DCI Gene Hunt (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
the_gene_genie) wrote2011-08-31 11:40 pm
the_gene_genie) wrote2011-08-31 11:40 pm
Entry tags:
OOM: Kate, post-row
He doesn't drag his feet on the way down to the stables, though he's still not sure this is a good idea. But, fact is, much as he's tried to ignore the last row, it won't go away. He's told himself he doesn't care until he's blue in the face, but he's called himself a liar too. And yeah, he was really angry and he's still pissed off when he thinks about it. But he's not as pissed off as he was, and there's a lot he doesn't understand.
Gene doesn't like not understanding things. And he has no intention of hiding away from her either. When he has a problem, he either buries it until it goes away (doesn't seem to be working), or he faces it head on. Seeing as the first option seems to be a non-starter, the second it is.
So there's no trepidation as he walks into the building. None of his usual striding arrogance either though.
'You in here?'
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"Yeah."
He can be rather damn persuasive. But she knows she needs time to think, and that the sting from her wounds will take a little longer to fade.
"I mean it, Gene. Don't do that 'gain. Jus' ... not like that," she murmurs. "Maybe y'think my not sayin' everythin' is what gets us into trouble, but the last time I tried bein' frank with you I ended up getting chewed t'pieces. If I'm s'posed t'be more open with you, you gotta rein in your temper."
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'Kid gloves?'
Right. He can...try.
He doesn't like the chances though, to be perfectly frank.
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"No."
She's firm about that. She's been treated like a porcelain doll before, and she really doesn't like it — or need it. Besides, she's not asking him to change who he is; she happens to like him just fine. So, she thinks deeply on how to reword that.
"I'm not gonna bring things up that I think'll make y'angry. An' there's been precious few things I've said that don't send you off into a hissy fit. Either I'm talkin' too bloody much, or I'm not talkin' enough; either way, I can't win with you. Y'just need t'make up your mind which it is."
She plucks the cigarette from his mouth so she doesn't have to talk through a cloud of his smoke. He'll get it back later.
"When you walk away, that's you walkin' away, not me. So y'can come in here askin' why I've got a bug up my ass, throwin' around how I'm keepin' you at a distance, but I'm tired of watchin' someone's backside as they leave me. I ain't gonna do it no more. An' it don't inspire me t'trust you."
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He thinks it's a bit rich asking him not to get pissed off, when she keeps messing him about. Is it any wonder he walks away?
'First you don' fancy me. Then you do, but I can' touch you. Then you're all over me, an' smack me 'round the chops when I hold off. It's not jus' me that needs t'make me mind up. An' not just you that can' win, either.'
He doesn't say it angrily. Just presenting the evidence.
'So if we both jus' wind our necks in, it'll be alright.'
He's pretty sure he doesn't need to wind his neck in. Also, if both of them try it, they're pretty much both going against the grain of their respective personalities. So he hasn't much hope of an easy-going time, but hell, you only live once.
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She never meant to infer that he was the only one making things difficult. She's more than willing to own up to her issues — at least, to some of them — and try to overcome them. Things, plain and simple, went bad all around the last time they saw each other.
"I'm jus' lettin' you know in advance. That is what you're wantin', isn't it?"
Kate doesn't make empty threats. There might be times when she's so angry that she calls down Hellfire and pestilence and can't follow through, but in this instance she's being absolutely serious. She won't suffer a flighty man, or a double-standard. If it's her reticence that's getting them in trouble, then she'll make sure that's inescapably clear.
She ashes his cigarette for him, and lifts it back to his lips.
"As for not makin' you feel wanted? I guess that's jus' something I'll hafta work on, isn't it?"
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'You can work on that all you like, luv.'
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"Thought y'might feel that way."
She gently kisses his temple.
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He turns his head and catches her lips gently. Just briefly. Just because she doesn't seem to mind, and because he wants to.
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"Anythin' else you wanted?"
She's halfway teasing, her voice barely more than a whisper.
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'Yeah.'
One more kiss. Why not?
'But you're not finished bein' angry at me.'
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"This is where my bein' a tease when I want to comes in."
Finally, she relaxes enough for some of her usual mischief to sneak into her eyes.
"You goin' away for a while again, or were you gonna stick around?"
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It doesn't look like he minds so much. He straightens up, smiling lightly, and gives his fag the attention it deserves.
'I'll be around.'
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"I'll expect t'see you 'round here more often, then."
She smooths the polyester into place, and then absently fixes his suit jacket.
"If y'mean to keep ridin'."
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'Ridin's something I mean to keep doin', yeah,' he settles on, with a face so straight there's no way he can be answering the comment she actually made.
'Espcially if you're plannin' on bein' around for it.'
No one ever accused his sense of humour of being mature.
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Her eyes flick up, fixing him with a look that could melt fortified steel.
"What am I gonna do with you?"
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'I can think of a thing or two.'
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Not to mention ride a few more times without falling on his tail. Even if it's amusing as all hell to watch.
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'Wha's wrong with Duncan?'
He's got used to not falling off Duncan. He likes Duncan. Insofar as Gene Hunt will ever get friendly with a horse, anyway.
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She's actually not sure if she could or not, but with the uncertainty of her world she wouldn't dare bring someone else's mount out.
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'Oh.'
Beat.
'Who's he belong to, then?'
Better not be someone he hates. He'll be well pissed off.
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"Doc covers his expenses."
She suddenly spies her hat by his feet, and bends to fetch it.
"Whomever brought him in has left, an' given him t'the bar for public use. Him an' Rachat both."
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Awkward. For her, at any rate. He's not sure if he's supposed to be bothered or not.
'Well, if they've left, an' he's a donation, then why can't I ride him?'
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'Well. Whatever. Fine.'
Annnd it seems like he's annoying her again. Seeing as it wouldn't do to spoil the even patch of ground they've discovered, he figures now would be a good time to take himself off.
Plus, he really wants a drink.
'Anyway. It's beer o'clock. You stayin' out here, or comin' in?'
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"I'm gonna haul that out first," she says, nodding toward the bag of feed. "Clean up a bit. But I'll be seein' you again."
Her voice rises on that last syllable, just enough to make it unclear whether or not she meant for it to be a question.
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