The Missus

[wajoma]

Title: The Missus
Fandom: LoM
Character/s: Missus/Gene
Word Count: 534
Rating: White Cortina - pure as the driven snow.
Spoiler warning: my own weird interpretation of the missus/gene coupling - set within 1.01. Author’s notes at end of fic (don’t cheat)
Disclaimer: Kudos to Kudos - love your work. Also, in the interests of full disclosure and extra disclaiming - I am NOT a writer, fanfic virgin here.
Summary: twue lurve.

It true she was cute, but it was her warmth that had first made him fall in love with her, and she’d seemed to sense straight away that here was a man who would always come home to her and treat her with a kindness that belied his gruff exterior.

And so she’d chosen him, moved in almost straight away and neither of them had regretted a moment of their lives together since.

The life of a copper isn’t an easy one. Knowing that at the end of the day there was someone to curl up against who would listen to all your problems without passing judgement and love you unconditionally was something that Gene cherished beyond words.

Which is why, like clock-work every evening at 10pm, whether he’d drunk his fill or not, he would say his goodnights and head home to her.

“I gotta be headed home to the missus, or I’ll never hear the end of it” said Gene as he heaved himself off the bar-stool and moved towards the pub door.

A chorus of “Night Guv” followed him out onto the street, while inside the team of journalists gave each other knowing looks, each thinking how odd a world it was when a man as intimidating as Gene Hunt could be sent scurrying home on the dot of ten every evening by just the idea of letting ‘her’ down.

Gene often felt guilty as he headed home knowing that she wouldn’t have eaten yet, not til he’d made his way back to her. He knew she’d be waiting, sitting so that she could see the driveway, waiting for the flash of headlights reflecting off the drapes signalling his return to her.

It was cute how they’d re-enact the same ritual greeting every evening. He’d bend down (as he was considerably taller than she was) and she’d purr in his ear, wrapping her body around as much of him as she could reach, making all the right noises as she welcomed him home. He’d run his hand down her back, give her a little tickle then apologise for making her wait as they walked together into the kitchen for supper.

Gene chatted idly almost to himself as he took the can opener from the draw, telling her about his day and the apparently crazy new DI he’d been lumped with from Hyde.

“Oops again for me tonight luv, but a special treat for my special girl…” he smiled, taking the can of kippers from the pantry “…because I know how much you love ‘em.”

She loved how he spoiled her. After all how many men would come home from work and immediately tend to someone else’s needs over their own, but that was the kind of man he was. It was also why, when she landed on the bench beside her bowl he didn’t growl at her, or swipe her back to the floor, instead he just scratched her affectionately behind the ear, and then placed her and her bowl down onto the floor with a quick “ere you go missus”, before picking up his own dinner, and making his way over to the single place setting at his kitchen table.

A/N Weird I know, having the author’s notes at the end but I didn’t want to spoil the surprise. This is my first fic - I’m not a writer but I wanted to get my idea down on paper, because ever since my second viewing of 1.01 I’ve thought it a little odd that Gene would know first thing in the morning what he was going to be having for dinner that evening - unless of course he was preparing the meal himself, which if a human missus existed would also be weird in 1973, and so my version of the missus was born.

photo of the missus