy him another one. Mummy said “with what.”
Ivanhoe curled tight in his lap, Sammy fell asleep. When he woke, the adventure was already over. This time.
2)
“Here you are. You’ll be sharing a room with a Gordon Crawley. You’re due in the canteen in an hour to start orientation. Wear your uniform. Don’t be late.”
The sergeant left abruptly, leaving Sam holding his two bags, new uniform, and keys to the room. Laying the bags at his feet, Sam carefully opened the door. His roommate wasn’t here yet, giving Sam the first choice of bed. He chose the one on the left only because the mattress was slightly less lumpy.
After putting the provided sheets on his new bed, Sam hung his uniform in the small, rectangular wardrobe and began unpacking his two bags. The first thing he set out was a framed picture of him and his mum. Her smile lit up the dull, whitewashed walls and made Sam feel more at home in the barracks.
He’d just started on his second bag when his roommate stumbled in.
“Well, well. Hello there. Gordon Crawley. Nice to meet you.”
“Sam Tyler.”
They shook hands.
“Well Sam Tyler, it’s a pleasure.” Crawley threw his things onto the empty bed and collapsed beside them. “Had a horrible ride from Bristol. Trains out all over the place. Thought I were going to walk me arse all the way here. Where you from?”
“Manchester.”
“Not so bad your then, was it? Well, the room ain’t much, but I were expecting worse, you know? Throw a few posters up, give this place a little personality, it’ll be alright.” Crawley sat up. ”How long till we have to be somewheres?”
“Fifteen minutes. The canteen.”
“Brilliant. Just in time. Mind if I change? Suppose you’ll have to get used to it if you do. ‘M not running to the showers every time I need to change me shirt.”
“Doesn’t bother me,” Sam shrugged. He went to his wardrobe and began changing into his own uniform.
“Well, isn’t that nice?”
Sam turned to see Crawley holding the picture.
“That your mum?”
Sam nodded as he buttoned his shirt.
“What? Don’t have a girlfriend’s to set out? I’m not living with a mummy’s boy, am I? Right. I’m off. See you there.”
Crawley scuttled out of the room, leaving Sam on his own. Sam finished with his shirt and grabbed his cap. He started to leave when he doubled back. He picked up his photo and stared at his mum’s smiling face. Then, he slipped the picture in a drawer and headed for the canteen, ready for his first day as a policeman.
3)
“It’s…clean. Somewhat.”
“It’s not so bad, Mum. And rent’s low enough I don’t need a flatmate.”
“Well that’s good because I’m not sure who else would want to live here.”
His mum set a box on the rickety table. Sam was immune to her skepticism.
“All it needs is some fresh curtains. A few pieces of furniture. It’ll be great in no time.”
“Still Sam. I wish you would have let me see it before you signed the lease.”
“If I had, you would’ve said no.”
“That’s my point.”
Sam rolled his eyes and headed outside to grab another box. When he returned, his mum was already unpacking the two they’d carried in earlier.
“You know you could’ve moved home until you saved enough for a decent place.”
“I know.”
“I can’t understand this…desire of yours to be alone as soon as possible.”
“I don’t want to be alone, Mum. I want to be independent.”
“Hm.”
Sam rolled his eyes again.
“Come on. It’s really not so bad. We lived in worse places when I was younger.”
“Exactly. And I worked hard so we could have the nice house we have now.”
“Mum…”
“And I’m sorry love, but I can’t understand why you’d choose this place over...”
Sam swallowed his pride and hugged his mother.
“Because I need to be on my own. It’s time. You know that. And it’s not like I won’t be over every week for Sunday dinner.”
“You say that now.” She was half-teasing, half-serious. Sam kissed her on the forehead.
“I’m going to get the rest of the boxes.”
Several hours later, half-unpacked, his mum finally coaxed into leaving, Sam grabbed a beer, switched on the telly, and sunk into his dusty new sofa. Feet up on the table, he smiled. This was it. His own place. It was real. He was a man, now. Sam sipped his beer and smiled. Yes, Sam Tyler - out on his own. Finally. He was so happy about it all, that it took several more hours before he felt alone.
4)
“As you can see it’s a lovely unit. Cathedral ceilings. All new appliances. Washer and dryer are this way. Master bedroom with bathroom and walk-in closet. Second bedroom or office, whatever suits your fancy. Large living room with floor to ceiling windows.”
“It’s gorgeous,” Sam agreed. “Beautiful building. The brochure, it said this used to be a mill?”
“An old textile factory. Shut down in the Seventies and been empty ever since. Well, at least until the developers bought it. Lots of families have moved in, as well as young professionals like yourself. Very quiet. And peaceful.”
“So, when can I move in?”
Two weeks later and the flat was his. Sam hadn’t needed much convincing. He had loved it the moment he saw it, especially the kitchen.
It didn’t take the movers long to carry in all the boxes and furniture. Sam unpacked his kitchen utensils and pans first, ran to the nearby Tesco’s, and immediately began cooking his first meal in his new home.
He felt at ease in his new kitchen, almost like a professional chef by the time he was finished. As soon as he was fully unpacked, he’d invite Maya over for dinner. She would love the place, or so he hoped. Really hoped. There was plenty of space in his bedroom closet. More than he needed for himself. And she would love the view.
His kitchen table covered in boxes, Sam settled on the couch with his plate and a glass of wine. He propped his feet on the new coffee table and reveled in the peace of his new home. His mobile rang. He set the untouched food on the coffee table and pulled the phone from his pocket.
“DCI Tyler…Where?...I’ll be right there.”
After storing the food in the refrigerator and pouring the wine back into the bottle, Sam grabbed his coat and his badge and headed for the scene. He’d have years to enjoy his new flat. Tonight, he had work.
5)
It smelled of beer and rubbish. The bins hadn’t been emptied in a fortnight. Dishes were piled high in the sink. The whole place certainly hadn’t been cleaned in weeks, maybe months.
“How can you live like this?”
“Been busy,” Gene shrugged.
Sam dropped his bags by the door.
“Right. I’m not moving in until this place is clean.”
“And who do you think is supposed to do said cleaning?” Gene handed him a dish rag.
“Oh you’re joking.”
“Get a move on, Gladys. Else you’ll be back in that old shithole of yours tonight.”
“At the moment, that shithole would be a marked improvement.”
“Fine. Piss off, then. Don’t bother me any.” Gene disappeared into the kitchen. Sam reluctantly followed.
Gene was busy searching for a clean glass. In the end, he gave up and drank straight from the bottle.
“Have you really not done any housework since she left?”
“Emptied the bins once or twice. I think. And done me clothes.”
“Suppose that’s a start.”
Gene drank from the bottle again, then held it out for Sam. Sam crossed the sticky floor, took the bottle, and had a drink himself.
“Well, we better get started.” He handed the bottle back to Gene.
“We?”
“I’m your housemate, Gene. Not your housekeeper. Get used to it. Have any dish soap?”
“Erm, possibly.”
Sam located a near-empty bottle of Fairy Liquid in the cabinet under the sink, along with a pair of rubber gloves.
“I wash,” he said, slipping on the gloves. “You dry. Once the sink’s empty we can go about cleaning the rest of the kitchen. And if you do your fair share…”
“That’s a big if, Sammy-boy.”
“I may be nice and cook us something to eat.”
“Best get washing then,” Gene said, throwing a towel over his shoulder. “I’m bloody starving.”
That night, they’d been so busy cleaning Sam hadn’t any time to unpack his own things. Yet, as he and Gene shared a meal and a laugh at the clean kitchen table, Sam felt more at home than any other place he’d ever lived.