Chapter Four - Around and Around

Sam was amazed on Monday by how normal Gene was. There was no hint of his new circumstances, to the point where Sam wondered a couple of times whether or not they'd had the conversation he remembered outside the pub. The Guv looked the same, smelled the same and sounded the same as ever. Sam paused over his paperwork for a moment as he rewound his thoughts; 'smelled the same'? Well, it was only the truth. Sam was familiar with the smell of Gene Hunt; smoke, wool, whiskey, aftershave and the faint soapy hint of washing powder. He was drawn into a cloud of it every time they had a fight, like it or not, and as smells went it wasn't such a bad combination. It hadn't changed, anyway, that was the point. Some might have expected the Guv to be lost without a woman to do his laundry, press his shirts and generally look after the small stuff so that the the man himself could get on with the important business of being the Gene Genie. Sam would have suspected otherwise, and his suspicions seemed to be confirmed today; Gene hadn't changed a bit in all the time his missus had been away. This fact was evidenced not only by his appearance, but also by the fact he'd already called Chris a cack-handed spiv half a dozen times before lunch. Chris took it with his usual good, if baffled, nature. Nobody seemed to have a clue that anything was different.

He and the Guv hadn't really crossed paths over the morning. It wasn't the kind of office where you exchanged much by way of pleasantries at the start of the week. Annie had come by his desk, though, smiling coyly.

'Hello, Sleeping Beauty,' she'd said, eyes glinting.

'Morning,' said Sam, smiling back at her. 'Was I out of it when you left then?'

Annie nodded. 'Spark out on the table. Snoring and everything,' she giggled. Sam feigned outrage.

'I do not snore!' She laughed more at this, shaking her head.

'All right, maybe not snoring... You look better for it today mind you. Maybe you ought to start sleeping in the pub more often?'

Sam shrugged, pretending to consider it. 'You might be on to something there.' This, he told himself with a squirm of unease, was flirting. He couldn't deny it. He hoped Annie didn't read any more into it than just that, harmless office flirtation, and sometimes he could even convince himself that was true. Right now wasn't one of those times.

'Well anyway,' she said, seeming to see some of this in his eyes, 'I'd best get back. You know how it is - paperwork to do, tea to make.' She smirked, making fun of herself. He nodded, the edges of his smile lowering.

'See you later on, yeah?' She agreed, and made her way out of the office to the desk. Sam cursed himself silently. Why did it have to be so complicated? He was too old for this shit. He liked Annie, very much, and sometimes he was even sure there was something more to it, but something always held him back from taking their relationship beyond gentle flirtation and the occasional glass of wine somewhere other than the Railway Arms. She was such a nice girl, he wished he'd kept a professional distance from the start and avoided all this. Of course, when you tell someone you're from the future within 24 hours of meeting them, it has a certain effect on your relationship. There's no going back from that.

He came out of his reverie to find the Guv standing over him. He could be so quiet, the man, for someone of his size. Sam looked up at him.

Gene had eased himself in to the start of the week. There was still no action, and while there was always paperwork to be done he tended to leave that to his DI. Sam was much more suited to all the pen pushing, he could clean up four or five files in the time it took anyone else to finish one. You had to know your team's strengths, apply them where they were most needed. He thought all this as he sat in his office, feet up on the desk, leisurely smoking a fag. He'd been out and around the desks earlier on, spoken to Ray and sent Chris to get him a cuppa and some biscuits; couldn't let the DC get complacent. He'd shuffled through some files on his desk, signed off some reports and the pile of overdue overtime sheets, but generally done not much of anything. Occasionally he'd strolled out around his kingdom, listening in on the conversations and wishing a shout would come up. It was all very well having an easy start but this was taking it too far. He didn't trust it when it was so quiet.

From his office, he could see Cartwright walk over to Tyler, watch their brief conversation. He had no idea what was going on there, which annoyed him no end. He usually knew every detail of what went on in this station, prided himself on it, but here was this thing happening with those two and he couldn't figure it out. There were times when it looked like they might end up rolling around on one of the desks, snogging the faces off each other, and then there were times, like today, when they were obviously being friendly but something was lacking. Tyler's face, usually so easy to read, had a frozen look about it, especially around the eyes. He was shutting Cartwright out, and neither she nor Gene had any idea why.

He thought he might try to find out, since there was no other detective work needing doing. As Cartwright walked away, Gene stepped quietly from the office and over to Sam's desk. He could see that Tyler had some papers open in front of him, and a pen in his hand, but in the time it took Gene to cross the distance from office to desk he didn't see him write a single word. He didn't look up straight away, even when Gene's shadow fell across him. He really must be deep in thought; Gene thought he recognised a guilty conscience when he saw one. But guilty about what?

Sam finally looked up, regarding the Guv from under long lashes. Gene had never noticed anyone's eyelashes before, least of all another bloke, but right now it seemed unbelievable that Tyler's hadn't caught his attention before now. They looked soft, shading his dark hazel eyes, all part of Sam's girly charm. If you liked that sort of thing. Neither spoke at first, lost in their own thoughts, but Gene came back to himself.

'Morning Tyler. How was the head on Saturday?'

'Yeah alright,' Sam smiled ruefully. 'Think I maybe had one too many.'

'One? You were out of your depth Sunbeam. Swayin in the breeze. I, on the other hand, could have finished that bottle meself and still driven home.'

Sam looked concerned. 'I thought you walked?'

'Don't get your knickers in a twist, Gladys, I did. Couldn't be bothered with your nagging, could I?'

Sam nodded, appeased.

'Come on, we're going out,' commanded the Guv. Sam raised an eyebrow. 'Well, if the shouts aren't going to come to us, maybe we should go to them.' Sam didn't look convinced but got up anyway, lifting his coat. They filed out, not bothering to explain to the others. They knew better then to question the Guv, anyway, he thought with some pride.

They drove around, passing some of the usual haunts for the city's troublemakers, but there was nothing to see.

'All quiet on the Western Front,' said Sam. Gene laughed, once, his stony face not flickering. Sam lapsed back into silence, feeling a bit uncomfortable in it. Usually when the Guv was quiet like this it meant that a storm was brewing, and while The Fear had abated on Saturday afternoon and not returned all weekend, some of its more concerning ideas were coming back to the surface. Was the Guv regretting their conversation outside the pub that much? Or was there something else, something about their brief skin contact and unblinking eyes?

'Thanks, Sam,' said Gene, almost making Sam jump. For a moment he couldn't process what the other man had said, it was so unexpected.

'What for?'

'Not telling anyone, you know...' Gene glanced over at the passenger seat quickly, then back to the road. Sam didn't really know what to say.

'Well, who would I tell? Me and Ray aren't exactly best buddies,' he managed, over pronouncing the Americanism, hoping it might lighten the atmosphere.

'No, but it might not have done you any harm to let it slip to Cartwright when you were having your little chat this morning. Might have made you seem clever. Might finally have got her knickers off.' He gave another fleeting glance over, to see what effect this had had. Sam gave a disapproving look, by reflex, at the way Gene spoke about women.

'Of course not,' he said dismissively. He was surprised Gene had noticed him talking to Annie earlier, he'd thought the Guv had been buried in hated paperwork in his office. He felt a flash of guilt, again, when he remembered their conversation. Why? Why did it have to be so difficult? And if the Guv had started noticing he was probably in for some jibes about it, if not now then before long. And once that started, CID would be like a playground, with all the lads joining in. Someone might even sing 'K-I-S-S-I-N-G' - though, thinking about it, 'My Ding-a-Ling' would be more likely. He could do without it, whatever it would be.

'What's going on with you and Cartwright then, anyway?' There it was. Damn. Sam looked down at his hands, wondering what to say. He knew the Guv would want some flippant reply, preferably with some sexual innuendo thrown in, but he couldn't bring himself to speak like that about Annie. He had no idea how to sum it all up and present it in a way the the Guv would understand and, if he was lucky, accept without too much mockery. Nothing came to mind.

'Nothing, Guv,' he said, flatly, shifting his gaze to look out of the window. He didn't think it would be enough, but how was he supposed to confide to Gene his innermost thoughts and feelings, confused and unbelievable as they were? People already gave him looks when he forgot that he was supposed to be from Hyde, or mentioned TV programmes that nobody had ever heard of. Annie was the only one who had heard the whole, crazy story and, bless her, she had kept it to herself.
As predicted, the Guv wasn't ready to let it lie. 'Doesn't seem like nothing. You two are quite the topic of choice, these days.' He spoke with a slightly sniffy tone, like a disapproving landlady. Sam shrugged out at the passing warehouses.

'Well, it is. Nothing. People like to talk round here.'

There was more silence, still feeling too heavy. They drew up at some traffic lights, and the Guv looked over at him properly. He had a considering look on his face, weighing up Sam's response. Sam tried not to, but found himself looking back aggressively.

'What?' he snapped. Gene said nothing for a little longer, then gave his own one-shouldered shrug.

'Don't know what to believe about you, Sammy-boy. You're a mystery, aren't yer?'

Sam sighed. 'That's me Guv. One big mystery wrapped in an enigma.'

'Misery wrapped in an enema, more like,' Gene shot back. Sam didn't react at all. He was feeling thoroughly pissed off, he had troubles enough without getting dragged out on a pointless excursion that seemed mainly to be a front for the Guv prying into his personal life. Since when did Gene want to have a heart to heart with him, anyway?

Well, he supposed Friday had been a bit of a heart to heart... but that's not how it was supposed to go. You didn't automatically have to tell someone all your troubles just because they spilled their own on a drunken night at the pub. He was working his way into a right fury here, but he was beyond talking himself down. Bugger Gene, he was getting nothing.

The lights changed and Gene roared off with his customary lack of finesse. He was surprised by Sam's obvious anger. He was only asking a few questions, for the love of God, it wasn't the Spanish Inquisition. He hadn't even got any answers, that was the worst of it. No crimes to punish and no answers from his own DI. Not a good state of affairs. The silence in the car wasn't the usual easy silence of people who had nothing that needed said, it was most definitely an Atmosphere. Gene hated Atmospheres.

He spared another glance across and was rewarded with Tyler's profile, eyes fixed out of the window, mouth drawn up into a scowl. Bloody hell, he was in a right strop. This business with Cartwright must be getting to him. Gene brought his eyes back to the road, turning past yet more warehouses and cursing the absence of anything to do. Movement caught his eye and he looked over.

'Oh look!' he said, with false cheer. 'It's our pal Briggs!' This drew some reaction from Tyler, who looked out at the man walking along ahead of them. He said nothing, so Gene carried on.

'Let's stop for a chat, shall we?' Matching his actions to his words, he sped up until they had just passed Briggs, then slammed on the brakes and hopped out of the car. Briggs was a fence, and one who could usually be counted on to spill any nefarious activities that had somehow gone under the CID's radar. Sam rolled down his window, refusing to jump just because the Guv said so.

'Hello Briggs,' said Gene, sauntering up to the man. 'How's business?'

Briggs looked at the Guv, eyes wide and looking like a rabbit in the headlights. Then, without warning, he turned and ran back the way he'd come, casting one frightened look over his shoulder as he went.

'OI!' Gene roared, setting off in pursuit.

'Shit,' Sam hissed, grabbing the radio. 'Alpha One, this is eight seven zero, Tyler. Leaving the vehicle, setting off in pursuit, Chatsworth Road.' He was half out of the car before he'd even finished, and didn't wait for Phyllis to respond before he dashed off down the street. He hoped the Guv had taken the keys out of the Cortina. He caught up to the pursuer as Briggs ducked down an alley. Neck and neck with the Guv, Sam followed, his whole being focused on the chase. He could hear Gene panting, now just behind him, and turned the corner to see the door of an abandoned building, still swinging from being slammed open. He followed without hesitation. He could hear footsteps but couldn't decide whether their quarry had gone off up the staircase to the right or straight across the now-empty factory floor and through the doorway on the opposite side. He slowed down, trying to listen, but the echoes in this place made it impossible. Gene had come to a halt at his back. Both stood where they were, breathing hard and looking around for any evidence of Briggs' whereabouts. He'd either stopped running or got away, because the sound of his footsteps had gone. For all they knew, the door on the other side of the building led straight back out into the street.

Sam looked at Gene for instruction. There was none forthcoming. He gestured up the stairs nodding at Gene, then at the door while holding a hand on his own chest. The message was obvious - let's split up. Gene shook his head, and all Sam's anger came flooding back.

'Why not?' he asked in an angry whisper. 'He's in here somewhere.' Gene's face started to show familiar signs of his own anger.

'Because I said so, that's why not and that's good enough for you, Tyler,' he retorted, in a similarly low register. He glared at his DI, daring him to challenge him.

'Well what ground-breaking plan do you have then, Guv?' He pronounced the title like an insult, loading it with sarcasm. Gene's lips pursed as he glowered, and he took a big step nearer to Sam, not quite in his face yet but not far off it.

'I plan to listen for Briggs making a break for it, which he will because he's shit scared, and then I plan on catching him and beating the crap out of him for wasting my time, which he probably is.' His flushed face leaned closer and he locked eyes with Sam, inviting disagreement.
'You'd probably get a bit further with that plan if you stopped talking and actually used your ears for a change,' the retort came, neither man whispering any longer, and Gene took the last half step that put him right in Tyler's space, hands still lowered but shoulders squared and maintaining his hostile glare. Sam shifted his stance just a little, preparing for the inevitable shove that would start today's fist fight.

'You little...'

'Oh what? What now? Fairy? Poof? Smug git? Or are you going for something original today? I can hardly wait to hear...'

He was cut off by a blow to the stomach; he should have been expecting it but damn it, the man was quick. He never gave anything away in his eyes, that was the trouble. This thought went across Sam's head in a split second as he bent forwards, winded. He spun himself to catch the knee that was aimed at his kidneys. He grabbed with both hands and twisted, sending Gene off balance and stumbling. Sam kept his hold on the other man's leg and pushed with the considerable might of the anger he'd been building up for the last half hour or so. Gene toppled backwards, falling against the metal railings of the staircase. He sprang forward again, running at Sam with eyes flashing, and landed a clumsy but solid punch on his jaw. Sam felt lucky that the blow was left handed, it had been enough to make his head swim and a shot with the right would have taken him down like a ton of bricks. He tucked his head in behind his hands and blocked the follow up punch, then aimed a blow of his own at Gene's chin. He found his hand caught, arm twisted round and up his back, and his whole body forced round and across the floor until he was pressed against the handrail, wincing. Gene had got him yet again, and Sam cursed out loud, then grunted as his arm was pushed further up between his shoulder blades.

'Are you done?' asked Gene, his breath hot on Sam's neck as he stood in close again. 'Cos I could do this all day.' Sam usually knew better than to struggle, but not today. He leaned his weight on the handrail and used the purchase to stamp on the Guv's foot, hard. For once, he took Gene by surprise, and the pressure on his arm let up. He spun round and shoved, meaning to create a bit of distance. He got half a step, which wasn't really enough but he'd take it. Working fast, he ducked in under the right hook Gene was throwing at him and hooked his right leg around behind the Guv's knee, pushing on his shoulders. The Guv pivoted around Sam's leg, as planned, and fell to the ground. The only problem was that Sam hadn't managed to get himself out of the way in time and lost his footing; Gene grabbed at his leather jacket and dragged him down to the concrete next to him. He fell badly, winding himself again, and lay there wheezing.

Neither man made a move to get up, or to continue their fight. Even if they did have a scrap more often than Sam could really give credit to, they at least had the dignity not to roll around on the floor like schoolboys. Eventually, Gene said, 'Not bad for you, Sammy-boy,' drew his cigarettes from his pocket and proceeded to light one. Sam rolled his head to look at him, and saw a calm face, mouth sending streams of smoke towards the grey ceiling. Sam had no reply to this grudging compliment, and no breath to say it with even if he had. He rolled his head back and stared straight up. After a minute or two, he heard footsteps, and Briggs shuffled over, looking down at the two men.

'Er... Are you looking for me?' he asked, still looking frightened but with an added level of confusion over the sight of CID's finest lying in a half-tangled heap on the floor. He must have been hiding somewhere right next to them, Sam thought. What an embarrassment.

'Yeh - give us a hand up, would you?' said Gene, holding out one hand to the man. The fence took it, nervously, and helped the Guv to his feet. Once there, he dusted himself off and took a final draw of his cigarette, pitching it across the room when he was done. Then, without warning, he grabbed Briggs by the lapels and lifted him so he could shout face to face.

'What are you playing at, running? When I want to talk to you, you say 'how high?', you got that?' Sam opened his mouth to correct him, but thought better of it. 'I ought to charge you with causing an affray! Now you tell me what you know, you little prick, or I'll have you banged up quicker than you can say 'police brutality'.'

Briggs was quaking now. 'I don't know nuffing Guv I swear! I only ran cos you was chasing me!'

Sam actually believed him, and Gene obviously did too since he put him back on his feet. Briggs was a squealer, you only had to look at him crosswise for him to confess everything he knew; being held off the ground by an angry Gene Hunt would have had him spilling his guts in double time.

'Nothing doing then? No jobs you might want to drop us a hint about, on the down low and out of the goodness of your heart?'

Briggs shook his head vehemently. 'I've got nuffing!' he said again.

'Well piss off then,' said the Guv, and Briggs didn't need to be told twice, and scampered off out the door. Gene turned to find Sam still on the ground, sitting up now. He offered his hand, and Sam took it, hauling himself to his feet but not unwary of a fresh attack. You couldn't put anything past the Guv, not if you had any sense. They stood facing each other, Sam tensed and Gene casual, hands in pockets.

'Feeling better?' he asked mildly. Sam, who was definitely not feeling better, gave him a hard look. Gene knew the younger man didn't get the same sense of satisfaction from a good fight as he did, though he couldn't understand it. With any other bloke that would be them back to an even keel again. With Sam, you had to talk about things, always talking. Never an apology though; Gene hadn't gone soft.

'D'you wanna take another pop at me?' he asked, not above goading Tyler when he was in a bad mood. It briefly looked as though this time the suggestion might be appealing , but he kept himself in check.

'I think we've got better things to do than scrap in some abandoned building,' he gave back, voice thick with superiority. Gene turned the corners of his mouth down, a facial shrug.

'I suppose we might have, by now. Still, though - not bad.' This praise, faint and inappropriate as it was, actually seemed to appease Sam.

'Yeah, well... My Taekwondo instructor would say otherwise.' He felt his jaw tenderly then flexed his wrist with a slight grimace.

Gene had no idea what Tyler was on about. It wasn't good form to always go about admitting your ignorance though. He did what he always did, and pretended Tyler hadn't said anything.

'Ready to get back to the car?'

'If it's still there,' Sam replied, smirking a bit at the thought of Gene losing his precious Cortina to a joyrider.

'Of course it's still there you prick,' he snapped, tugging the keys out of his pocket and shaking them. 'Even if I didn't have these, which I do, nobody would nick my motor.'

Sam nodded, knowing the Guv was right, and looked down at the ground. Without realising it, he'd adopted the other man's posture, hands in pockets and standing at ease. Gene had noticed, and approved. Sam had mentioned this thing in the pub one night; mirroring, he called it. He'd been telling Chris about getting on with birds and how to know if they liked you and all that. Apparently when people had respect for each other, they would unconsciously match their body language. Something to do with how we were all monkeys once and subconscious urges. Gene had tuned in and out of the discussion, bored with all the chatter and waiting for the good bit. Anyway, he could see Tyler doing it now and he approved; if you didn't have respect, you didn't have anything.

He was pretending to himself that Sam hadn't used the word 'fancied' and not 'respected'.

They walked back to the car, which was predictably exactly where they'd left it. Sam took a slight, uneasy pride when Gene limped on his first few steps. They climbed back into their accustomed seats, and got back on the road. Sam radioed in to Phyllis, letting her know they were back in the vehicle and travelling.

Silence reigned again at first, though a more natural absence of talk than it had been before. Sam started to think he'd got away with not talking about Annie any more, with which he was more than happy. He leaned forward to turn on the radio when the Guv spoke.

'Look, Tyler, I have to know what's going on with Cartwright. Can't have her batting her eyelashes at you all day and not doing any work.'

Sam sat back, sighing openly. He didn't otherwise respond, so Gene tried again.

'I'm not trying to give you a hard time. Just tell me if you two have been bumping uglies and we can say no more about it.'

Sam whirled round as much as he could in the confined space. 'Would you just bloody leave it? Nothing is happening. Nothing has happened.' He paused. 'Nothing will ever happen.'

Gene heard something in his tone that surprised him. He knew Tyler could make a mountain out of an anthill but he would have thought he was above getting hung up over a piece of skirt, at least. Someone had his bollocks in a vice, anyway, though he was starting to wonder if it was Cartwright after all.

'Knock you back, did she?' It was a cheap shot, but he was tired of the gentle approach. Well, gentler, anyway. Sam's eyes flashed again.

'Would you just leave it?'

'No I will not leave it, Tyler, I order you to tell me what the bloody hell is going on! Now!' Gene's roar filled the cramped space, making Sam blink involuntarily.

Sam had no idea what was going to get him out of this. He couldn't explain what was going on, not when he didn't know himself. It was all so confusing when he tried to think about it that he invariably had to pour himself a drink, then another, then usually a third. He was still angry with the Guv, but he was beginning to realise that he might actually be more angry at life than anything else, and using Gene as a convenient target. Even as he thought this, he felt his expression change, less rage and more sadness.

Jesus, am I going to cry? In front of Gene? Pull yourself together, man.

He got a hold of himself, looking straight ahead out of the windscreen again instead of over at Gene. He took a deep breath, then let it out when he still had no idea what to say. On his second attempt, he managed something:

'I like Annie, and I think she probably likes me too...'

'Very good, Sherlock,' came the interruption. Sam ignored it.

'...but there is nothing going on except a normal, friendly relationship between two colleagues.' This time Gene snorted. Sam was exasperated but the anger of before had definitely dissipated. He struggled again for the right words.

'So, you can forget about it, because nothing is ever going to happen. My situation is too complicated to get involved with anyone.' He gazed morosely out of the window, hating this conversation, hating the truths it was making him face up to.

'Whaddyou mean, situation? You haven't got the clap, have you?' Sam rolled his eyes. God help us, the man was determined to wind him up.

'I'm not gonna dignify that with a response,' he said, primly. Gene was lighting another fag, didn't reply.

'It's just, there's someone else. Kind of. Well, there used to be. And, you know, I'll be going back to Hyde before long, can't commit to anything. Anyone.' Gene looked over at him, eyes shielded with smoke. Sam bore his gaze for as long as he could without returning it, but found his head drawn around nonetheless. He thought the Guv might finally be ready to let it lie.

'This someone else...' he started.

'What?' Sam asked, not snapping now but definitely testy.

There was a long pause.

'Was it a bloke?'

Gene wasn't sure what had made him ask that, what had brought it to mind, but suddenly it seemed to him that maybe all the times he'd wound Tyler up about being light on his loafers, he might not actually have been wrong. He wasn't sure how he'd feel if that was true. He turned his eyes back to the road, continuing their aimless drive, not heading back to the station yet. He could feel Sam's surprise at the question. He still hadn't answered.

'No. Not a bloke,' he said, finally. His tone was still nippy, but he didn't seem to feel the need to bluster about it, shout and swear like any other of CID would have done. As if it was a reasonable question, almost. As if the answer might have been yes.

Gene tried to figure out what he really thought here. Everyone gave Tyler abuse about being a girly nonce but he'd never thought it was actually true. Alright, he had some funny ideas, dressed like a twat and never talked about shagging with the rest of them, but you could tell he was looking at women, usually when he thought nobody was paying attention. Gene had never seen him look at another man that way.

Well, maybe apart from...

Gene felt a flutter of unease that was absolutely not tinged with interest.

'Alright Sammy-boy, I believe yer. I'll leave it out, about Cartwright.'

Sam spread his hands, leaning his head back on the seat and rolling his eyes heavenward. 'Thank you,' he said, not sounding in the least grateful.

'Let's get back and see if there hasn't been some lovely crime or other for us to sort out.'

Saying that, Gene drove them back to the station.