Chapter Text
Chris quickly ducked back into a stall as Tyler entered the bogs. He wanted nothing to do with the man if he could avoid it. The DI had been even more of a prat than usual lately, and today it seemed, the Guv had had enough, giving it right back with all of his usual style, and making the other man’s mood even worse. Whatever the hell was going on, Chris really didn’t want to get involved. Tyler was muttering to himself as he banged the door shut just a bit harder than necessary. He stalked half-way across the room before turning abruptly and kicking the bins clear across the floor with a wordless cry of frustration. Chris retreated farther into his hiding place, and so had no idea what the next few bangs and clangs were from. By the time he ventured to peek out again, his DI had come to rest over by the sink. Then, suddenly, with a vicious anger, he banged his fist on the wall next to the mirror. The watching DC flinched, but did not know if it was at the blow, or the increasingly distinguishable words that still flowed from the other man’s lips. “Bent. Poof. Fairy. Queen. Bleedin’ pansy. Fucking ass queer!” “Why the bloody hell does he always go with the sexuality insults! And in front of the others, always gives them a good laugh at my expense. He can’t possible believe any of it. If he actually thought, just for one moment, that any of that were true, it would blow his homophobic little mind. No, not possible, not one of his precious team. He would take it as some sort of personal slight on his own manhood!” The conviction in Tyler’s voice as he ranted drove ice into Chris’ heart. Not that he had believed otherwise, but some small part of him had refused to surrender the desire for it to be different. “Serve the bastard right if I did it.” The angry man hissed with a manic edge to his voice Chris hadn’t heard in a while. “Went out and shagged some bloke. Where would his petty little insults be then? Turned back in his face. How would he deal with that?” The small choke of laughter that followed was bitter and ugly, and anything but amused. “That son of a bitch has actually gotten me worked up enough that I think I could. All this anger, energy, frustration. At this point a good hard fuck is exactly what I need!” Chris couldn’t believe his ears, or Tyler’s stupidity. He still couldn’t tell how serious the DI was being, but it almost didn’t matter. If this rant was all some sick, anger fueled, dark joke, then it was insanely stupid and reckless to engage in such a thing where there was any possibility of being overheard. And if, by some small chance, it wasn’t a joke? Then it was even stupider. Finally, after a few more angry bitter words, the man seemed to deflate, sinking down to rest his elbows on the sink, and put his head in his hands. Chris took the opportunity to slip towards the door, but halted, frozen there, as Tyler once again spoke. This time the words are tired, and laced with self-mockery. “Who am I kidding, it’s bloody 1973. I am not sure I could think of a more insane idea in this time and place. Besides, most gays here are still so deep in the closet it would take a miner’s helmet to find them. Even if I really wanted to do something that potentially suicidal, I wouldn’t have the first idea where to look. Just as well, what I really need to do is calm down.” Still hovering by the door, Chris was in the process of deciding whether of not to say anything, when he heard the words come out of his mouth. “You could always try The Blue Feather, ain’t more than a few blocks from here, really. Or down by the canal, always a few blokes there looking for something to pass the time.” Sam whipped around to stare wide-eyed at Chris, who stared back nearly as startled as Tyler. “What exactly are you saying Skelton?” “Just letting you know where to go for a cheap shag, if that’s all what’s stopping you.” “How much of all that did you hear?” The fear in Tyler’s eyes was just a bit thrilling, for all it mirrored the fear Chris lived with everyday. “Enough.” “And yet you haven’t run off to tell Carling or the Guv. Are you setting me up for some kind of public joke? I hadn’t figured your sense of humor for that much of a cruel streak.” Tyler’s gaze was equal parts hostile and assessing. “No joke, Boss.” Chris swallowed the lump that threatened to claw its way out of his throat, and forced himself to look his DI in the eye. He had no idea why he hadn’t slunk off while he had the chance, but now that he stood here under the gaze of a man that had taught him so much about being a good detective, he felt loath to back down from either his mentor or himself. “Seems to me that would be a bit hypocritical like.” “What are you trying to say?” The hostility and fear was fading from that gaze to be replaced by bewilderment, and a bit of honest curiosity. Chris‘ nerve gave out. He was not going to have this conversation, and certainly not in the bogs here at the station. He began backing away. “Nothing, nothing at all.” And with that, Chris left. If he stuck close to Ray for the rest of the day, he was pretty sure he could keep Tyler from speaking to him. ---- Chris spent the next few weeks terrified of what he had done, of what Tyler would do. Luckily he had gotten rather used to carrying on as if everything was fine and normal, when he was anything but. So that was what Chris did. What Tyler did was watch Chris. Everyday, at least once, he would look up to find the DI’s eyes on him. He could feel them, even when he refused to look. This made him even more nervous, because one thing he knew about Tyler, was that he was a damn fine detective. There was no way he was going to miss what was right in front of him, not when he was looking for it, no matter how hard Chris tried to hide it. He knew the man saw every second glance he gave the pretty new PC down on the first floor, every rent boy they interviewed whose eyes didn’t regard Chris like a complete stranger, every time his own eyes weren’t drawn to the new canteen girl’s tits with a magnet, like every other bloke in the room. Chris watched Tyler watching him, and he was scared. As weeks turned into months, Tyler watched, Chris watched back, and the fear faded. Partially, this was because Tyler hadn’t done anything. Surely by now he must have seen enough to be sure what he was looking at, and yet, he continued to watch and do nothing. But even more so, it was due to what Chris had seen while watching Tyler. He knew he wasn’t as good at observing or remembering as his DI was, and he didn’t dare take any kind of notes, but he was learning. Most of the time it was Tyler himself that was teaching him, helping to make him into a better DC. And what he was beginning to see was that Sam Tyler was one sick pervert. Now, Chris knew he had little room to judge, but he was finding that his own was an ordinary kind of perversion. There were men all over the city who desired the same things he did. He had even shagged a few of them. That didn’t lessen the fear or the shame, not really, but it did make them just a little bit duller somehow, less cutting. Sam Tyler was something else altogether. And why Chris should be surprised by that, he had no idea, but Tyler was sick in ways Chris hadn’t even considered before. It made him angry, because sometimes Tyler was just like everyone else. When he would eat lunch with Cartwright, smile into her eyes, and steal a look down her blouse. When he would watch her leave the room, and Chris could just see him picturing what her arse would look like without skirt or knickers in the way. He wasn’t faking that the way Chris sometimes did, he really did feel those things. He seemed to actually like Annie too; they were sweet together. That was why the other times made Chris so mad. Because sometimes, Tyler was anything but sweet. Sometimes he would get edgy and moody, then start acting like the annoying twat the Guv always said he was. Pushing and picking at everyone around him. Everyone, but most especially the men, and even more so the men he knew would eventually push back. The Guv, of course, took the brunt of it, but that was just because he was there and easy to goad into the reaction Tyler was looking for. Ray got his fair share as well, and any other man likely to lead with his fists, even suspects. Chris didn’t think any of the others knew Tyler did it on purpose. They just thought him an insufferable bastard at times, one that needed someone to put him in his place. But Chris knew. He saw every bloody nose, skinned knuckle, and bruised rib. He saw the look in Tyler’s eye when the balance finally tipped, and a swing was about to be taken. And win or lose, he saw the look in those same eyes when it was over. When he would pick himself up, dust himself off, and go back to being sweet. He was calmer after one of his punch-ups. Back to being the careful and precise man Chris admired for being everything that didn’t come easy to him. Sometimes he would even stay that way for a good long while, but it was always going to come around again. Because, Chris realized, the fights may have been what Tyler pushed until he got, but they weren’t really what he wanted, or at least not all that he wanted. Yes, Chris saw Sam Tyler for the twisted fuck that he was, and he no longer feared what the man knew about him. Now when he remembered that one-sided conversation overheard in the bogs, he had whole new reasons to be uncomfortable.