Taken 2/10
By: am1019 (amproof on livejournal)
This chapter rating: T
(language, some violence)
Disclaimer: Not mine. If they were, I
sure wouldn't do this to them.
Characters: Gene, Sam
Notes: This chapter isn't nearly so dark. In fact, I wouldn't call it dark at all. For the most part…
A Bad Joke Interpreted…Badly
All he'd said was "What's the other guy look like?" That was it. Worth a glare, maybe. A cuff around the neck, a shove against the wall. This was the Guv after all, so, ok, open the boundaries a bit and say a gut punch would have been expected and valid. But all four, that was not on. Add to those the vice grip that threatened to crack his collarbone, the being frog-marched through the station house, down the stairs in front of God, Country, Ray and his ceaseless smirk, Carl, Annie, and God-preserve-him Phyllis, the Guv not saying a word the whole way, not a damn word, just squeezing Sam's neck like he was trying to crack an egg one-handed.
They stopped in back of the Guv's Cortina, and the Guv flung Sam around to face him.
"What the bloody hell are you on about?" Sam was shaking, down to his fingers. He charged the great bull.
Mistake.
Sam's headbutt deflected.
The Guv's well-placed knee folding him to the ground.
Don't attack the Guv. Bad things happen when one attacks the Guv. Sam knew this. He did. He just kept forgetting to remind himself…
"In my house, we show respect for our betters." Voice of gravel. He heard, but did not see, something click at the level of his head. The Guv's pistol. Well, if that didn't just confirm that the Guv had gone batshit insane…
"I didn't mean anything by it," Sam said. "You don't have to do this. It's an overreaction, even for you, isn't it?" He waited for the feel of metal against his face. He had cried once, in this situation. Now he didn't know what he wanted to do. Laugh, cry, beg. Thank him? The Guv would do it close range. Biggest mess possible that way. Little bits of Sam brain to speckle over the lot, up on the side of the building maybe, for the WPCs to scrub up while the Guv had a pint at the Railway Arms.
If he died here, would he die?
Or go someplace else? 1988 mightn't be too bad. He wouldn't mind a chance at stopping himself from dating Ann Marjorie. She broke his heart *and* turned out to be running drugs out of her house. That was a bit embarrassing on his part… They say love blinds you, but this was…
This was him about to die.
"Guv…"
The Guv grabbed him, one hand on his shirt collar, the other between his legs, and hoisted him up, over. He landed on metal covered in carpeting. That was the click he had heard. It was the boot opening, not a gun. He almost wept in relief. He looked up and saw the Guv glaring down at him. Cripes, the man had an expression, didn't he?
"Just so you know, Sammy boy, if you'd kept your gob shut, I wouldn't be having to do this. My coffee is going cold because of you."
"Figures you'd make it about yourself."
The Guv slammed the boot shut, trapping Sam in darkness except for pinpricks of light, including one that hit him right in the eye. This was, at least, familiar territory. Not for the first time, Sam indulged the fantasy of being in 2006 and reporting the Guv for gross and malicious behavior unbecoming a police officer. He'd get such a stripping down from the committee he'd... not be affected by it all. Sam kicked the latch. Again and again and again. The car started up and began moving. He gave up kicking. Removing his jacket, he curled it under his head to ward off some of the bumps. Fucker was hitting every pothole in Manchester.
They drove around and around and around, bouncing, shaking. It was worse than a boat.
"Guv, I'm sorry. Let me out! I'm sorry!" Ten minutes was a lesson well-learned, wasn't it? Talk about someone who couldn't take a joke.
Five minutes more before the car stopped. The boot popped open. The Guv grabbed him and pulled him halfway out. Sam flinched away from the red, swollen face. "You mind your p's and q's, you got that?"
It was one shake too many. Sam heaved forward and vomited. It splashed against the Guv's shirt. The Guv yanked him out of the car. Sam fell on boneless legs, his jacket dropped jacket alongside him.
"You think about what we've learned here today while you walk back to the station, Sammy boy." He got into the car, did a U-turn. He looked down at Sam, resting his elbow on the window like he was pulled up at a drive-in. "And if you take transport, don't even think about expensing it."
Sam sat on the side of the road watching the Cortina disappear and wondered where the hell he was. Then he pushed himself up on hands and knees and vomited all over again.