realityshifted | (no subject)

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life on mars (d1) sam tyler

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[Suffering severe trauma leads to taking an holiday. Taking an holiday leads to intense boredom. And intense boredom leads to ~~the Dark Side~~ Sam Tyler in a waist apron]

Fumie, we're having pasta alla carbonara tonight.

And, uh, if anyone else is hungry... I have a lot of spare time right now. [muttered] Can't believe the satellite and the internet went out at the same time...

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Wait wait wait. You make Indian? The hell you'd let me pay money for it then, you lousy poofter? And the hell is this 'vegetarian' crap?

I make plenty of Indian. Had to impress Maya's mum. You invited me to dinner. Only right that you pay.

I wouldn't have bothered if I knew I could get it for free, you div. Dish me up some, I'm comin' over.

Sure, Guv. Bring some paperwork with you. I need something to do, other than try to out-do Martha Stewart.

Oh, and Minato and Fumie are eating here, just so you know.

[gives him a look] Thought you were on vacation, Tyler? That typically means you don't work. Bloody div. [and he shrugs] Kick 'em out.

[and he drops from the level, only to knock at Sam's door some twenty minutes later, holding a stack of papers in his arms. like...as in, a stake of papers that represents the entire time Sam's been off work] Here you go. Now then! [shoves his way in for fooood~]

[for the record, they weren't kicked out; they left of their own accord]

[Also! Sam safely sets his ~~beloved~~ paperwork aside, before stepping into the kitchen and grabbing the spatula] Sit down at the table, Guv. It's not ready yet.

[and Gene wanders around the flat instead! because he's like that] How's the vacation going then, Tyler? Holed yourself up here the whole time, have you?

[keeping his eyes on his cooking as he speaks] Annie and I went out a few days ago. And I've been out running every day.

Right bag of excitement you are there, Tyler. Remind me never to have you plan something for me.

[shoots Gene a glare] And what, exactly, would you do with an holiday?

Not dick around in my flat, that's for certain. And I sure as hell wouldn't spend it alone. They make hotels for a reason, Tyler, and it's not just so some little tart can roll around with her bloke without mummy and daddy knowing.

Height of sophistication, aren't you, Guv?

Better than me suggesting the backseat of the Cortina. Took my missus on a date there once. I'm sure Cartwright would love that, tossin' about with you in the back of a bloody car.

[stops, his hands moving to grip the counter]

Guv. Let's talk about something else.

[quirks a brow, noting Sam's reaction, then shrugs, sitting down and grabbing a cigarette] How much more time do you think you're going to need for holiday?

I dunno, Guv. Can't tell if I'm getting better or getting worse.

[pushes himself away from the counter and hangs the chicken over the sink] 'bout... seven minutes before it's ready.

You look the same to me. Still a poofter nutter who's a pain in my arse. Smells good, by the way.

[turns around and leans back against the counter, looking over Gene rather carefully, trying to gauge how his DCI is faring]

[it's like looking at a brick, Sam - always looks the same, even if it's changing, and you aren't gonna notice until it falls apart. which the Guv hasn't quite yet. maybe a couple cracks here and there. he misses his DI, after all (even if he won't admit it)] Since you're that bored, though, figure you can catch us up on your precious paperwork. That should make you better, being a bird's work and all.

[keeps his eyes on Gene, and then nods slowly, once]

[actually bothers to look at him now, expression guarded, before looking away again] Got anything to drink in this pisshole since the last time I was here?

[nods again, then walks over to a cabinet and pulling out a bottle of whisky and a couple of glasses. Sets them on the table in front of Gene]

[this whole not talking thing? reeeally getting on his nerves. so he pours himself a tall one and downs it quick as you please, pouring two more and offering one to Sam]

[~~Interrogation Tactic #34: the silent treatment~~ accepts it, taking a short drink, then sets it down and returns to the chicken, which he bastes with butter. Silently~]

[watches him, more fidgety than he'd like to be, and has all ready poured himself a third glass, which he nurses in his hands] Remind me to never book your for a gig somewhere, Tyler. Your act is bloody horrible.