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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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.

[stabs a knife into the chicken, checking to see if it's ready, then sets the knife aside and turns around to look at the Guv, raising an eyebrow]

[osbgousgbousg] Are you gonna bloody well say something or am I just talking to myself? I don't much fancy lookin' like you, Dorothy.

[puts the chicken on a plate for Gene, with appropriate sidedish, and sets it in front of the Guv, then sits down across from him and leans back]

How are you dealing with the guilt?

The hell kind of question is that, Gladys?

The kind that deserves an honest answer. [takes a drink from his whisky, not taking his eyes off of Gene]

[doesn't answer for a very long time, just...watching Sam, before finally getting up, glass in hand, and wandering to the window, back to his DI] The only way I know how, Tyler. [takes a drink]

Is it better or worse without me there?

[he reeeeally doesn't want to answer that one, Sam] CID can't function without it's DI, not properly.

Gene.

[loooooooong pause] I've killed plenty of blokes in my day, Tyler. Scum who're better off under the streets than on 'em. It was my job, and I was good at it. But I can't bloody well do my job when the bloke I'm holding a gun at looks like you, now can I?