realityshifted | (no subject)

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life on mars (d1) gene hunt

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This place is complete bullshit. Every time I try using this crap 'technology' it up and breaks like the useless junk it is. And if one more bloke tries copping a feel of my arse, I'm locking the whole bloody city up. You hear me, brat? You're whole bloody city, nicked. Don't think I won't.

And Tyler. You and I need to talk.

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If by closer, you mean in a holding cell at CID, then sure, I do just that.

Some people can't be held in cells, Mr. Hunt.

[frowns, pulling out a cig] I know. I did business that way, once. Don't fancy going back to that style of policing.

[quietly]

I'm glad to hear it.

[a wry smile]

But I'm not a police officer.

[looks him up and down, eyebrow quirked] So I've noticed.

[faint chuckle]

What gave it away?

You don't hold yourself like a copper. Don't got the presence. [shrugs] The uniform gives it away, too. The hell plays cricket, really? Football's the only sport worth playin'. Cricket's for nancies.

No, I don't. That's rather the point, really.

[now he grins, eyes glinting]

They call it the gentleman's game. Generally, as an enthusiast, I'm either respected or underestimated.

I don't much care for hiding. Pussy footing around is for pansies. I'm a copper and proud of it -- undercover's one thing, but you still got that air when you're a copper. Don't think you've got what it takes.

[snorts] 's still boring a hell.

Discretion is the better part of valour.

[a slight shrug, before his entire demeanour changes in an instant - gone is the polite patrician, and in his place a man with hard features and old eyes, with a posture of confidence and vigilance; his voice is lower, sharper]

I've downed my fair share of enemies, you know. Some of them reached a prison. Some of them didn't.

Not where I come from.

[frowns, cause wow, change. and now Gene's actually taking you seriously, Doctor] That so? So what, think you can clean up the scum on your own?

[the Doctor smirks, not at all smugly, really]

Well. Not entirely, but I do tend to lead the force, on way or another.

[a wry, harsh laugh]

I don't like violence, really, but I'm good at it all the same.

[sniffs, giving him another once over] So long as you keep it away from here, I don't give a damn what you're good at.

[raises an eyebrow]

I don't go about hurting innocent people, Mr. Hunt. I'm not the Master.

[gives him a long look] Then why haven't you taken care of him, yet? If you can't, I'd be happy to.

[he snorts]

And how do you plan to do that? If he's killed, he'll only return, more hostile than ever and perhaps more unbalanced than he already is. He can't be permanently crippled, he's both a Gallifreyan and a very powerful animal.

If he must be kept alive, I'd rather he be useful.

I find shooting him works pretty well, actually.

Yes, and then he'll heal, or revive, and we're worse off than we were before.

Why can't you just off him, then?

[a level stare]

Like he offed you?

...he got lucky and cheated in a fight. 's not the same, even if I came back.

And you think he wouldn't?

[glares and grumbles because the Doctor has a point] Fine, don't kill the bloke. Cheap bastard.

[slight smile]

Yes.

Besides, as I said, he's powerful. Were that directed at something worthwhile...

I don't work with scum. Not like that. Not anymore.

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miseardae.livejournal.com - 2008-03-26 20:26 (UTC) - Expand

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