Hello! Wow, thank you all so much for your reviews; I never expected such a nice response, so thank you! I'm a little later than planned with this second part, but I found myself busier than expected last week. The good news is that this isn't the last chapter! I've realised this needs a third part, as I couldn't fit everything into this part. Again, thank you for all your kind words; I hope you enjoy this second part!
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Disclaimer – I don't own New Tricks, I'm not nearly awesome enough for that. :D
Where UCOS Goes... Part Two
Gerry found himself chuckling at the pained look on Sandra's face as he made his way through the throng of dancing couples towards her and Strickland. He knew she had taken ballroom lessons once, and he also knew better than anyone that she'd hated them, and only done it under instruction from her mother in the first place. He had caught her grumbling to herself one morning, furiously muttering about things like 'keep his bloody hands to himself' and 'poncy shirts and bloody ridiculous shoes'. She'd been wearing flats that day too, for a change. As he neared the not-so-happy couple, Gerry slicked on his most charming smile and tried to ignore how close Strickland was holding his Guv'nor. Reminding himself of the fact that Sandra would kill him and make sure the body was never found if he started a punch up on the dance-floor, he uncurled his fists, stepping up and intending to politely tap the D.A.C on the shoulder.
They had bypassed 'uncomfortable' a long time ago. Now this, this was just bloody excruciating. One arm was still encircling Sandra's waist; the other held her hand too tightly, as though he thought she could slip away from him at any minute before he got a chance to say whatever the hell it was he wanted to say. It was safe to say she had never been more delighted to see Gerry's face, coming up behind Strickland. Her gaze met with Gerry's, and the meaning in them was clear. Over the years, Gerry had learnt the meaning behind every single one of her facial expressions by heart and this one – the pursed lips, restrained anger and tight look in her eyes – meant something along the lines of 'You took your bloody time.'
"Sandra," Strickland said, interrupting the awkward silence they had been dancing in for the last few minutes. "I didn't really ask you to dance with me so I could ask after your mother."
Sandra forced a smile, but it was brief, and the look in her eyes told Gerry it was the last thing she wanted to do. In fact, he was pretty sure she was just a few minutes away from lamping him one. Gerry had seen the effects of a pissed off Sandra's right hook, and it was something he would delight in seeing her boss on the receiving end of. She was glaring over Strickland's shoulder at him now, and Gerry knew she was wondering what he was waiting for. He smirked at her, and she understood.
The bastard. Sandra wasn't sure who she wanted to slap more, Strickland or Gerry. He was waiting for Strickland to finish, and the amusement in his smirk said he wasn't going back on that anytime soon. He wasn't just here to rescue her; he was here for the bloody show as well. Typical. Sandra restrained a heavy sigh and directed her gaze back to Strickland's hesitant expression.
"Truth is, Sandra..." The D.A.C's gaze flickered downwards out of embarrassment and whilst he was looking elsewhere, Sandra rolled her eyes disdainfully at Gerry over his shoulder and gave him her best 'hurry the fuck up' glare. Her eyes were brought back to her dance partner when he cleared his throat, nervously readjusting his grip on her hand. "Truth is... I've been waiting for a chance to get you alone for weeks; I have something I want to talk to you about."
Gerry had to hand it to her – for an intelligent woman, she did a remarkable job of playing stupid. "Sir, if this is about another offer of promotion, you already know what my answer is. I'm happy at UCOS."
"Oh yes, yes I know..." Strickland's usual upper class drawl was tinged with a slight sort of feverishness now, and Sandra felt his grip on her hand readjust again, his palms starting to clam up. Oh for God's sakes, Gerry, she hissed internally. You've seen enough of the bloody show, now get rid of him! But there was no such hope – Gerry was still hovering behind Strickland, a thoroughly smug and amused smirk resting easily on his face. Bastard. "Sandra," Strickland started again.
"Yes sir?" She continued to feign ignorance.
"I don't want to talk to you about a promotion, or about anything work related, actually..." Sandra bridled uncomfortably, but he didn't notice and continued. She was pretty sure Strickland wasn't actually paying attention to her reactions anymore; he was just focusing on trying to get his words out. How the hell was she going to handle this one?
"It's actually a bit more personal... I, ah, um... I was wondering if you might like to have dinner with me one evening."
The look of horror on Sandra's face increased, and so did the size of Gerry's smirk. Strickland's gaze was fixed uneasily on her face now, so she couldn't even shoot Gerry any more 'help me' glares over his shoulder. Come on, Gerry, she seethed to herself, You've had your fun.
"Oh," was all Sandra could say for the moment.
"Oh, no pressure or anything, Sandra," Strickland told her, and she had to fight hard to restrain a humourless bark of laughter. "I just thought I'd ask. I've been meaning to for weeks, but just never got the chance... I understand that you might have reservations, what with my being your senior officer, but I think we could work around that and - "
"Mind if I have a dance with the Guv'nor now, sir?" Gerry's cockney brawl interrupted the D.A.C's advances, and despite his deliberately bad timing, Sandra felt a horrible, sudden urge to kiss the life out of him.
"Oh, yes, certainly," Strickland said, turning his head to look towards Gerry before directing his gaze back at Sandra. But despite his words, he showed no desire to loosen his hold on her just yet. "We'll, ah, continue this conversation later? Think about it, at least."
Doing her best to nod and smile, Sandra suppressed a sigh of relief as he disentangled himself from her and beat a hasty retreat, cheeks burning ever so slightly. As Gerry took his place, maintaining a more respectable distance, placing one hand lightly on her waist and holding her hand loosely in his other one, Sandra took a moment to compose herself.
"What took you so bloody long?" she hissed, eyes flashing. "Enjoying yourself whilst I squirmed, were you?
Gerry pretended to look hurt and sniffed indignantly. "Your gratitude is astounding, Guv. Besides, I came over 'ere to rescue you, the least I should be able to do is have a bit of fun in the process."
Sandra shook her head at him in disbelief and outrage. "I didn't need rescuing; I'm not a bloody damsel in distress, Gerry!"
He snorted. "Me an' Jack beg to differ. Besides, you looked pretty relieved when I intervened. You weren't gettin' rid of the slime-ball anytime soon on your own. In fact, I'd say you looked about ready to kiss me."
Shit. He'd clocked that? "Oh come off it, Gerry, your suave charms and powers of persuasion are hardly about to work on me," she snapped as they turned, the hand at her waist gently directing her.
Shrugging slightly as they turned again and somehow ended up a little closer to each other, Gerry smirked and glanced over to where he knew Jack and Esther were to see if Brian was back yet. "Oh stop worrying, Sandra, I'm not tryin' to bloody seduce you. Think you've 'ad enough of that for one night, don't you?"
Sandra blew a long tunnel of air out from between almost gritted teeth. "Just about. I mean, dinner? With him? The only time I'd ever have dinner with him is at one of these ridiculous functions." She shook her head, still exulting fury. Gerry watched the light glimmer in her hair as it slipped slightly from where it was partly held up at the back, a few strands slipping down to frame her face perfectly. She looked amazing. "Bloody hopeless ponce," she muttered viciously.
"What, me?"
"No, you idiot," she shot at him, faintly amused. "Strickland."
"Oh." Gerry's smirk turned into a grin. "That's my girl."
Her scathing scowl would have wiped the grin from anyone else's face, but not his. "I'm not anyone's girl. You learnt the hard way how not to call me sweetheart, Gerry. Do we have to repeat that lesson again?" She batted her eyelashes at him, false sweetness dripping from her smile.
"No, boss." They shared a grin then, Sandra flashing him one of the brief, devilish grins she only ever saved for special occasions.
"Now are you going to tell me why we're still dancing, or can we get to the bar so I can have another drink?"
"Aw, c'mon, Sandra!" Gerry exclaimed, playing the disappointed knight in shining armour. "I rescue you from Slime-ball Strickland over there, an' I don't even get a dance to say thank you?" His right hand slid subtly from her waist to her lower back, where he held her ever so slightly closer to him. "Besides, Brian's not back yet. We need you to get 'im to dance with Esther, he's being a right miserable sod again."
"Well that's nothing new," Sandra remarked, glancing over to where she could now see Jack and Esther talking. "Where's he gone?" She turned her head back to look at Gerry, and realised they'd somehow drawn closer. Their eyes collided and for a second, there was a strange sort of intensity in their shared gaze, before the connection was broken and she pushed the thought aside. But the skin on her lower back was burning where his hand was, and... She was horrified to realise it wasn't in the bad way it had been when Strickland had done exactly the same thing.
"He's gone to get another round of drinks in, should be back soon."
Sandra looked suddenly worried. "You sent Brian to the bar? Alone? Are you mad, Gerry?" She started to pull away from him, turning to head towards the bar. But Gerry didn't loosen his hold on her hand and pulled her back to him, resulting in what almost looked like some kind of planned spin as he pressed his hand to her lower back again and they continued turning to the music.
"Relax, Sandra," he told her. "Esther sent him, and he's fine. He's been clean again for years now, there's nothing to worry about. He'll be back with the drinks in a minute."
Not looking any more convinced, and now electrically aware of how she had ended up closer to Gerry than she had ever intended, Sandra gave a short sigh and pursed her lips. She glanced over towards the bar and clocked Strickland stood there, drink in hand, watching them closely. She looked back to Gerry, knowing he must have seen the D.A.C stood there too. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"
Now it was Gerry's turn to play ignorant. "Enjoyin' what?"
They turned again. "Making Strickland jealous."
His eyes widened in feigned surprise at her suggestion. "I can assure you, Sandra," he said smoothly, looking at her seriously. "I am not trying to do anything of the sort. Can't a man have a dance with his boss if she's a bird?"
Sandra rolled her eyes, but Gerry continued. "What are you suggesting, anyway?" His smile turned into a small, teasing smirk as Sandra started to wonder what the hell he was playing at. "That there's anything 'ere for Strickland to be jealous of?"
Her narrowed eyes and scathing look conveyed a different story to the weird sensation trickling down her spine at the intensity of his gaze, his joking smirk. She inwardly shook her head to herself. Maybe her mother was right, perhaps she needed a boyfriend. It certainly paid testimony to the fact that it had been a while if she was seriously considering Gerry, and reacting like this to Gerry. Bloody hell.
"You're a bastard, Gerry."
He knew she didn't mean it. "No, I'm a naughty boy, Sandra, not a bastard. There's a difference."
"Yeah, you've said." They were too close now for her to keep her hand on his shoulder, so she shifted slightly to slip it so it curled loosely around the back of his neck. "I'm struggling after eight years to see that difference."
His lips quirked into a sharp smile along with hers. "Oh, I'd 'ave thought that would be easy. The difference is, Sandra, that a bastard would have his hand on your arse by now."
She laughed sardonically, her head tilting backwards slightly. Her sparkling gaze came back to meet his. But before she could say anything in reply, the loud sound of smashing glass and a table hitting the floor sounded from behind them and they both jumped apart, turning to stare in the direction of the bar.
"Oh, bloody hell."
Letting out a slow, long-suffering sigh, Sandra shook her head, looking with disbelief at the sight of Brian tackling a suited officer that she vaguely recognised to the ground, a table disturbed nearby and smashed glass scattered across the floor. Both men were crying out in protest, and fists were already flailing.
As she took off, striding purposefully towards the brawl with Gerry hurrying behind her, Sandra let out another slow breath, trying to shake the memory of being held in Gerry's arms as they danced from her mind.
"Give me strength," she seethed to herself, and even she didn't know whether she was referring to the escalating fist fight in front of her, or the man hurrying along beside her.
God, I'm worried now I've done some of the slight Sandra/Gerry stuff... I hope everyone was still in character, please don't be afraid to tell me if they weren't! The third part should hopefully be up soon, thank you very much for reading, reviews make my day!
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