Title: I Know What I Know, Why Don't you Fill in the Rest?
Rating: Green Cortina
Word count: 920
Notes: First time posting to this comm so I hope this fits the challenge. The idea was Gene paints a certain picture of Sam only to realize he's mistaken. Title from Audioslave's Revelations (it seemed to fit!).
I Know What I Know, Why Don’t You Fill in the Rest?
You have to know your team better than you know yourself. That was rule number one, the first lesson you learned from Morrison when he bought you a pint and said welcome to the force and it’s stuck with you all this time. Like your sideburns as you rose through the ranks, it was advice that would never go out of style. A few more rules have been added since then (everyone calls you guv and no one touches your whiskey; no exceptions) even repealed others (so maybe a 3 drink minimum before noon wasn’t the greatest idea, it’s not your fault those girls haven’t conditioned themselves yet) but that first lesson has always been your golden rule.
It was rocky at first, when a handful of lost and mildly drunk detectives finally became your team, but you won them over until they learned they were safe with you. They trusted you while you learned to trust them.
Ray was always your right hand man from the beginning. He wanted to fight alongside his guv because the thirst for blood in battle ran through both of your veins’. You go to him when there’s dirty work, and in a few dicey situations it might have saved you both. That’s why the rule is so important, it’s practically gospel.
Chris was a bother when he finally made detective, wet behind the ears and too nervous for your tastes but he did better than you had expected and sometimes just as you’d expected. After the first week you discovered Chris liked to dance, at least that’s what you assumed it was when he started wiggling to The Sweet after a night at the Arms. You were too drunk to remember you joined in, even if everyone insists you did.
You know that Vince would wear a 3 piece suit to bed and Geoff must be his personal secretary because the two are always muttering on about something over paperwork and cups of coffee.
After teasing Clive about his height he beat your arse in darts, so when he’s being particularly slack you remind him they don’t serve shrimps at the pub.
You never warmed up to Phyllis, that hard old bird, but you’ve always trusted her with more then you’d give most of your detectives. Annie, the luv, was always bright and maybe if times were different she’d shine.
This was your system and it worked. So of course it would all play out the same way when he first came in on his Hyde high horse. Sam Tyler was a mystery to everyone else but you because you knew the type. It took you three seconds to figure out he was an uptight stubborn prick, one minute to dismiss his madness, and a full day to determine he lived and breathed the job just like you did. He had a place here; you just had to break him in.
He was a picky pain from the start but you were prepared for that. You tried to take him under your wing, teach him what he needed to know but that stubbornness you saw kept it from doing the idiot any good. So you did something you rarely ever do, you compromised. You still don’t like it when he prattles on like Encyclopedia Britannica is stuffed in his head but you know it’s worth it because he has to trust you, its part of your golden rule.
Sometimes he’s right, but that only ever proves how right you were to begin with. You learned he talks more than any human being needs to but it’s only because he was lonely; then again so were you. You learned you fancied him and you haven’t been scared that shitless since those first months in National Service.
You knew there were men that had admired him before and you hated their guts. You knew that he had flashed his eyes for them and pouted his lips and that moment would never be yours. He would never look at you full of spite and want all rolled into one. He would never lower that wall of defense he kept up high for the rest of the world. He would never let you hold him tight or taste his lips or fall hopelessly into those dark secret eyes.
But you were wrong. You hate admitting it because you’re certain it’s a rare occasion but you were wrong and you’ve never been happier because he’s here with you now.
Once you were so certain that you knew everything about him but he was a better poker player then you gave him credit for. You mistook his skepticism for irritation, dismissed his silence as stubbornness. When it comes to Sam Tyler you're a PC again, inexperienced and petrified you're going to mess it all up. This time he teaches you. The way he desperately fumbles at your clothes teaches you he’s wanted this as long as you have. The way he kisses you awkwardly betrays his nervousness and when you have him stretched out before you he teaches you that you’re his first.
The ache of your judgment is only soothed by the joy of this knowledge. You were so wrong about him all this time so you dedicate your life to correcting that mistake. You want to know Sam Tyler better than you know yourself and for once it has nothing to do with police work.