Bottle of Red
A/N: Episode tag for A2A Ep1: Deja Vu. They never found Sam's body. He's probably still lurking around, somewhere.
"She did good, for her first day."
Gene Hunt hummed under his breath, turning his glass in his hand. The light glanced off the red wine surface, painting his fingers with colour.
"Better then I would've expected, but DI Drake is adaptable."
"DI Drake won't adapt," Gene muttered. "Whatever her fantasy is, it's too strong to keep her here. She'll go mad fast. Not like...at least the Sam I knew could work past his little moments. He was right mad but he had sense too. I ain't dealing with this plonk."
"The great Gene-Genie, giving up so soon?" A soft laugh, a light smirk barely noticable. "It takes a little time, she's still in culture shock." A nudge to his arm, feather-light. "Come on Guv, give her a chance."
"She's not you, Sam," Gene glanced up, but did not look to his left. "She can never be you."
Sam gave a sad half-smile, and cocked his head, the candlelight flickering across his features. "You can't shut the world out forever, Guv." He gestured to the room. "You found this place and made this corner your own. You don't join the rest of them, most nights. It's always this table, two chairs, two glasses, a bottle of red that only you drink."
Two pairs of eyes looked up as Alex Drake entered the bar and took a weary seat on an empty stool.
Sam nudged again, tilting his head towards the object of conversation. "Don't wait for me forever, Gene."
Gene looked towards his DI, and found an empty chair, an empty glass, the bottle of red sitting between the napkins.
"Bloody ponce," he muttered, and grabbed the wine, rising from his chair. "I'll wait as long as I have to."