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There was an annual charity event organised on behalf of the Lancashire Constabulary; each division had to submit at least one act, consisting of a performance by their own team-members. The money from the ticket sales to the performance always went to the charity chosen by the winner – whichever copper was deemed to have performed best.
Gene had always left Litton’s team or Plonk to represent his section of Manchester, and merely added to the charity pot by holding a charity football tournament between the RCS and CID divisions within the Constabulary. But when he found out that Sam could play the piano, he found the chance too difficult to pass up.
And so, with less than a weeks notice, and no possibility of being able to back out, Sam was forced into standing on a stage, in a new black suit that he had coerced Gene into purchasing, sure he was about to undergo the mother of all forms of public humiliation.
Before sitting at the piano, Sam first took up the microphone and addressed the audience.
“I feel a need to explain myself prior to this performance. I was not informed that I was to be party to these proceedings until a few days ago, and, with no chance of backing out, and so little notice, I have had no choice but to perform one of the admittedly few pieces that I actually know in its entirety. So, if you disapprove of the song choice, blame the Guv!”
Sam couldn’t help but chuckle as the spotlight momentarily left him to find Gene, who actually had the gall to stand and bow!
Sam took his place at the piano, glad that if he had to play in public, it was on such a beautiful instrument. Taking a deep breath and cracking his knuckles, he started to play. Not even having the comfort of sheet music before him, he placed his focus on his hands flowing over the keys, allowing the familiar music to transport him…
As long as he needs me...
Oh, yes, he does need me...
In spite of what you see...
...I'm sure that he needs me.
Who else would love him still
When they've been used so ill?
He knows I always will...
As long as he needs me.
Sam could not look at the audience, knowing that they would be bewildered by his song choice. But at the same time, he kind of felt like a weight was being lifted; this was giving him a chance to expel the feelings he had had to keep bottled up since he first realised how he felt about Gene Hunt, without actually having to say anything. He was also glad of the voice lessons he had taken back in the early Noughties as part of a public speaking course; he knew that his singing voice was not that bad and the lessons made him confident that he would be able to reach and hold the bigger notes.
I miss him so much when he is gone,
But when he's near me
I don't let on...
Taking a dramatic pause there, in both his playing and his singing, he then allowed all of his emotion to power through the song, leaving the audience to hear it clearly in his voice, and in the force with which he hit each key.
...The way I feel inside.
The love, I have to hide...
The hell! I've got my pride!
As long as he needs me.
The next part of the song was spoken, and applied so perfectly to his relationship with his DCI, that he could not stop his eyes from drifting over to where the elder man was seated, although he could not make out the expression on Gene’s face.
He doesn't say the things he should.
He acts the way he thinks he should.
But all the same,
I'll play
This game
His way.
He reveled in the shock he could see on the faces of the other CID members as he belted out and held on to that last note in perfect pitch.
As long as he needs me...
I know where I must be.
I'll cling on steadfastly...
As long as he needs me.
As long as life is long...
I'll love him right or wrong,
And somehow, I'll be strong...
As long as he needs me.
Allowing the power he had placed behind his playing to lessen, he knew that he was revealing how much he really meant these next words.
If you are lonely
Then you will know...
When someone needs you,
You love them so.
Swallowing a lump in his throat, Sam could not stop a lone tear as he sang this next part, lost in memories of Morgan, and his almost betrayal.
I won't betray his trust...
Though people say I must.
Taking a noticeable deep breath, allowing his determination to keep this promise to show clearly on his face and in his voice, Sam belted out this last line with all the passion, emotion and power he had left in his body.
I've got to stay true, just
As long as he needs me.
As his fingers lifted from the keys, allowing those last few notes to fade away, Sam closed his eyes for a moment and allowed his shoulders to droop, before straightening up, standing, and taking a modest bow.
When he finally took in the audience, it was to realise that, after a moment of complete silence, he had received a loud and sincere standing ovation! He could see Annie in the front row, crying as she clapped as hard as she could, and Chris whistling in admiration. Grinning at the disgruntled look on Ray’s face (probably annoyed that he couldn’t take the piss out of how bad he was), Sam next turned his gaze to the Guv’s seat – which was empty. Only his camel-hair coat left any sign that he had even been sat there.
Any elation Sam had managed to obtain from that performance left him in an instant as panic set in, and he quickly made his way off the stage. Undoing his tie as he went, Sam headed straight to the only men’s bathroom backstage, which was thankfully empty. Splashing some water on his face, he took some deep breaths in an attempt to calm down. This did not work, so, keeping his head down, he walked to the corner room where he had left his things and started to pace – quite a feat in itself, as he could not take more than five steps before having to turn around!
“OK, so, you’ve just made a complete fool of yourself, singing a song from a musical that is meant to be sung by a woman. Anyone who didn’t think you were a poof already, sure as hell does now! And the man, that arse who dropped you in it, he just buggered off! And why?! Because he knows! I doubt I could have been more obvious if I’d tattooed ‘Property of Gene Hunt’ on my arse! Although, there’s a lot less chance of the entire Constabulary seeing my arse, so no, that wouldn’t have been as obvious as singing a love song to my DCI!”
Stopping mid-stride, Sam ran both hands through his hair and clutched at the short brown locks as he chastised himself; “What the fuck was I thinking in agreeing to do this?!”
“I didn’t really give you much of an option Sammy-boy.”
Spinning round to face the door, Sam paled at the sight of Gene Hunt leaning on the doorframe, hands behind his back.
“Ge-Gu…how long where you standing there?”
“Long enough.”
If possible, Sam paled even further, and stumbled back into the nearest chair as he started to stammer, “Ge-gu-guv, I’m…I’m so-”
Gene cut him off as he walked towards him. “I came back to give you this.”
Pulling his hand from behind his back, Gene threw a red rose onto Sam’s lap.
Sam looked at it for a moment, and blinked. When it did not disappear, he picked it up, and a smile of pure delight graced his face. Swallowing, Sam whispered a choked thanks.
His smile faded quickly, as he realised how clearly he was continuing to show his emotions. Sure that this was no-more than a set-up to further humiliation he closed his eyes, unable to cope with the disgust he was sure he would find on his Guv’s face.
However, Gene had worked with Sam long enough to find him pretty easy to read, and now he knew Sam’s biggest secret, well, he might as well be a picture book.
“Oi, Gladys! I just did a proper sappy, nancy-boy thing for you! Shoulda managed a better smile than two seconds! Although personally, I have to say, I think you’d look damn good with that tattoo on your arse….”
When Sam registered what Gene had just said, he slowly worked up the courage to open his eyes, unable to conceal the hope within their depths. As their eyes finally met, Gene just nodded at the younger man.
“Didn’t you ever notice that you’re than only man I let get so close? The one I touch the most. You’re meant to be the clever one Dorothy, use your noggin’!”
Looking down at the red rose once again, a smile reappeared on Sam’s face as he finally allowed himself to accept its meaning. Placing it carefully on the table beside him, Sam stood, allowing his gaze to make its way up Gene’s body to meet his eyes.
Seeing the lust in the younger man’s gaze, Gene finally allowed himself to act upon it. In a familiar move, Gene grabbed Sam by the lapels and flung him into the nearest wall, before sidling right up into his personal space, and, with a new addition to their usual routine, tugged on Sam’s hair as their lips finally met.
Sam’s hands wrapped around his neck as their tongues entwined, fingers quickly becoming immersed in soft blond hair. Scraping his stubbly cheek against the baby-soft smoothness of the smaller man, Gene allowed his hands to wander down to the arse he had wanted to grab for so long. With the weight of two large hands on his arse, Sam hoisted himself so both of his legs were wrapped around Gene’s waist, causing their groins to press together.
Both men groaned, Gene seeming to push Sam further into the wall as they started to grind into each other.
They were both panting for breath, rock hard and desperate for release when the noise from outside finally registered, and Gene reluctantly pulled back.
The look of fear on Sam’s face as he lowered Sam back onto solid ground caused Gene to wince inwardly, and he wrapped his arms around him.
“No Sam, no regrets. I just remembered where we were.”
Sam sighed with relief, before jolting as the thought registered with him also. Stepping back, he started to straighten his clothes as he tried to think of ‘calming’ thoughts.
“Phyllis in a negligee, Phyllis in a negligee, Phyllis in a negligee…”
“Sorry Guv, did I hear you right?”
Gene opened his eyes to look at the shorter man before him, regretting it immediately as his nether regions perked up again.
“Yeah y’did. Lil trick I use when trying to keep my John Thomas under control. Doesn’t work so well when you’re standin’ in front of me like that!”
Smiling broadly at that remark, Sam apologised nonetheless, “Sorry Guv.”
Gene rolled his eyes. “No you’re not. And less of the Guv, luv. You’re mine now Sammy-boy, and that means you have the honour of calling me Gene.”
Allowing his smile to relax into more of a sappy grin, Sam whispered huskily, “Yes Gene.”
Feeling himself twitch again at the sound of his name spoken in such a way, Gene glared down at his groin before turning his glare on Sam.
“Right Tyler, out! You go the bathroom and put your tie back on, I’ll meet you at the stage door in a minute.”
A once again perfectly presentable Sam Tyler met his presentable, if rumpled DCI at the appointed spot, and they sneaked a quick kiss (‘for luck’ according to Gene) before Sam went to join the other performers on stage left, and Gene returned to his seat.
“Right, Ladies and Gentlemen, it has been quite an…interesting evening tonight, as I am sure you’ll agree. I trust that everyone enjoyed themselves?”
Allowing a few moments for applause to show agreement with his question, the Compare continued. “Now every year, this event raises money for charitable causes within the community, but none of this would be possible without the help of our brave and wonderful performers, so lets give them all a round of applause!”
Before stepping back onto the stage with his fellow performers, Sam pulled the rose from his pocket and pinned it to his lapel, before placing himself at the end of the line and once again lowering his head in a small and modest bow. As they stepped back to allow the Compare to continue, Sam found Gene in the audience and ran a finger over the rose, having to force himself not to grin at what he was sure was Gene Hunt actually blushing!
Sam managed to tune back in just in time “…what I am sure you will all agree was one of the best performances this Event has seen in years. With a unique song choice, coupled with passion and tremendous talent – both instrumental and vocal, the award must go to one of Greater Manchester’s newer recruits. On behalf of Greater Manchester’s ‘A’ Division, CID, the award goes to Sam Tyler!”
Now it was Sam himself who was blushing, as the other performers stepped back to allow him to walk forward. Although the blush failed to fade, it was joined by a broad grin at the sound of a loud and piercing whistle from his DCI, followed by a whoops and cheers, ending in the entire CID team chanting ‘Tyler! Tyler! Tyler!’
Sam accepted the award gracefully, and stated that, in light of the song that garnered him the opportunity, he would like the money to go towards the local Woman’s Refuge, assisting with victims of domestic violence.
As the night drew to a close, Sam walked to the Cortina; one of Gene’s arms wrapped around his shoulders, and felt a spring in his step and a lightness in his heart.
Sam knew that he could have walked away from this with a broken heart – if not broken bones, and instead, was happier than he ever dreamed he could be.
As the car manoeuvred its way through the Manchester night towards Sam’s place, and a large hand made its way up Sam’s thigh on the pretence of ‘missing the gear stick’, Sam knew that he would have been perfectly happy if he had not won the award, because he had already won the ultimate prize, the moment Gene leaned in his doorway.
END