Consequences
by Clonesgirl
Little does she know it but Annie's life is about to be turned upside-down...
The technical stuff:
RATING: PG Green Cortina
PAIRING: Sam/Gene pre-slash
WORD COUNT: 2,150
WARNINGS: 1973 sexist male attitudes
ARCHIVE: The Motley Collection
DISCLAIMER: Characters borrowed from BBC and Kudos strictly for fun not profit. No offence intended.
BETA: No beta so if you spot any goofs please let me know.
FEEDBACK: Would be lovely, not to mention encourage me to scribble some more fic.
NOTE: If you wish to link to this story it would be much appreciated if you could let the author know.
A/N: Thanks to scripps for her drabble It's a Woman's World posted to the Friday Drabble Challenge
25 September 2009 which got me to thinking about Annie's promotion and its possible
ramifications. Dialogue-based fic.
* * *
"Can't have it, Sam. It's gotta stop." Gene Hunt leaned back in his chair, arms folded over his chest.
"Can't have what?" Sam sat down in front of him.
"Gossip. Resentment in the ranks. Bad for morale. Even the Super's noticed."
"The Super? You'll have to enlighten me, Guv. Which particular piece of CID gossip are you referring to? Ray's girl tying him up in knots with her origami? Chris spilling a chocolate milkshake all over a date? Vince choking on a donut? Or maybe it was Jim's wife kicking him out on account of she caught him in flagrante delicto and at the worst possible moment? Anything I've missed?"
"Yeah, the one about Cartwright. And don't start spoutin' French."
"It's not French, it's Medieval Latin."
"Whatever."
"Anyway what about Annie? She's doing a good job."
"I'm not saying she's incompetent, Sam. I'm saying there's gossip, and that's not a good thing."
"What sort of gossip?"
"You mean to say you don't know?"
"No, I don't know, Guv. So enlighten me."
"Haven't a clue, have you. Gossip about her promotion and how she got it spreadin' her legs for you."
"What! That's not true and you know it!"
"I know nothing of the kind. Everyone knows how she got her promotion and you can deny it all you want, Sam. No one will believe you - either of you," he added.
"Guv, we haven't... She... won't."
"What, the old Tyler charm not working?"
"Guv, she's a valuable member of the team. She works hard and you know she's been responsible for several collars now. In fact, we couldn't have succeeded without her. A woman detective is a real asset to the team."
"I'm not denying that, Sam, but that's the way it is."
"What do you mean 'that's the way it is'? You don't mean you're kicking her off the team."
"Got no choice, have I. You know in our line of work we have to rely on each other. If officers don't trust each other crucial information may not be passed on, evidence overlooked, lives put in danger, you know how it goes. God knows there's enough competition among the men when it comes promotion time, so I couldn't give a toss if a few of the older WPCs get their knickers in a knot over a younger member of the team gettin' promoted over 'em. Not my concern, but it becomes my concern when Phyllis has to discipline three of 'em and morale is way down. Now I know Phyllis can handle it, but..."
"But she shouldn't have to."
"Yeah. She shouldn't have to - and Annie shouldn't have been promoted. If you insisted on promoting a WPC to the rank of detective then you should have canvassed some of the older, more experienced ones. Did you even speak to 'em? Did you ask if any of 'em wanted to apply?"
Sam sat there stony-faced.
"Thought not. And I'll tell you why not. Because of your 'special relationship' with Annie, that's why. Now how do you think that looks?"
"That's not how it was, Guv!"
"Wasn't it? Could've fooled me. But you see how it looks, Sam. Favouritism - can't have it. Even if you haven't been shagging each other blind - and even if you tell the whole station you haven't been - no one will believe it. It'll be nudge, nudge, wink, wink 'cause they all know Annie got promoted 'cause of her relationship with a certain DI."
"I... I guess I didn't think..."
"No, you didn't. You went off on some half-cocked crusade to promote a woman to the rank of detective and this is what happens. I blame the lunatic fringe. It's those daft women's libbers. Equal pay for women?" he scoffed. "Not while I'm alive."
Sam sighed.
"And another thing: A female detective is a dangerous thing. Relationships develop and the next thing you know the men are fightin' each other over the WDC's attention instead of concentrating on collaring the local scum. They get distracted. They get divided. Ruins team morale."
"Women detectives are the equal of men in every department..."
"You name me one department in Manchester that has women detectives, Sam, and then you tell me again they're as good as men."
"How can they show us they're as good as men if we never give them the chance to prove themselves? It's a Catch-22, Guv."
"A what?"
"Joseph Heller."
"Whatever. Tell me: Are women detectives physical equals? Put them on the street and they're bloody useless and don't you dare tell me otherwise."
"Brains, Guv. They've got brains. Look at how clever Annie is. She's even got a degree in psychology."
"Don't start givin' me that psychology bollocks. Me hands are tied. She's a junior WPC. There are far more qualified people for the position. The men resent her and they always will no matter how good she is at her job and they resent her even more on account of you singled her out for promotion - and don't you dare deny it!"
"So you're going to demote Annie because of some outmoded notion of male superiority. That's just wonderful that is. Why don't we all start beating our chests! Or maybe we should all go back to living in caves!"
"This is on your head, Dorothy. Cartwright's gettin' demoted because you didn't think of the consequences of promoting her while you were having a relationship with her!"
"I told you I'm not shagging her."
"And I told you it doesn't matter. It's how it looks, Sam! She goes back to Uniform and that's that."
"What about a transfer?"
"Transfer? Where did you have in mind? Anywhere I transfer her to she's gonna have to learn to work with resentful men and jealous women."
"And you think Annie couldn't handle with that? I think you underestimate her, Guv. She's stronger than you might think."
"Sam, do you want her life endangered because her fellow officers resent her? Even hate her? Don't think for one minute that what's happened here won't follow her wherever she goes. You know it will. They'll say there goes Cartwright - you know, she only got promoted 'cause she spread her legs for the boss. That's what they'll say, Sam, whether you or I like it or not. Whether I transfer her to the Outer Hebrides, the Norfolk Broads or the Channel Islands it doesn't matter. They'll all find out."
"Yeah, I know. It's a small world."
"Even smaller in the ranks."
"She's a bloody good officer, Gene. She doesn't deserve this."
"I didn't say this was fair."
Sam sighed. "So she goes back to Uniform."
"That's the way it is, Sam. She should never have been promoted in the first place and you know it. This is your responsibility."
"Am I to blame for today's antiquated attitudes towards women?" Sam asked of no one in particular.
"What antiquated attitudes? There are plenty of women working here. This is a modern police station I'll have you know and I want it running smoothly - like clockwork - and I won't have dissension in the ranks. Too bloody dangerous, Sam, and you know it. If you didn't already have a relationship with Cartwright at the time of her promotion she might've stayed promoted too. Now you think about that! So you've got no one to blame but yourself. Look, if it'll make you both feel better take her out to dinner and the pictures."
"That's supposed to make up for being demoted, is it? I wouldn't blame her if she slapped me in the face."
"You're not afraid of a girlie little slap, are you, Gladys? Keep it official then."
"Got anyone in mind to take her place?"
"DC Mickey Blake. He's transferring from RCS."
"Of course. Got it all worked out, haven't you."
"He's got six years' experience. Anyway, I love pinchin' one of Litton's men from under his poncy nose."
"Oh, so that's what this is really about! It's got nothing to do with the so-called gossip, the resentment, or accusations of favouritism. It's your own personal war with Litton - and Annie's a casualty."
"That's not how it is!"
"Isn't it? Hang on. Wait a minute. Litton's team's gonna be a man down. Would he take Annie?"
"Already asked, Sam. He said the day there's a bird on his squad would be the day a woman prime minister resides in number ten. Besides, he's not likely to do me any favours anyway."
"I'm living in the stone age. I should've known an underhanded bastard like you would pull something like this. I should've known..."
"DI Tyler, need I remind you who's in charge around here? You tell Cartwright and you tell her today."
"Today?"
"Are you deaf as well as dumb? Blake starts tomorrow."
"So she's back in uniform just like that."
"Look on the bright side. Lots of men like a woman in uniform. Turns 'em on. Gives 'em wet dreams. She give you wet dreams, Sam?"
"Actually no. I like Annie 'cause she's been a good friend."
"Well, well, well, Sammy boy. So a woman in uniform doesn't do it for you. Tell me, Tyler, just what does wind your clock?" He snapped his fingers. "I know! It must be paperwork 'cause God knows you love it. Dottin' every 'i' and crossin' every 't', that's your thing. Bet it turns your tiny todger to steel, eh? Mind you, I've seen bigger peanuts."
"Wait a minute. I got an idea. Let me talk to Litton."
"Be my guest but it won't do you any good."
Gene handed him the phone and Sam dialled.
"DCI Litton? It's DI Tyler. Wondered if we could talk turkey. I understand you're not interested in trading DC Blake for WDC Cartwright, but would you be interested in trading anyone else on your squad for her? Oh? I see. Hold on." He turned to Gene. "He's willing to trade DC Andy Truscott instead of Blake for Annie. What do you think?"
"Truscott? He's forty-nine and useless. Couldn't find a paper bag in a sandwich shop, that's why he's still a DC. No way, Sam."
"Guv, if we take Truscott at least Annie won't have to endure the humiliation of going back to Uniform. It'll just be a sideways transfer and it'll stop a lot of the gossip 'cause she won't be working with me. As for Truscott, I'll whip him into shape."
"You sure?"
"Don't worry. I'll give him plenty of work to do and if he doesn't shape up he can ship out."
"So you'd have us get the incompetent Truscott instead of the competent Blake all because of a lot of girlie feelings. So help me, I don't know what this department's coming to."
Sam grinned. "You won't regret it, Guv!" He picked up the phone again. "We'll take Truscott."
"Gimme that phone." Sam passed him the receiver. "Look here, Litton, you're gettin' a competent officer with young Cartwright. You see you treat her all right. Yeah, all right, all right. When can Truscott start? Tomorrow? Good." He hung up. "Arsehole!"
"That 'arsehole' has just saved Annie from a lot of embarrassment."
"But he gets to keep Blake."
"Look on the bright side, Guv. If Truscott doesn't work out you can have another go at stealing Blake."
"Now you're talking, Sammy boy! I think this calls for a celebration, don't you?"
"I still have to tell Annie about her transfer, and she's not gonna like it. Tell you what, Guv - you want to celebrate? You can buy me dinner tonight."
"Dinner!? I were thinking of a pint down the pub."
"Dinner! And afterwards you can take me to the pictures."
"This sounds suspiciously like a date."
"I'll go home, have a shower and shave, dress myself up in a suit and tie and I'll even wear aftershave. Pick me up at seven and don't be late. Oh, and if I'm sporting a black eye, it's all your doing."
"Gladys, need I remind you that this whole thing is on your pointy little head."
"At least a transfer is the lesser of two evils. So it's dinner and the pictures tonight."
"Bloody hell, this really is a date!"
"And mind you book a decent restaurant."
"Anything else, Marjorie?"
"Yeah, you're paying. And afterwards I expect you to take me home, keep your hands to yourself in the car, and I just might invite you in for a night-cap."
"Only if you have some decent scotch."
"As a matter of fact I have. Was keeping it for a special occasion."
"You better not be taking the mick."
"The real deal, Gene. Nine year old Aberlour pure single malt."
Gene whistled in appreciation.
"I'll even show you what floats my boat."
"Cheeky bastard! Am I gonna like it?"
"You're gonna love it - and I don't mean the scotch!" He winked.
"Neither do I."
* * *
