Biker Boy

Disclaimer: New Tricks and all it's characters belong to the BBC. I can but dream.

Rating: Mmmm, Maybe T+

Pairing: Sandland.

/

"Where the hell is Gerry?"

Brian and Jack looked up from the sofa at the source of the exclamation as she entered the office, closely followed by the units supervisor.

"Car trouble, he's on his way." Jack explained. Sandra sighed.

"The only trouble with that bloody car is that he hasn't had the damn thing scrapped and bought something decent." She moaned.

"It's a claaaasseek!" Brian made an attempt to copy Gerry's cockney accent, which made Sandra smile.

"I can come back later." The DAC offered, trying to conceal his own smile, "We don't need to do the briefing now."

"Here he is. But he doesn't look best pleased." Jack observed, as their missing comrade entered the office, grumbling as he pushed the door open. He stopped when he saw the boss was waiting for him.

"Well?" Sandra questioned. Gerry sighed.

"Sorry. She seemed alright when I started her up this morning, but I hadn't got half way here when she started to smoke. I managed to limp her to my usual garage." He rubbed his face. "They took a quick look, they reckon the head gasket has gone."

"Sounds like you were lucky, if the car was smoking it sounds like you had oil on the engine. It could have caught alight." Strickland pointed out. Gerry nodded.

"Yeah, that's what Geoff said. He's ordered a new gasket set for me, but it's going to set me back about six hundred to get it sorted." Sandra couldn't help but feel a little bit sorry for her friend. All joking aside, he really did love his stag.

"Why don't you do it yourself?" Strickland asked, making them all stop and stare at him.

"I don't know how." Gerry admitted quietly. Sandra snorted. She shook her head as Gerry glared at her.

"Sorry Sir, but this lot are probably the least mechanically minded group of men I've ever worked with. Once while we were out on enquiries, we had a puncture. I had to change it, they didn't have a clue." She grinned. Strickland smiled as the older men all flushed scarlet.

"Well, it's not for everyone." He tried to make them feel a little better. "But seriously, It would only take a few hours. Changing a gasket is a fairly simple task." He sighed as he saw Gerry's hopeful face. "Phone your garage. We'll get your car towed to my place. Are you busy Saturday morning?"

"No, Saturday is fine." Gerry answered, a little bit bewildered, his usually stoic and prim boss was offering to fix his car for him. He wondered if he had wandered into some sort of twilight zone alternate reality. "Shall I let the garage get the gasket?"

"It will save you having to try and get one."

"I'll call them now, before they start pulling her apart, I'll ask them if they can tow her to your house..."

"No, don't do that, they'll charge you a fortune. I'll have a quiet word with traffic. Get one of the trucks to pick it up. Just give me the name of the garage."

Gerry fished a business card out of his pocket and handed it to his boss. He looked at the others who were all staring at him in amusement

"What?"

"Nothing." They all replied together. Sandra smiled.

"Now, can we get on with some work?"

/

It was soon Saturday, and Gerry found himself knocking on his bosses front door. He felt a bit out of place, standing in front of the large detached house with it's large gravelled driveway and double garage. As he waited for the door to open, he looked across at his beloved stag, as it stood, bleeding to death, a large flat cardboard box catching the precious oil as it seeped from the engine. Gerry turned as the door opened, doing a double take as he caught sight of his boss. He suddenly realised that he had never seen the man outside of a work environment before, and the light battered jeans, pale blue t-shirt and old white trainers looked as foreign on the man, as a tutu would look on him. The younger man smiled warmly and indicated to follow him to the garage. He unlocked it and swung the door up, revealing a truly huge open space, making Gerry stare in wonder.

"Blimey, you could start a business." He observed, as he took in the lines of tools and the work bench. Strickland shrugged.

"It's a bit of a hobby. I enjoy tinkering." He smiled shyly. "Let's get your car pushed over here."

"Right you are Sir." Gerry agreed, rolling up the sleeves of his check shirt. Strickland frowned.

"Gerry, could you do me a favour?"

"Of course Sir."

"Please, call me Rob. Or Robert if that's too much of a stretch." The older man grinned.

"That might take some getting used to, but I'll give it a shot."

/

A couple of hours later, both men were standing over the sick stag, various parts of the poorly car were placed around them. Rob straightened and snapped off the latex gloves which he was wearing.

"Right, it's all cleaned up. Time for the gasket." he said. Gerry retrieved the packet and handed it to Rob who looked at it in consternation. "I don't think this is the right one."

"Geoff said it would be alright, it would just need some trimming." Gerry answered. Robert shook his head.

"We could try, but all the bolt holes are wrong, it would only be a temporary fix. It looks like this one might be for a completely different model." He looked at the aged and dirty label. "Yes look, it's for a triumph, fair enough. But this one is for a tr7."

"Bloody hell!" Gerry huffed. "He assured me it would fit. What can we do?" He watched as Robert thought for a moment.

"Well, our options are; one, we adapt this one as a quick fix so that we can put the car back together, then we start again when we get the right one. Two, we cut a new gasket from a piece of lino, again that would only be a temporary fix. Or three, we leave the stag in bits until we get the right gasket set." He watched as Gerry thought for a moment, then had an idea. "Wait, let me make a call." He retrieved his phone from his pocket and dialled a contact, after a few rings, the phone was answered. "Hello, Mark? I'm glad I caught you. I don't suppose that amongst that Aladdin's cave of motor parts you have, you have a gasket set to fit a Triumph stag? Yes, on my mobile. Thanks. Bye." He hung up and looked at Gerry. "It's a long shot, but Mark specializes in classic motors, he might come up trumps."

"You've got him on speed dial?" Gerry quizzed, Robert laughed.

"He let's me know if something comes into his workshop that I'd be interested in. He's sourced parts for me on all my projects."

"Projects?" Gerry enquired, Rob smiled and signalled for Gerry to follow him into the garage. On the other side of the space, several covered shaped stood out against the white walls. Robert pulled the cover off the first shape, revealing an old, but perfectly restored motorcycle. Gerry gasped.

"It's a Honda seven fifty four! I used to watch the guys on these wishing I could be them. It's beautiful! You restored this?" Robert blushed, he nodded.

"Like I said, it's a hobby. This one had been chopped, I put it back to original."

"What's under the other covers?" Gerry was busting to know. Robert unveiled the remaining four bikes.

"Laverda jota one eighty, Norton commando, Ducati 900ss, and a Triumph bonneville." Gerry was in awe, he looked across at another shape. "And that one?"

"Still in progress. It's another Honda, a black bomber, but I've only just started it, it needs to be completely stripped down, someone has completely sprayed it matt black."

"What a travesty!" Gerry sighed, he smiled. "I never took you for a biker." Robert shrugged.

"I started off in the motorcycle division, until a smashed knee forced me to hang up my helmet. I got offered a promotion to CID." He was interrupted buy his phone ringing. He answered. "Hello. You have! Fantastic. Yes, charge it to my card. Thanks, I'll come and get it. Bye." he looked at Gerry. "We're on. He's got one, just got to nip off to Harris street to get it."

"Harris street, is that just down from Hammond park, there's a pub on the corner called the Royal Oak?" He watched as Robert nodded. Gerry grinned. "I might be able to save us the journey." He got out his phone and hit the speed dial. "Sandra. Are you still getting your nails done? Good. You're only five minutes from Hammond park Yes? There is a garage down Harris street, can you pick up a part from them and drop it by? Oh, come on, I'll pay for you come next curry night. Thanks. Still at Strickland's. Yes. See you soon." He hung up. "It's on it's way. Sandra mentioned she was getting her nails done this morning, the salon is only round the corner." He looked embarrassed for a moment. "Sir, Rob. Thanks, I'll pay you back as soon..." He stopped as Robert held up his hand.

"No hurry, get your money back on the other gasket first. There's no way it's the right one, so you have every right to take it back." He nodded towards the door. "Let's get a coffee while we wait for Sandra." He started towards the small door which Gerry guessed must lead into the house. He smiled to himself and followed.

"Who'd have thought it. A closet biker." He muttered to himself.

/

Sandra pulled into the driveway, noticing the stag with it's bonnet up and various parts of its engine scattered around. She parked up and, grabbing the bag from the seat beside her, she made her way to the sounds of chatter coming from the garage. The two men were stood, drinking coffee and tinkering with several very beautiful motorcycles. Her eyes were drawn to the sleek fire engine red ducati.

"They're nice eh?" She heard Gerry's voice full of humour. She shrugged.

"Here's your thingummy." She handed the bag to Gerry, who instantly passed it over to Robert. He took it out and ran his eyes over it.

"That's more like it. The stag will be as good as new inside an hour." He smiled shyly at Sandra. "I made a pot of coffee, the kitchen is just through the utility room, if you'd like to help yourself." He blushed slightly. Gerry grinned.

"You should, It's good coffee." He winked at her. Sandra shrugged.

"I've never been one to turn down a good coffee." She watched for a moment as the two men returned to the sick stag, the magical missing piece now in hand. She felt her face flush as Strickland leaned in under the bonnet, his pale jeans showing off his bum to perfection. Gerry chose that moment to turn and caught her watching, his grin made her turn and take cover in Strickland's kitchen, where she set about making herself a drink while her face returned to the right colour.

/

Back out in the garage, Gerry chuckled. Robert turned to him, a quizzical expression on his face. Gerry shook his head.

"You've made an impression with those jeans."

"What do you mean?"

"Sandra, she was checking you out." Gerry winked. Robert flushed scarlet.

Gerry nudged him with his elbow. "You should wear them to work." He couldn't help but tease the younger man, he knew his boss had a thing for Sandra. Robert started to fasten the bolts in place.

"I don't think that would be a good idea." He muttered. Gerry frowned slightly.

"Got to be worth a try." He added. Robert sighed.

"It wouldn't do any good. I'm not her type."

"Oh, and what's her type then." Gerry raised his eyebrows. Robert straightened up, and glanced towards the kitchen door.

"Any man who isn't me, evidently." He replied sadly. He looked at the older man. "I appreciate what you are trying to do. But it isn't like I haven't tried. I have. The truth is, she had about as much regard for me as the rest of you." He picked up another tool, and continued on the engine. Gerry watched the man work for a moment.

"What do you mean?" He asked. Robert stopped and leaned heavily on the car.

"Despite what you all think, I'm not an idiot, and I'm not stupid. I know what you all think of me and I know that Sandra feels the same. There's no point..." He trailed off, Gerry felt guilty, he hadn't realised their boss had heard the jibes they had aimed his way.

"I'm sorry, I had no idea...Look, we're always taking the mickey out of each other, I suppose sometimes we get carried away." He rubbed his face. Robert smiled softly.

"It's alright. You're not the only ones. In fact, I feel more welcome in UCOS than anywhere else. That's why I've given up on getting Sandra to notice me, I'd rather exist on the edge of her world, than not be in it at all."

"So you've just given up?"

"The truth is, she's way out of my league. She deserves a better man than me." He picked up a rag and wiped away any residue from the engine before gathering up the tools. "All done, let it run a few minutes, get the oil circulating." He watched as Gerry started the car up. He watched the engine purring, keeping an eye out for leaks. Gerry joined him, watching the heart of the stag as it circulated the oil around. He was lost in thought, he'd never seen their boss like this, in fact he'd learned more about the man in one morning than the last several years put together. He looked at the man.

"Maybe you should just try being yourself, like you have this morning. The bloke who's helped me fix my car isn't half bad to be around." He heard the door behind them, Sandra re-appeared with three mugs on a tray.

"Here, I made one for you guys, since your the ones working. Hey! It's working! It's Alive!" She smiled as she saw the stag running.

"I haven't done much, it's all been Robert, all I've done is fetch and carry."

"Why doesn't that surprise me." She dead panned. Gerry harrumphed. Robert laughed, as he retrieved a torch from amongst the tools.

"I'll just check underneath, so long as there's no leaks, we're all done." He got down and shuffled slightly so he could see under the car, as he moved, his t-shirt caught on the gravel, exposing his midriff. Sandra's breath hitched. Gerry gave her a knowing look, she mouthed 'shut up' at him, trying to ignore the humour in his eyes. Robert wriggled out from under the car.

"Everything's fine." He said, standing up, and dropping the bonnet down. "No reason that gasket shouldn't outlast the car." He snapped the latex gloves off. Sandra held the steaming cup of coffee out to him. "Thanks." He smiled, she wandered back into the garage to mask the fact that she was blushing. Gerry followed her as Robert collected up the tools and deposited them onto the bench.

"Sexy eh?" Gerry said.

"What?" Sandra jumped slightly.

"The Ducati, it's a very sexy bike." He added innocently.

"Ummm, yes it is." She agreed.

"Have you ever ridden anything like that?" He questioned. She gave him a look that would have brought down a charging rhino, but over the years, he must have become immune to it, because he just grinned back.

"No." She said firmly. "I've never had the chance."

"I'm sure Robert wouldn't mind taking you for a quick one." He said, trying not to crack up.

"What!" Sandra almost squeaked.

"A ride, on his bike." He clarified. "Would you?" He spoke to the younger man as he rejoined them, sipping his coffee. Rob looked confused. "Sandra wants a ride...on a bike." He told the blushing man.

"Oh, yes! Of course." Rob spluttered. "I would love to take you out if you're up for it."

"I don't have a helmet." Sandra squeaked.

"I have a spare." Robert assured her. Gerry smiled, he played his trump card.

"Maybe it wouldn't be such a good idea though. I mean, Sandra if you've never been on a bike before, you don't want to get hurt." He saw Sandra bristle. One thing he had learned over the past couple of years was that if you wanted Sandra Pullman to do something, you had to suggest she wouldn't be able to do it.

"Are you doing anything tomorrow?" She asked Robert. He shook his head.

"No, tomorrow is fine, and the weather is supposed to be good as well."

"I'll see you tomorrow then, about nineish?" She smiled before heading back to her car. "I'm looking forward to it." With that she got back into her car and drove off, all the time thinking 'What the hell did I just agree too?'

Gerry and Robert watched her go. Gerry clapped his hand on the younger man's shoulder.

"Just remember, be yourself." He smiled, wishing he could be a fly on the wall tomorrow.

/

Authors note: Part two soon, though reviews make me write faster! ;-D