Eight Random DrabblesAuthor: danae_bRating:
White Cortina (some established relationship, some gen, some friendship, some hints of OT3)Characters:
1) Sam and Gene (Sam/Gene); 2) Sam and CID et al; 3-5) Sam, Annie, Gene (Sam/Annie, Sam/Gene); 6-8) Sam, Annie, Gene (OT3-ish)Word Count:
8 x 100Notes:
One final batch of make-up drabbles inspired by the weekly challenge, though the future could always hold more!Such a Special DaySam and Gene (Sam/Gene)
Prompt was 'calendar'
'D'you know why today was so special, Guv?'
'Cause it was Tuesday?'
Sam laughs, all loose and carefree, mashing his nose against Gene's neck. Gene (only half as pissed) lets Sam push him back to the wall, no fighting it. 'No, not that.'
'What then? I don't keep a calender in my pocket, spill the ruddy beans already.' It's half-hearted snark, Sam so heavy and pliant against him.
'S'me.' Sam nuzzles. Gene groans. 'Been here a year now, hadn't you noticed?' No response is forthcoming, Sam's lips so pleasantly warm. The words that follow are muffled. 'Happy anniversary to me.'
–Bound and DeterminedSam and CID et al
Prompt was 'cake'
The banner was Ray's suggestion, the cake a collaboration between Annie and Chris, all the other decorations split between Phyllis and the remaining detectives of CID. Sam's going to have a birthday worth remembering, and maybe even finally get it through that thick skull of his that this is where he belongs.
So Gene keeps him out all afternoon, gives the others time to set things up. Sam's in a fair enough mood, and Gene is keeping him plenty busy. He seems none the wiser.
The party's a success, a complete surprise: only Sam Tyler could forget his own birthday.
–HabitualSam, Annie, Gene (Sam/Annie, Sam/Gene)
Prompt was 'habit', set of three drabbles
She never meant for it to become a habit, Sam walking her home. Sometimes he kisses her on the cheek before smiling, heading off – other times, she asks him in for tea. She mostly doesn't mind it, them taking it slow – whatever happens, will happen. Seeing as it's Sam, Annie's sure it'll be well worth the wait.
There's no more talk about comas, or of him being from the future, and Annie knows it's for the best. She wouldn't believe him, she's never believed that
, and their future couldn't survive it, that madness of his chipping away at her trust.
It was an easy enough habit to pick up, him shoving Sam against whatever hard surface was handy. Sam had, from the start, been an argumentative pain in the arse – Gene was only playing fair. The problem
arose when Sam, forgoing fists, kissed
him. Gene should have punched him for that one too, only he didn't. Now there's no taking it back.
It complicated an already complicated relationship, and neither of them changed – Sam, particularly, was still stubborn, argumentative, and self-righteous on top of all that.
Why that's not the problem it should be, Gene must be cracked. Or worse.
He never meant for it to become a habit, him needing them the way he does. Pendulum and fulcrum, unavoidable necessities – there's no escaping the truth, just like there's no escaping life in 1973. It's going to be 1974 before he knows it, but there's no existing without them
Sam: never knows when to quit, he's already asked for too much. It's clear he's gone off the deep end, could his mum and Maya ever forgive him, understand
? He hates himself, for thinking it, for feeling it: he's never felt so right
There's no going back, the future is now.
–Brighter ShadesSam, Annie, Gene (OT3-ish)
Prompt was 'bright' (first), 'dull' (second), and I used both for the third; set of three drabbles
Bright white softens to yellow-tinted dinginess, the pock-marked ceiling coming into focus. Sam blinks (once, twice) to help it along, brain stuffed with cotton, mouth painfully dry. 'Gene?' His throat aches from disuse. There's some noise, the scrape of plastic on tile.
'Sam.' It's Annie, sweetly urgent, somewhere above and beyond. 'Guv, he's woken up!'
He tilts his head to look at her, can only just manage. He thinks he smiles, and she smiles in return, a sheen of tears in her eyes. 'We've been waiting so long,' she says, words quivering. He only then notices she's holding his hand.
Gene's been keeping himself occupied, for better or for worse. If he's not waiting at the hospital with Annie, he's working too much and kicking seven types of shit out of whatever annoying scrote gets in his way. He's tired, but he's also incredibly stubborn. This isn't the end.
He hears Annie say the impossible, throws his cigarette down and crushes it out. If, after three long, hellish months, when the dull-witted, damnable doctors doubted it would happen, Sam's woken up...
He rests his hand on the door, knows Annie's sat at Sam's bedside, only Gene? Can only see Sam.
It seems like such dumb luck, Gene being there at just the right time. Now, after Sam's doctor and nurse shooed them from the room, they're back in the hall, waiting. Gene's feeling more than enough for the both of them, and Annie's glad for the reprieve. She's standing to the side, but he's the one who's pacing, smoking, scowling, and then pacing some more.
It's something bright after too much dull misery, and even though the shock has died down, Annie's hopes are running wild. This is it, Sam's come back to them. Everything is going to be okay.