The Burden Of Proof
For the first time in his life, Gene's emotions had taken him over. Striking negative emotions that made him want to turn the tables from kicking in a nonce to kicking himself in.
For the first time in his life, Gene had no strength to kick in a nonce, because it was only a mere hour ago that a certain nonce kicked him in instead.
For the first time in his life, Gene had evidence against a suspect, proof that they did what he said they did. But he was too scared to bring them to justice in fear of being kicked in by said nonce a third time.
Gene paced into A-Division, breathing heavily, preparing to face the music of his colleagues wondering what happened to his face. He would normally parade his war wounds, but this was different. This time, Gene hadn't won the battle. The gouge in his left cheek was a defeat wound. The office sounded dead, the absence of the ever-present chatter made Gene feel out of his element. The whole of CID was waiting for Gene.
He hung his head as he eased the doors open, no strength to swing them until they almost fell off their hinges as usual. This was definitely not the normal DCI Gene Hunt. He scanned the shabby green flooring as he paced until his feet collided with familiar black leather shoes. The smell of unhealthy cleanliness marked the presence of DI Sam Tyler, the only person this side of Manchester who could cross Gene and not be scared shitless or served a fist sandwich.
Gene had attracted the attention of everyone in the room. He slowly raised his weary head for his eyes to meet with Sam's. He lifted his hand with all the strength he could muster, causing Sam to flinch in fear of what his hung-over Guv had in store. But instead, he formed his hand into a pathetic form of a beckon towards him. Sam understood and stepped forward.
"You alright, Guv? You want me to fetch you some nurofen… er, some Lucozade?"
"Ooh, 'ark at bleedin' Ghandi over 'ere, never accepts help when he needs it the most, but offers it when there's nout wrong wi' me. You're a hard book to read, Tyler. Bit like the Bible. Never quite finished that. Genesis bored the crap outta me," Gene looked around at the gormless coppers watching Gene's every move, and they all chortled together at Gene's witty sarcasm. Back to normal then.
"Guv, if you're quite finished with the sarcasm, perhaps we should get onto the fact that you're not supposed to be here," Sam pressed.
"Look 'ere, Sammy-boy, I need to be here as much as Cartwright needs to get her kit off," Gene gestured towards her with a wink and receiving a disapproving frown from both Annie and Sam in return.
"Guv, you look peaky, and the hospital gave you at least two weeks leave from work. I've never seen anybody so keen to return to us wasters."
"And I've never seen one of said wasters arguing with their DCI without getting a full-blown smack in the gob, but there's a first time for everything," Gene stepped into Sam and lowered his voice, "everyone here knows you're a nut job, Sam, but given time, I might come to agree, now, in order to prevent said event, I propose we get down the boozer. Call it a 'Welcome Back Guv' drink, and you're paying, Gladys," with that, Gene grabbed Sam's leather-clad sleeve and ushered him through the double doors of the office.
