themanclion: (kitty!gene - rar!)
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{{continued from here.}}

Gene made it to his room before he went lionish. Ripped a pillow to shreds. And the sheets. That'll be wonderful to explain.

And he's still angry and humiliated and... For reasons even he doesn't entirely understand, or at least won't admit to, he's going looking for Sam.

"Pathetic" might just be an accurate assessment, come to think of it, but see if he gives a toss. Sam wants him around, and that's enough for him right there. He just needs... company, of some sort.

Doesn't bother turning human, though he avoids people as best he can on the way to Sam's room, and ends up thumping on Sam's door with a paw, tail all atwitch.

Date: 2008-08-10 10:51 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
That... doesn't exactly sound like a human knocking, but Sam got used to Maya doing this back at the hotel, so he goes to open the door with only a little confusion. Just as long as it's not a ghost, he'll be fine.

He ends up blinking down at Gene for a moment, and then asked mildly, "Can I help you?" He doesn't look like a happy lion, and now Sam's a little worried. Both about what happened and what he might have done.

Date: 2008-08-10 11:03 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Sam doesn't move for a second, just stands there with one hand on the door, watching with a slightly perplexed expression as Gene starts pacing around his room. After a moment, he decides to leave the door open in case Gene feels the need to leave, and moves to sit down on the edge of his bed, leaning forward with forearms braced against thighs.

"I assume it won't do any good asking what happened."

Date: 2008-08-10 11:25 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Sam smiles, just a little, seeing Gene facepalm, just because it's very hard not to smile, seeing a lion do that. He's pretty certain Gene's not going to bite him for it.

And then there's a lion with paws and head on the bed beside him, and Sam blinks a little. This is the point at which he would reach over and ruffle Maya's fur in an attempt to be comforting, but... that's Maya. It's different with Gene. It's always different with Gene.

"Something for you," he says at length, leaning over the bed to retrieve the box of Glenlivet underneath it. "Gift from Jack. Sorry it's a few months late." It was an interesting few months, and Gene was a chipmunk for a good chunk of that time. Sam thinks he can be forgiven.

Date: 2008-08-10 11:50 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Sam suppresses a laugh, because he can tell exactly what Gene is thinking and... well. Again, he's a lion. Some things are just inherently amusing when it's a lion doing them.

"If you like, I'll hold onto it for you and you can come back when you're human. Or I can drop it off at your room." Because he's not seeing Gene being able to carry it in his current shape.

Date: 2008-08-10 12:04 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Sam is not going to argue with the lion. He doesn't think Gene would do anything to him if he did - well, anything much - but even so. You don't argue with a bloody lion.

And it's not as if he has anything better to do at the moment.

He rises to his feet, grabs the Glenlivet, and starts after him toward the door.

Date: 2008-08-10 12:25 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Sam waits patiently outside, and when Gene opens the door again, he glances from Gene, past Gene to the chaos inside the room, and then to the Glenlivet. It has been a long couple weeks. It's an easy question to answer.

"Do you have to ask?" Although now that Gene's human, Sam has to decide whether or not he asks what's got him pacing around as a lion and apparently destroying his room.

Date: 2008-08-10 12:40 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Sam steps into the room and takes a moment to quietly survey the wreckage. Could've been worse. No furniture seems to have been broken, and they're bound to have spare sheets and pillows somewhere in the building.

"I'll manage," he answers dryly, still looking at the room rather than at Gene, and decides to wait until Gene's got some scotch in him before he asks what brought all this about.

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Date: 2008-08-10 03:01 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Sam lets out a long, tired sigh, and considers the bottle. He shouldn't have another drink, probably, but he's certainly not going to have this conversation sober. He reaches for the bottle, takes another drink, and sets it back down, letting his chair drop back onto all four legs as he does. Sam's trying not to think now about how he's going to make his way back up to his room.

"So that's it, then. Just pretend it never happened, over and done with." Sam himself couldn't quite say why he just said that - isn't that what they've both been doing anyway, pretending it didn't happen? It's probably not the best idea, examining his own logic right now. He's not thinking clearly and he knows it.

Date: 2008-08-10 03:19 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Sam closes his eyes. It makes his head spin more than it was already, but it saves him having to look at Gene for the moment, stops the twisted up feeling in his gut for just a second. And there's that word again. Pathetic. Obviously something Gene's taken to heart, a bit. Sam finds himself wanting to find Nate and punch him, though it's a vague, distant kind of want. He'd have to move to find him anyway.

He opens his eyes again, finally. "I'm not... forcing you to stay. I want you to, but... don't think you have to just because I asked."

Date: 2008-08-10 03:46 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Sam snorts a little. He's a good enough thingy. Touching, really. "I'm sorry," he says, and that couldn't be more sincere. He really is sorry. To Gene, to anyone who speaks to him. It's not fair that everyone's secrets get dredged up around him, just because he can't help it.

He glances away for a moment, to the door, like he's considering leaving. He shifts his gaze after a moment, though he doesn't make a move to stand; neither does he look back at Gene. Instead, he fixes his gaze on some point on the ceiling, in the opposite side of the room. "No one ever told me," he says slowly, "the rules to this kind of thing. Things were different then. When I was coming up."

Different then, different in 1973, different now. Sam's life is so full of shifting rules and shifting truths he doesn't even know where he stands now, where he's supposed to stand. The constants aren't anymore. Nothing makes sense.

Date: 2008-08-10 04:23 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Sam closes his eyes again and sinks down into his chair a little, just enough that he can lean his head against the chair back, head tilted far back so he'd be staring straight up at the ceiling were his eyes open. "I'm not sure I can succinctly answer that question," he says with a wry not-quite smile.

He turns it over, for a moment, and then sighs, shaking his head. "All those things I tried to tell you - that's what I was taught. Different sort of rules. This is..." His coherency is not at its best right now. Nor, apparently, is his ability to censor what he's saying before it leaves his mouth. "We got... the things you hear, gossip and some DC who hangs himself in his flat because of it. The things you do at university when you're drunk. It was just..."

He trails off, shakes his head again. Does he even know what he's trying to say anymore? No, he's actually fairly certain he didn't know what he was trying to say when he started out. "It's just like she says - Becky - it doesn't matter. There are laws. But it does matter. Because you're a police officer, and in the eyes of the public you're held to a... higher standard. It doesn't matter to the law. It doesn't matter to people like Becky. But in the eyes of the public you're still-"

Sam stops. He's speaking in the second person, but it doesn't sound like he means it that way, not in his tone, the slow and halting way the words tumble out. Definitely shouldn't have had that last drink.

Date: 2008-08-10 05:06 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Sam opened his eyes at some point in there, lifted his head and just watched Gene. This isn't a conversation they should be having. This isn't something they should be talking about. Because you just don't. Never mind that they're neither of them coppers anymore, never mind that they're in 2008 and with Torchwood and... that's not the point.

"The signals," Sam repeats quietly, with a soft, rough laugh. He wonders if Gene means just about this, or about... everything, all of it. He decides not to ask. "Different time. Different world. I would imagine the signals are different."

A part of him can't believe he's saying this - any of it. A part of him doesn't care, he's just so tired and it's out already and there's no reason not to say any of it, at this point. He wishes he could say a part of him's glad to say it - if it is, it's all buried under shouldn't, can't, stop it, shut up now...

Date: 2008-08-10 05:47 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Sam nods, leaning forward very carefully so he doesn't tip over, resting his elbows on his thighs and his forehead against one palm, fingers tangled in his hair. He's not looking at Gene anymore. Easier that way. "Right," he says, half to Gene, half to himself. "Of course."

He can do that. This is it, and then this conversation didn't happen, just like the kiss didn't happen and they can just... carry on as they always have. Not so hard.

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Gene Hunt

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