Fic: An Ideal For Living (1/3), Green Cortina, dakfinv
Title: An Ideal For Living (1/3) - Prologue
Author: dak
Word Count: 571
Rating: Green Cortina here, will most likely rise to Blue for second and third portions
Spoilers: SET AFTER 2x08, haven't seen the finale, don't read this
Warnings: only mild cursing here
Pairing: Sam/Annie
Disclaimer: As much as I've begged and pleaded, BBC has still refused to sell me the rights, gosh darnit.
A/N: A fic that's in no way related to "Steady As She Goes." Honest! But I promise that this one will not go on for an indefinite period of time. See, the thing is this bunny's been assaulting my brain for a seriously long period of time and I kept pushing it aside, not wanting to write it until I finished my other fic. Seeing as how my other fic doesn't seem to be ending anytime soon, this bunny was getting pretty angry and today forced me at pen-point to write it or else suffer dire consequences. So, here is part one. It's very short, since it's only the prologue, but the second two chapters will be longer. I can't promise it'll updated as quickly as my other one but I wanted to get the first part out there and see what you thought of the idea. Title is from Joy Division's self-released debut EP.
Summary: This is a fic in three parts - Prologue, Gene's POV, and Sam's POV - about a bank robbery/hostage situation where Gene is stuck on the outside trying to solve the crisis, and Sam is stuck on the inside, a hostage himself.
It was something he had never thought about before. Simple, really. A typical fact of life that he should’ve embraced sooner. Of course if he had, if he’d even considered doing this before returning to 1973, it would have meant admitting that this place was real. Well it was real. It was his life now. It was all starting to get pretty confusing the more he thought about it so he decided not to dwell on the idea.
The fact was, in all the time he’d spent in 1973 prior to the train robbery, Sam Tyler hadn’t thought once about opening a bank account. All the checks he’d received from the station had been kept neat and tidy in a little box in his dilapidated kitchen. Well, all except the first few. Those he had simply chucked out in fits of disbelief and anger. Later he had cashed a few of them once he realized he did need to eat and drink in this is it or isn't it coma-induced world. But opening a bank account? That had seemed too permanent. Too real.
Once he returned, once he decided to settle in this year, he realized a bank account was the responsible, proper thing to do. Several things had led to this decision. One was that it had turned out C-Division in Hyde had been paying for his flat. Sam had discovered this after being evicted by his landlord five weeks ago when the rent checks had stopped coming through. Funny how he had never thought before about how his rent was being paid. Annie had been gracious enough to house him since, a very convenient situation given that their relationship had been progressing along quite nicely since his return.
This move had led to the second reason. Annie had basically laughed in his face when he let slip what he did with his paychecks. Not cruelly of course, Annie could never be cruel, but it had truly made Sam realize that if he wanted to make a real life here he would have to start accepting the mundane practicalities that arose in a life set in any decade.
The third reason was that the payroll department was beginning to nag him about his checks not being cashed. They kept complaining it was messing with their books and Sam knew if he continued to upset them his little financial problem would be the next big gossip item round the station. He didn’t really need his officers thinking he was nuttier than he already was.
So it came to be that on a lovely Friday afternoon when Sam had the rare day off from murders, assaults, and kidnappings, he found himself not outside enjoying the fresh air and rare sunshine spreading over Manchester, but inside the stuffy lobby of the Barclay’s on the high street, waiting in an interminable line with a box a paychecks, preparing to open his first 1973 bank account.
As he checked his wrist watch for what seemed like the billionth time that minute, his mind wandering to thoughts of where he would take Annie for dinner later that evening, Sam was abruptly thrown back into reality as the sound of gunfire pierced the peaceful air.
“Nobody move! This is a robbery!”
Sam had to stop from rolling his eyes as the gunmen forced him and the rest of the screaming customers to the floor, settling for a tired sigh instead.
“Oh shit.”
___
Part 2