Taken 3/10
By: am1019 (amproof on livejournal)
This chapter rating: T
(language)
Disclaimer: Not mine. If they were, I sure wouldn't do
this to them.
Characters: Gene, Sam
Driving In Circles
Two types of physical pain Gene knew—the pain of the moment of impact, whether from a blow or a fall, sharp, instant, and the pain of the aftermath that came from forgetting about bruises covered by clothing and moving the wrong way or getting slapped on the back in the wrong place and the radiation of bothered nerves bringing back the memory of how the bruise got there in the first place.
And that wasn't even mentioning how his arse felt. Couldn't be obvious about it, so he forced himself to walk with long, manful strides, but he'd give the Mrs. Genie's right tit (his favorite) for the chance to shuffle along like an old lady without any of the yobs commenting.
Not that that was ever going to happen.
So. Manfully stride he did, biting the inside of his cheek every step of the way. Probably looked fucking constipated.
He hadn't intended to throw Sam in the boot of the car and take him for a spin. The Genie was a busy man. He had things to do. He wasn't twiddling his thumbs thinking, 'ooh, I know, I'll toss that tosser into me car and joggle him about.' No, he was working on cases, like a cop should do, or he was impersonating a cop working on cases, since all the letters in front of him started swimming if he spent any time looking at them.
He hadn't expected to see Sam show up at all. Gene knew his ways were old fashioned, but if he ever raped someone he worked for, he would take the week off and give the person some time to not see his ugly mug. Just good manners, that.
Apparently they didn't have manners in Hyde. When Sam made that crack about 'the other guy', like he didn't remember a thing, like he hadn't stepped over Gene's body to get out of the flat, leaving Gene to wake up, alone, and to tend to himself, alone, and get the hell out of the flat before the psycho got back, which he did, hardly taking time to do up his trousers properly before limping out the door; when Sam came in, looking like he had a hangover and decided the first thing he needed to do was insult his Guv (who he had insulted quite nicely hours before, thank you, with the buggery and all), that was when Gene decided to take him for a little walk.
But it wasn't when he decided to put him in the boot.
He put him in the boot because, once he had him on his knees in the gravel, he wanted to kill him. So, he put him in a nice little cage instead, where he'd be safe from the Gene Genie. Then he drove around until he cooled down.
Except he didn't cool down. Every time he slowed the car and thought about letting Sam out, he had to speed up again because it wasn't safe for Sam to come out.
Why he cared about Sam's safety he had no idea.
He had stuffed a wad of tissues down the back of his pants to catch any blood because the prat tore him up good, and he was stopping himself from killing him.
He didn't understand it. It was something Tyler would do. Wouldn't that just figure—prat comes along, gets the Genie to change his ways, become a more compassionate cop, and all so he'll have some restraint when Sam…did what he did.
Had Sam planned this? The Genie's mind circled as much as the route he was driving. No. Couldn't have. Sam had been out of his head. And, from the confused and, frankly, irate, babbling as Gene dragged him down the stairs and the ever-fading shouting from the boot, he was starting to believe that Sam didn't have a clue what had happened.
Gene pulled over and let Sam out. Instead of being grateful, the sissy puked on the Genie's favorite shirt. That earned him a walk home. That, plus Gene wasn't one hundred percent on the 'don't kill him' pledge.
He drove off, knowing two things. One, knowledgeable about the attack or not, the DI was going to have a few boxes of paperwork waiting for him when he dragged his arse back to his desk. That disrespectful crack had earned him that much.
Two, if he really didn't know, Gene would be damned if he ever found out. Last thing he needed was pity and guilt getting in the way of Tyler being a good DI.
As Gene pulled into the station, he added a third.
If Sam did know, and the wide eyes and 'what are you on about, Guv?' was an act, then one thing was certain—the Genie was scared shitless.
