Work Text:
“Not correct procedure” Sam muttered, as he angrily paced the empty CID office.
“Sod it!” he proclaimed as he spied the Coat. He quickly found and guzzled the contents of one of the infamous flasks.
His thirst for whisky was quickly forgotten as he doubled over in pain, the flask fell to the earth and a sludge like liquid oozed from the neck.
Groggily he raised his head and peered at his reflection in the glass door.
He promptly fainted as a ruggedly handsome blond stared back at him.
Sam never heard the anguished shouts from within the battered filing cabinet.
