Mrs Tufty (fawsley) wrote in 1973flashfic,
Mrs Tufty

Meta challenge; Canon? Fanon? What-the-hell-is-going-on? by fawsley

Title: Canon? Fanon? What-the-hell-is-going-on?
Author: fawsley
Rating: cracky brown Cortina
Word count: 4475
Note: for the meta challenge; total slash and cracky pervdom. You have been warned. Aboslutely no disrespect is intended to ANY writer of ANY Mars fic! Honest!

Canon? Fanon? What-the-hell-is-going-on?

Sam grappled with the sheets, with the pillow, the frame of the bed, desperate to find a hand-hold on something, anything. Gene was balls-deep inside him, filling him completely, driving hard and fast, sweat flying in rhythmic showers as he pounded again and again, shunting Sam against the headboard and into some absurd position that should surely preclude any ability to orgasm. But it didn't, and Sam came with a series of shuddering strangled cries as Gene slamed into his prostate. Gene thrust once more, deeper than ever before, growling and grunting and turning the musk-laden air blue with a litany of filth.

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'Nggghh... What is it?'

'Sam... It can't go on like this, you know...'

'Shite Gene, you don't have to tell me that! I must have said it a thousand times already.'

'I know. But it just can't. We can't. Bloody hell, I was straight as a die before you came on the scene. Look at us now! That was the sixth time today!'

'Don't have to tell me that either - I was there, remember? Across your desk, Lost and Found, down by the canal, across your desk again, across Rathbone's desk, now in my suddenly far-more-spacious-than-it-ever-was-before put-u-up bed.'

'Exactly! It's too much, Sam, even for someone as healthy and horny as the Gene Genie!'

'Well don't blame me! I had nothing to do with it. Back at the start of things I had a girlfriend, remember? Maya. We had our problems, but I loved her...'

'Girlfriend? I had a bloomin' wife!'

'Say's who? Nobody's ever actually seen her.'

'Rubbish! Chris and Ray did. Episode 2.07. When they were staking out my house.'

'Yeah but they weren't sure, were they? Said she'd put on lots of weight. Might have been your cleaning lady for all they knew, not the mysterious invisible Mrs Hunt at all! You're always happy enough to hang out with the prozzies. And remember Mrs Luckhurst? Not exactly the doting faithful husband were you, even before this malarky between us got started.'

'Malarky? There was always massive unspoken sexual tension between us, right from the start, and you damned well know it, Tyler!'

'Oh yeah? So what was all that with me and Annie then? Tell me that!'

'Lack of courage to bite the bullet. A sop for the masses. It was always the story of a love affair between two men and you know it. Remember the end of 2.08? You were quick to hop into the front with me and leave Cartwright as the filling in a back seat truncheon-meat sandwich, weren't you?'

'Don't you talk about Annie like that! She's sweet and good and wholesome. There's nothing sordid about Annie!'

'I wouldn't be so sure about that, Tyler...'

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The leather of the back seat was hot, but Annie Cartwright naked was even hotter. She slid towards Ray, hands cupping her pert breasts, offering them to him.

'He'll never know, Ray,' Annie murmured seductively. 'He's off with Sam again. He'll never know we've been here, never know what we've done...'

'Bloomin' 'eck! There was me thinking you was Snow White!'

'As long as you're not a dwarf in the parts where it really matters, Ray...'

Annie closed in for their first kiss and for a moment Ray thought he'd been blown up again, so many stars were exploding in his head.

'Your lips taste of strawberries, Cartwright.'

'Well then, you'd better find some nice thick cream to put on them, hadn't you Ray?'

She smiled, pursed those sweet lips, then licked a long slow trail down Ray's torso until she found his rigid, pulsing cock.

'Ah, not a dwarf at all. More of a giant. Mmmmm....'

Ray arched backwards and moaned as she took him right down her throat.

'Blimey Cartwright! Where d'you learn to do that?'

His eyes snapped open at the sound of the opposite door opening, though Annie never missed a beat, kept her rhythm perfect.

'Bloody hell, Chris! What you doing here? And where the hell are your clothes?'

Chris's grin swiftly morphed into a leer.

'Could ask you exactly the same thing. Or things. Anyway...' he slid down behind Annie and pulled the door closed behind him. 'Saw the Cortina all steamed up and rocking. Wondered what was happening, seeing as the Guv and the Boss aren't around. Thought I'd better investigate. And now I reckon you'd better let me join in the fun unless you want my full report on the Guv's desk for when he gets back...'

Suddenly Annie jolted and let Ray's cock slip out of her bruised mouth.

'Chris... Chris... What are you doing to me?'

'Just makin' meself comfortable, Annie. You carry on. I'll make sure you're nice and snug at both ends, so to speak.'

Chris licked one sticky finger then offered another to Ray.

'Always said she was a tasty bird, didn't I? Now hold onto your horses you two, I'm coming in!'

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'Christ! I so didn't need to witness that...'

'Which brings me back to what I was saying beforehand. We've got to stop this Sam. Before it gets any worse.'

'Worse? It could get worse than Annie being spit-roasted by Chris and Ray?'

'It could go to places your mind can't even begin to imagine. So we've got to get to the root of the problem and stamp it out. For all our sakes.'

'The sake of my poor arse most of all...'

'You with me on this one Tyler or not?'

'I'm with you Guv. But what is the root of the problem? And how on earth do we tackle it? Another attack on the Collator's Den?'

'Nah, Sammy. That's not the root. That bug did a fine job but there were still a lot of files to go when they realised what was happening. And they've got back-ups, anyway. No. It goes a lot deeper than that.'

'So you know what it is? Who it is? Who's behind it all?'

'I have my suspicions, Tyler.'

'You doing to tell me or just make me guess.'

'Not saying anything, too dangerous. Never know who's watching. Just trust me, Sammy, and follow my lead. Now. Let's go get tooled up.'


'Guns. Bastard big guns. Two each.'

'Bloody hell!'

'It will be by the time we've finished, or I'm a monkey's uncle...'

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It was only at times like these that Sam realised how much he'd slipped into the ways of 1973. Not just the food and the fashion, but more importantly how much the Guv's ways had rubbed off on him. He hoped that it worked both ways, that Gene had learned from him too, but it was difficult to tell. And now here was Grigson, the Chief Constable's shining boy, come to spend a day with them seeing how they did things at A Division. Sam couldn't help but be nervous. It was at times like these that he recognised how their methods could be interpreted as, well, primitive...

'We're going to arrest the Blackstock twins,' he explained as they sat outside a dismal terraced house in the small blue rust-bucket Sam had been allocated from the car pool.

'So what are we waiting for?' Grigson enquired.

Sam took a deep breath. He couldn't help but be worried.

'DCI Hunt,' he muttered.

'Ah. He's got the warrant, I take it?'

'I hope so, though somehow I...'

The squall of tyres pushed to their limit, the stench of burning rubber, and the Cortina slewed to a halt in a cloud of dust and debris.

'Um... He's here...'

Grigson got out and headed towards the Cortina, no doubt intending to introduce himself and perhaps offer any help that might be required. Sam could only watch in horror as the driver's door flew open and Gene Hunt in all his glory emerged. Long hair matted and filthy, heavy jaw, flared nostrils, thick-set brows with brightly fierce eyes glinting beneath them. Grigson took one, two, three shocked steps backwards. Sam groaned and got out to join him. Gene glared at them both, grunted, then turned towards the front door of the Blackstock house before launching himself at - and through - the woodwork.

All hell broke loose, shouts and screams, bangs and crashes, and above it all a wild animalistic cry of the hunter in his element. Within minutes the Blackstock twins appeared, one lobbed out of an upstairs window, the other cringing and screaming trying to escape through what remained of the front door. Gene reappeared in his wake, stood proud over the brothers' defeat, and pounded his chest in triumph.

Grigson had gone white.

'Hunt... DCI Hunt...' he stammered. 'He's.... He's.... He's a Neanderthal...'

Sam sighed. It was everything that he had dreaded.

'Yes,' he agreed, 'He is. But you have to admit he gets the job done...'

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'Bloody cheek! I'll do them for defamation of character! Neanderthal indeed...'

'I thought it was quite funny, actually.'

'I'll do you as well, Tyler!'

'You already have. Six times today...'

'Yes, yes, we already know that, don't we? Which is why we need to get a wiggle on and put a stop to all this bollocks. You ready?'


'Right. Follow me.'




'Guv! Guv! Gene! Oh no....'

'Sam... Sam...'

'What happened? What the hell happened?'

'Got hit, Sam...'

'But what by? You were just in front of me and then...'

'Was a tr....'


'Nah... Tr....'


'Nah... Tr...'


'Idiot... Trope, it was a trope that got me. Think it must have been a hurt/comfort one. Stay with me Sammy!'

'Oh God Gene! You're bleeding... Heavily... Shit! Think it might have been character death...'

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'I'm sorry, DI Tyler. We've done everything we can. Now we can only hope.'

Sam gasped and grabbed the white-coated doctor by the shoulders, shaking him hard.

'But you MUST do something! It's the Guv! You can't just let him die... I.... I... Oh God! You've got to save him for me!'

The doctor gently removed Sam's hands and patted them, shaking his head sorrowfully.

'I'm sorry. But you see he's lost a lot of blood. An awful lot of blood. Most men wouldn't have made it this far, but even so... An awful lot of blood...'

Sam flung the caring hands away, spun around and started clawing at his head.

'Then give him some more blood, for Christ's sake! More blood! You're a hospital! You must have blood! Give him some!'

'It's not as simple as that, DI Tyler.'

The doctor consulted the notes on his clipboard.

'You see, DCI Hunt has a very rare blood group. So rare I've only ever seen one other instance of it in my entire career. We can't just give him any sort of blood. It has to be of the exact same type as his. But the chances of finding someone else who matches, and be able to get their blood here in time...'

Sam snatched the clipboard and rifled through the notes.

'What rare blood group? What is it? Tell me!'

'It's very rare, I'm afraid. Type AB postive/negative. Almost mythical...'

Sam threw down the clipboard, tore off his jacket, and rolled up a sleeve.

'But I'm AB positive/negative! Give him my blood! Let me save the Guv!'

Within minutes Sam was lying on a bed next to Gene's, their arms linked by a thin tube red with Sam's precious life-saving blood. Already Gene was looking less white, and the monitor showed his pulse to be stronger, more regular.

'I'm here for you, Gene,' Sam whispered. 'I know you can't hear me, but that doesn't matter. My blood is going into your body. That unites us forever. Blood brothers. Even if you'll never know how I really feel, it's enough for me to know that our bodies are joined like this, joined by the point of a needle...'

Gene twitched and sighed.

'Always said you were a little prick, Tyler...'

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'Christ, it just gets worse! If the blood-loss doesn't kill me then that sort of writing is going to!'

'I'm not a little prick.'

'You are. Often.'

'Am not.'

'Are you going to argue like a spoiled girl all day, Tyler, or are you going to get your arse in gear and help me bring down the brains behind this horror?'

'Don't you go mentioning my arse, next thing you know we'll be at it again and I won't be able to walk straight for a week.'

'Nobody ever worries about the state of my cock. It's me that always has to do the ploughing, after all. Never get a chance to bottom.'

'Do you want to bottom?'

'No. Just saying. That's all. Now come on while we've still got a chance to escape.'

'Okay dude, let's quit the banter and beat feet out of here.'

'You what?'

'Oh shit...'

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Gene slid back under the duvet and peered at Sam, still sitting up and flicking through the remote's myriad channels.

'There's nothing on, Tyler. Forget it. Go grab me something to eat.'

Sam pouted, ignoring his Guv's command.

'Tyler! I've shagged you senseless and now I need feeding!'

Gene wrestled the remote out of Sam's grasp and tossed it across the room.

'Go get me a Big N'Tasty with cheese!'

'Go get your own.'

Sam threw back the bedclothes and padded angrily in pursuit of the remote, throwing open the drapes as he passed the window.

'Look! It's still dark! I'm not going out there just to satisfy your gut!'

'You could go to the all-nite gas station on the corner.'

'No I could not!'

Gene took another swig of his double malt Scotch whiskey and belched impressively.

'I'll suck your dick for you when you get back.'

Sam pulled on his jeans and boots, sighing as he did so.

'And get me another carton of Marlboro Lights while you're at it...'

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'Well. I suppose it could have been worse.'

'You're thinking of the US remake, aren't you?'

'Not if I can help it.'

'Has made me a bit peckish though. Haven't had a decent meal in ages. Nobody's thought to send us off to Rusholme for a curry in weeks.'

'All I ever get is yoghurt and salad.'

'No wonder you're such a skinny runt. Once we're through with this job I'll treat you to a slap-up full English. Black Pudding, fried bread, big dollop of bubble. The works.'

'You're on!'

'Mind you, that rubbish might have made me hungry but it's also made me bloody thirsty. One for the road in the Arms, eh?'

'Thought you wanted to get cracking, get this sorted once and for all?'

'I do, Sam, I do. But I first of all I need something to take away the taste of that double malt Scotch whiskey before I do anything else...'

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The doors of the Railways Arms snapped shut behind them like the jaws of an amiable dog.

'Mr Hunt! Sam! Good to see you!'

Nelson smiled broadly and gestured widely at the bar.

'What'll it be?'

The two detectives eased themselves onto two of the high barstools, ready to let all the cares of the day drop away from them.

'I need a Scotch, Nelson. A proper Scotch. Single malt whisky without an 'E'. Something dark and peaty, preferably from Islay. And put it on the tab.'

Nelson's smile faded and he shook his head.

'Sorry Mr Hunt. No can do. Gotta be cash, man.'

'Cash? What you on about, Nelson?'

The landlord retrieved a large sheet of paper covered with a careful, close script.

'Your tab, Mr Hunt. It's full. Can't have anything more on it 'til you pay up. In full.'

The fury on Gene's face would have made many a hardened criminal quake in his boots, but Nelson stood his ground.

'In full, Mr Hunt.'

Nelson turned the page so that Gene could read it, but didn't let him snatch it out of his firm grip.

'Payday ain't until Friday. You’ll get it then. In full.'

'Friday's no good. No cash today, no drinks today. That's the way it is, man.'

Sam slid his hand into his inside jacket pocket and retrieved his wallet.

'S'okay, let me pay, Guv.'

But Nelson was having none of it.

'No no, mon brave. This is Mr Hunt's tab, Mr Hunt's debt. Though come to think of it...

'Come to think of what, Nelson?'

The landlord grinned meaningfully at first one man and then the other.

'Maybe we could come to some sort of agreement...'

'What sort of agreement you talking about?' Gene enquired cautiously. 'Anything to get me my booze, mind you.'

Sam was looking worried to say the least.

'I've got a bad feeling about this,' he muttered.

'No no, mon brave. Nothing to fret about, man. Just that... Well I'm a-willing to wipe the slate clean you know, if Mr Hunt here would be a-willing to share a little of the Sammy goodness with an old friend, if you know what I mean...'

Sam leapt down from his stool in an instant.

'Oh no! Oh no no no! No way am I selling my arse to keep Gene in beer!'

But the Guv had caught him in a vice-like grip before he'd taken two steps towards the door.

'It's good Scotch whisky I'm after, Tyler, not beer. And we all know you're a filthy little slut who'll give it up for anyone and anything.'

He twisted Sam's arm behind his back and whumped him hard in the kidneys.

'Now get behind that bar and show Nelson just how well you can clean his pump for him.'

Nelson's grin was wider than either of them had ever seen it before.

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'Out this way! Quick! Whilst he's still getting his breath back!'

'I'm sorry Sam, truly I am...'

'I know, you'd never really rent me out to Nelson.'

'Oh yes I would. I meant that I'm sorry you only went for one bottle of Scotch. You're worth two at least.'


'Anyway you should be happy for Nelson, he hardly ever gets any action.'

'And he won't be getting any more from me, never again. Now, where's the car? We need to get going if we're ever going to sort out this mess. You lead, I'll follow. I can't take any more of this treatment. I'm going to take down whatever bastard mastermind is behind all this if it's the last thing I do! Guv? Gene? What....?'

'Sorry Sam. You shouldn't have gone out of the back door...'


'Can't help it. Got to do it here. Now. Always happens. Get your kecks down and be quick about it. We're in the seedy back alley...'

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All the air in Sam's lungs exploded out of him as Gene slammed him against the rough brickwork and he fought to regain his breath.

'Take it Tyler. Take it and like it, little slut that you are.'
'No I bloody well am not.'

Hobbled by his own jeans around his ankles, Sam spread his legs as wide as he could, desperate for the Guv's thick cock to fill him.
'See? Told you. Nobody ever spares a thought for my poor over-worked ding-a-ling.'

'You want it don't you? Hard and fast and dirty. That's how Slutty Sammy Tyler likes to be taken, isn't it?'
'No it is not. I'm totally fed up with sex. Think I'm going to join a monastery after all this is over and done with.'

Sam's hole opened up willingly as the throbbing mushroom head of the Guv's mighty manhood butted insistently against him.

'Well, well... Nicely loosened up and lubed. I'm not the first you've had tonight, am I? Filthy little slut.'
'Bloody hell! Sloppy seconds! I'm getting Nelson's sloppy seconds...'

'Want it... Need it... Give it to me, Guv...'
'I think I'm going to be sick if this carries on for much longer.'

Sam writhed and contorted as he came, his come filling Gene's hand as clever fingers brought Sam crashing over the edge of ecstasy.
'Clever fingers. Sounds a bit like Dicky Fingers to me.'

Gene wrenched him around and forced him to his knees.

'Suck it, Tyler,' he growled as he grabbed Sam by the back of his head and pulled him forwards hard.

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'Sorry. I did say I thought I was going to be sick.'

'Could have watched out for my loafers.'

'I'll buy you some new ones. Proper shoes, if you like.'

'Don't like. Now come on. The Cortina's at the end of the alley. This time nothing's going to stop us. We're going to get that bastard and put an end to his evil machinations.'

'Machinations? Where'd you get that one from, Guv?'

'I'm not just a pretty face, Sammy boy. Got brains too. Now. Into the car and it's pedal to the metal!'

'Gene! Look! Kids in the road!'

'What you doing Sam? Get your hands off the wheel!'

'Let me! Let me!'

'Sam! Stop it! Dammit Tyler!'


'We hit her! We hit the little girl, Sam...'

'Good. Been wanting to do that for ages.'

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The Cortina careered through the back streets of Manchester, over cobbles and tarmac, following a twisting turning route that soon left Sam dizzy and disorientated. But Gene appeared to know exactly where he was going. At last they ground to a halt at what Sam soon realised was an all-too-familiar corner.

'What we doing here?'

'What d'you think? Where else could it be but here?'

Sam still couldn't quite believe where he was. But the dull bass thump and flashing neon sign above the door didn't lie.

'But we put him away.'

'In 1.04, yes. But that was canon. We're deep into fanon here. Anything can happen and probably will, if it hasn't already.'


'Yep. There'll be tons of it, I imagine. You ready?'

Sam patted his pair of trusty revolvers and nodded firmly.

'Ready as I'll ever be.'

They pushed open the double doors in perfect unison, shouldering their way through the crowds and up the staircase to the room where they knew their nemesis awaited. The heavy at the door stepped into their path and glared menacingly.

'Invitation only,' he growled.

Gene produced both his guns and cocked them smoothly.

'I think you'll find these are all the invitation we need.'

The heavy recoiled, his nod now nervous as he moved out of their way.

'Good boy,' Gene smarmed, and barged through the door.

The light was dim, only a spotlight on the desk and the faint glimmer of thin metal bars lining the room. There was a strange smell, and an unsettling occasional scratching noise.

The figure behind the desk looked up and smiled.

'Ah, DCI Hunt, DI Tyler. I've been expecting you.'

Gene aimed a steady revolver at the still-smiling face and scowled as only he could do.

'I've no doubt you have. After all, you've been pulling the strings of our every move for far too long now, haven't you? Well not for much longer!'

'Don't tell me you haven't enjoyed at least some of it, DCI Hunt, DI Tyler? You certainly seemed to be gaining a large degree of satisfaction from, shall we say, some of your more lurid entanglements together...'

Sam took his own aim at the man who had caused so much pain and trauma to his poor abused arse.

'We took you down once and we'll do it again. This time it'll be for good!'

'I don't think so. I don't think I can allow that to happen. You see, watching you two is so very satisfying for a - what was it you described me as, DCI Hunt? Ah yes. A bum bandit, a poof, fairy, a queer, a queen, fudge packer, uphill gardener, fruit picking sodomite.'

'I meant that you're gay!' Gene grumbled.

'Well so I am. And so are you. Both of you!'

'No we're not!' Sam and Gene chorused.

'You are now. Fanon wins over canon every time. Now will you gentlemen kindly stop waving those guns around in my office or I’ll...'

'Or you’ll what, Warren?'

Gene raised his second revolver, Sam mirroring the action.

'Oh isn't that sweet! Synchronised in every move they make. And to answer your question, or I'll have to take some rather unfortunate action. Tufty! CamberwickSam!'

Both detectives spun around in an instant to face the lumbering approach of Warren's henchmen. They let loose all four guns, emptying their bullets with deadly accuracy. Within seconds the revolvers were empty but to no avail. Tufty was leaking kapok but still he loomed towards them. CamberwickSam paused for a moment to pat his Plasticine back into place, shook his head mournfully, then continued in his set task. Caught off their guard, Sam and Gene faltered, and in that brief but crucial moment Tufty and CamberwickSam were upon them.

'It's not supposed to end like this!' Gene yelled. 'We're supposed to take you down, gain our freedom, never have to shag ourselves stupid ever again!'

'Oh dear!' Warren frowned, 'Haven't you noticed? We're not in straight dialogue any more. This is dialogue interspersed with description. Regular font, not italics. And anyway, you've used up all your bullets. How were you going to dispose of my little darlings now? Strangle them all? I don't think DI Tyler's soft heart could have borne that, do you?'

Sam lurched forwards in his captor's firm grip.

'I'll get you Warren. Believe me, one day, I'll.... Aaaggghhh!'

CamberwickSam looked even sadder than ever, but he'd had to put the boot in hard to shut Tyler up.

'Now look what you've done!' roared Gene. 'You've broken Sammy's legs. And you've made him cry!'

Warren grinned and signalled for his prisoners to be taken away.

'Find them some cages where I can enjoy watching their antics. So much more fun to have them under lock and key on my own premises for a while. And I never even had to go out and get them. Made their way to me under their own volition. And now...'

A switch on the panel sitting upon Warren's desk was flipped and light suddenly flooded the room, illuminating the hundreds of small cages lining it.

'My beauties, my darlings...' he cooed, 'Daddy would never let the nasty detectives hurt you. You're all too precious. Now they're safely put away in their own cage and you can go free! Free into the world to breed the true love of Sam and Gene!'

The flip of another switch and all the cage doors opened, their hundreds of furry inhabitants leaping out, swarming across the room, and disappearing out of the door.

'Release the plot bunnies!'

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WARREN breaks the fourth wall and stares directly at the viewer. He erupts into an evil maniacal laugh.

Close up on his face then fade to black.

Roll credits.

Evil laughter continues.

Tags: meta challenge
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