BBC Life on Mars: A Ford Love Nest
Set in 2015
Dean Milton Carling is Ray's son as they are very similar looking and is a play on the actor Dean Andrews's name.
Sam came storming into the room with his gun raised and pointed at Murphy's head. Gene took a deep breath and punched Murphy as he spun around to look at the source of the noise. Sam shouted something, telling Murphy to get onto the ground, his fingers flexing on the handle of the six shooter in his grip.
"What took you?" Gene yelled, moving to stand near Sam, his chest heaving.
"Turned down the wrong street. What's the matter, Guv? You're looking a little worse for wear. You weren't scared, were you?"
Gene's eyes flitted from the gun in Sam's hand to Sam's smirk and returned to Murphy lying on the ground.
"How's it feel now, scum?" Gene stepped forward and made Murphy kneel down twice, his foot impacting hard as he fitted handcuffs on the suspect.
Chris and Dean ran into the room, Chris stumbling across the threshold.
Gene didn't so much as look at them. "Dean, cuff the bastard and haul him away for..." He stopped, bringing his hand to his head.
Sam stepped in. "For the acquisition of illegal firearms."
Dean nodded and dragged Murphy to his feet. Chris read him his rights.
"We'll take him down station, if you wanna go home, Guv? It's been a long day."
Sam nodded for Gene, raising his hand in gratitude. "Thanks Chris."
Gene took another audible breath before turning toward the door. He stepped outside with less command than usual. His eyes glinted as he watched Dean and Chris drive away with Murphy in the back. He turned to Sam and stilled, gazing at the reflection of the moon on a bronze body.
"You drove my Granada?" Gene thundered.
Sam shrugged. "Had to get here somehow, didn't I?"
"I only left the keys in the office because I was in a rush. It was not an invitation. This is just brilliant. Not only did I have my life on the line, but my prized possession too."
Sam's tone softened. "You weren't scared, were you?"
Gene dragged his arms across his chest, shielding himself from the cold. The shirt he was wearing was little protection against the chill of the Manchester night.
"I was waiting for my execution. What do you think, Sam?"
"But you knew I was coming."
"That means nowt when you've the barrel of a gun fixed on you," Gene said, taking a cigarette from his pocket and lighting it.
Sam paused, staring at Gene in concentration. "So what? You couldn't have died anyway."
"As much as this might surprise you, Sammy-boy, I'm not actually invincible."
Sam blinked, the set of his jaw hardening. "You are. You can't die. I won't allow it."
The cigarette between Gene's fingers trembled. "You do realise the world doesn't revolve around your every whim?"
"It does." Sam said, pushing close into Gene's side. "And there's no way in hell I'd let it get away with taking you from me."
Gene flicked his cigarette to the side. "Oh, you're up for that again, are you?"
Sam's lips curved into a smile. "Always."
"What is it, the thrill of firearms?"
"And other things."
"Yeah, well, maybe some of us aren't in the mood?"
Sam gently shoved Gene's shoulder, his hand warm and heavy against the fabric of Gene's shirt. "Some of us never stop being in the mood."
Sam's smile widened into a grin as Gene grabbed hold of his jacket and slammed him against the passenger door of the Granada MkIII. Gene stopped, gazing at Sam, cataloguing every feature. He pulled Sam's head forward and fiercely pressed their lips together. His hand roamed from Sam's neck to his back, his fingers skimming the waistband of Sam's trousers. Sam rocked into him, dragging his hand down from Gene's chest to smooth over the fabric stretched over his crotch.
"You might be right there," Gene said, drawing back, eyes wide.
"I'm always right."
"Just like you control the universe."
Gene dug his hand into Sam's pocket and took out his car keys. He moved away from Sam, walking around the bonnet of the Granada and opening the door.
"You're armed with such gifts and yet you choose to spend your evenings with your lips wrapped around my cock."
There was a soft thump as Gene collapsed into the driver's seat.
"Well, apparently the one thing I can't control is who to lust after. Believe me, I've tried," Sam replied, climbing into the car.
Gene started the engine. "Just as well I'm so accommodating then, really, isn't it?"
Sam bit his lower lip and dipped his head forward. "I think you'll find I can be accommodating too."
Gene's knuckles were white as he gripped the steering wheel. "You might have to be."