Authors Note
Ok, here's my first ever story for "Life On Mars", so I know it's not perfect! Go easy on me as it is my first attempt. It's a one-shot and is called "Thankyou"
Spoilers for Episode 8 of Series 2. So the last ever episode!
Set after Series 2, Episode 8.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters what-so-ever, so please don't sue. If you're still keen on suing me, then do it over the story that you think is the best. Leave me a little bit of ego as I go to prison.
"Tyler!"
"Yes Guv?"
"You, me, office, now!"
Sam sighed, and reluctantly left the comfort of his chair. Gene Hunt stood just outside the door to his office, his thumbs tucked into his belt, his chin held up defiantly. Sam knew nearly every one of Gene's postures, and was sure that this one meant 'you're in bastard big trouble'. Sam closed the folders he was looking at, and moved slowly towards the towering figure. Gene saw the movement, and moved into his office, ready.
Annie tugged at Sam's arm as he passed her desk, and gave him a reassuring smile. He responded in kind and squeezed her hand.
"Its ok sir," She said, her eyes glittering in amusement, "I'm sure he'll only shout at you for a few hours. Let him get everything out of his system."
"Easy for you to say Annie," Sam replied, glancing towards the office doors, "I'm just confused as to what I've done now."
"Everything's been chaos since … well … since the train incident. You'll be fine."
Sam winced at her mention of the 'incident'. He had been called back, to the future. He could still hear their cries echoing in his head. Gene Hunt, lying on the floor, shouting his name, Chris running away with his gun in the air, screaming that he didn't want to be a cop anymore. The look of betrayal on their faces when he revealed what he had been led to believe. He was shook, uncertainty shaking his foundations when Frank Morgan made an entrance. Sam was in a coma, he knew all along, and yet when Morgan told him that he was from Hyde and was being used to expose Gene Hunt's illegal activities, he somehow came to believe it. The imagination works wonders when it wants.
The moment came, when Sam was able to escape 1973 and go back to where he came from. He was encompassed by a white light, his last sight that of his colleague's desperation, calling for him to help. He came back though. He didn't regret this decision, not once. Sam had made a promise, and he was going to keep that promise. He had saved their lives that day.
Sam shook his head, and looked around him. Annie was looking into his eyes, concerned. She didn't believe a word he had said about being in a coma and waking up in 1973, but she had supported him. Annie had never given up on him. He smiled at her, and she returned the favour, whispering;
"Go on, Sam, get it over with."
Sam walked towards the office with a new-found confidence, pointedly ignoring his colleagues around him, sniggering and making comments. He even restrained himself from hitting Ray when he smugly stated;
"We'll keep a coffin warm for you sir."
He efficiently pushed open the doors to Gene Hunt's office and stepped inside. The man himself was leaning against his desk, arms crossed in front of his chest, chin still held defiantly in the air. His eyes glittered with an emotion Sam had not seen before, and his mouth was contorted, as if he was thinking of something particularly unpleasant.
"You wanted to see me Guv?" Sam asked, relaxing slightly as Gene regarded him silently. His position assured Sam that he was not going get hit, causing his shoulders to slump with relief.
"Tyler." Gene stated, pulling a cigarette out of his jacket pocket. He then proceeded to offer Sam one, which he refused graciously.
"They'll kill you." Sam told him, as he watched Gene root through his other pockets for a lighter. He found one, and then lit up his cigarette, taking a long drag from it, before exhaling the smoke.
"I'm a copper, Dorothy," he said, looking over at Sam, "any bloody thing could kill me. Car crash, getting shot, the whole lot. A cigarette is not going to kill me more than anything else."
"Whatever you say," Sam muttered nonchalantly.
"Anyway," Gene said, crossing his arms once again, "I wanted to speak to you. You betrayed us."
He stated it matter-of-factly, leaving no room for argument. Not that Sam could. He was right, and Sam knew it. He continued to look at Gene, not giving him the satisfaction of admitting that he was right.
"But," He continued, now looking down towards the floor, "you came back. You potentially saved us."
Sam's eyes widened. He was not seriously saying this was he?
"The mighty Gene Hunt," Sam said, smiling slightly, "admitting that I may have saved his life?"
"My life?" Gene snorted, regaining control of the conversation, "No you nonce. I needed no help in saving my life. The Gene Genie always takes care of himself. I'm talking about your plonk, and the dim-witted duo out there. I mean, I could've saved them," He added, assuring himself more than anyone of his own strength, "But you know, I guess it was good that you came in and shot that bloke. The damage could've been worse."
"Well … thank you Sir." Sam was looking at Gene, trying to gauge if he was being serious or not. It didn't seem like trademark Gene Hunt, to thank someone, Sam of all people.
"Now that's over and done with," Gene once again looked up, and moved slowly towards the door of his offices. Pulling at the handle, he walked into the main area, where everyone's desks were situated.
"Everyone!" He roared over the noise. Everyone was lounging around, feet on desks, chatting amiably. Gene put a stop to it in an instant, "Shut it!"
The chatting died down, and those in the offices looked towards Gene Hunt. He was a powerful and demanding figure, standing at the front, all business from his face.
"Drinks are on Tyler!" He shouted, his face never cracking a smile, but his eyes glittering with amusement. The talk rose to enormous levels and cheering echoed through the room, followed by a rush as people grabbed their coats and hurriedly headed for the pub.
Sam shook his head, looking towards the now desolate office area. Annie was seated at her desk still, gathering her items together. She got up and slowly walked up to Sam, her hand coming out and resting on his arm. Sam smiled and draped his left arm over her shoulders.
"Why me?"
"Shut it Dorothy," Gene said from behind him, striding towards the exit, "you don't really think I'd say thank you to you without needing a scotch afterwards? I thought you were smart. It's the bloody arrogance of Hyde in you!"
He left, mutinously muttering about the C Division in Hyde. Sam just smiled, and walked towards the exit, his left arm still wrapped tightly around Annie.