Archive of Our Own

Title: Equilateral -- A Love Story in Three Parts Part 2  
Rating: Green Cortina (PG-13 for language)
Pairing: Sam/Gene/OFC (Cynthia Baxter)
Summary: Three people's views of the same marriage. Written for the lovely ladygrey as part of the help_nz auction. She's graciously allowed me to share it here.
Warnings: This is in Gene's POV and it's A2A quasicompliant. All the way through series 3 compliant. But I just changed the circumstances for some people.

The Lost Soul You Can’t Leave Behind

Gene knew what was coming the day Sam disappeared. It happened to them all eventually. He just wished Sammy would have held on a little bit longer after his swan dive. The bloody bastard could be a ruddy stubborn ass when he wanted to, so why hadn’t he clung on to life like the last curly wurly in a shop? Because he’d been itching to come back, that’s why. And stupid, stupid Gene had never thought to warn him. Hadn’t had time. Hadn’t sat his dozy DI down and explained to him the way things worked. He shouldn’t have pretended he didn’t hear the phones, or the voices. He should have told the rest of them to acknowledge them, even if just subtly, as well. 

Usually they ignored the voices and the newest recruit acclimated quickly. But with Sam they should have done something different. Especially when the body he left behind kept fighting. He just hadn’t wanted to see the absolute fear he knew would be there in Sam’s face when he realized what had happened to him. He’d seen it more than a few times in old recruits and it never got any easier. Instead of facing it he’d let Sam handle the knowledge of what they were on his own. He should have known the doozy git would figure it out eventually. That didn’t change the fact his boy hadn’t gotten all the more subtle rules down before his leap for freedom.

He’d stayed away from the boy that would become his man for as long as possible. Enjoyed what he had with Cindyloo and spoiled his daughter rotten. Once he’d reached his cash out time in London he retired and started making noises about missing home. He thought Cindy might have an idea about why he needed to leave London, she was a pretty clever bird about most things, but she never said anything so either did he. Not even when they drove by the London Constabulary’s Training College and he watched a young Eugene Hunter on the practice range with Ray Skelton as Chris ran laps around the obstacle course. Carling never could figure out how to properly scale a wall.

Once they reached Manchester and had Janine in the very best comprehensive all that dirty money he’d once collected could buy, he started watching the boy again. He still had a few friends on the force and none of them minded keeping an eye on Sam Tyler’s bastard boy. After all it’s what any copper would do for a brother.

He could tell Cindy was doing the same thing when she came home and announced that the paperwork had cleared for her transfer back into Manchester’s SOCO. Of course it had. He was pretty sure Oswald had run the paperwork from office to office to get all the necessary signatures to bring her back. Not bad for an old codger of 76 who needed a cane to get around.

He’d thrown up a token protest because hell, he was the Guv and she couldn’t think that she slipped something by him. So he sent Janine round to her best friend Marjorie’s, put on his best green shirt and sat down on the barcalounger to wait, his lips pursed and his cock hard. She was always glorious when he had her back up about something.

He knew the day she saw PC Sam Tyler for the first time. The only time Cindyloo after lost her chips at dinner before was when she’d been knocked up. Janine had made her toss her lunch from just the smell of food and their poor boy... Well he didn’t want to think about their tiny boy and the way he’d struggled for air. It had nearly killed Sam watching the two of them. Split them up, her struggling to survive the hemorrhage in one room and their boy fighting to breathe in the other. He’d taken to watching the babe and let Sam take Cindy while the rest of the team had taken turns watching Janine. Best to leave the living to each other and keep his own peace with the already dead.

She didn’t mention Sam Tyler when she was hunched over the toilet though, so either did he. Just like he’d never mentioned knowing too much about the dead things in the world and how he seemed to always bring them forth. They both kept silent with their own secrets and let things lie.

The week before it was time he took her out to dinner and a night of dancing on the town. All their old haunts. Flowers, wine, a bit of the Gene Genie magic and she was putty in his hands. Even after all their years together. Once they were home he pulled her close and slow danced with her around the parlour, humming Rocket Man as they swayed.

The night before he died Gene Hunt insisted on a family dinner out. The whole family. Ray, Chris, Cindy, Annie, Janine. Even Nelson found the time to come around before his train to London. He didn’t stay to eat, just had a glass of wine and gave Gene a hug as he left.

“God speed mon bra,” Nelson whispered in his ear.

“Make it quick my friend,” Gene replied grimly as he patted the other man on the back and watched him go.

He waited a lifetime for them to appear. He married to kill time and killed a part of his soul instead. He drank with Nelson and waited as the rest of them arrived. Ray and Chris first, in an odd mash up of themselves where personality quirks, names and appearances all smashed together in strange amalgamations of what they had once been. Chris blamed the accident. Ray stayed silent about it. Gene and Nelson both held their tongues. It wouldn’t do any good to let either man know that they knew it wasn’t a drunken motoring accident that had taken them and the fact that the horny bastards had been too drunk and too randy to pull off the train crossing before Chris got himself balls deep.

Then, one day Sam simply arrived and once again Gene was alive. Fighting crime, feeling. But still he knew he was waiting. Waiting for someone that wasn’t quite clear in his mind. A face in a photograph that had faded a bit with age. He divorced his wife and waited. He made love to Sam and he waited. And some part of him thought Sam waited as well. Waited for the missing piece.

He knew it was her the first moment he saw her again. 25 years old and the ink barely dry on her degree. Eyes as wide as a rabbit’s in the waiting room, he smiled as she bit her lower lip and straightened her skirt for the fifty third time in five minutes.

“You know Rathbone isn’t going to sign off on a woman on the forensics’ team,” Oswald muttered as they stared at Dr. Cynthia Baxter from the top of the staircase.

“She’s good, you know it. I know it.”

“I know she’s good,” Oswald answered. “Bloody brilliant for a bird. But she’s still a bird.”

“Scotland Yard wanted her,” Gene shrugged. 

“You can’t tell me Rathbone wouldn’t love to steal her out from underneath their noses.”

“If she were Dr. Christopher Baxter. But Cynthia? I don’t think Rathbone could get past her breasts and focus on her brilliance if he had the chance to steal her from the Queen herself.”

“Hire her,” Gene shrugged. “I’ll take care of Rathbone.”

“And how will you manage that?”

“Not your concern Ozzie my friend. Just let the Gene Genie work his magic. Hire the girl and I’ll handle Rathbone.”

“She may not suit the position,” Oswald muttered.

“She’ll suit,” Gene answered confidently as he turned away from his future wife and walked away. He wondered how long it would take to introduce her to Sam.