Hey! Sorry for not updating on Saturday - I was away and forgot, lol! Thank you to JudasFm, Iaveina, losttimelady and Culf for reviewing last time!
I hope you all enjoy the last but long chapter of 'Blimey, it's a baby!'
Crashes came from inside the building. All of the conscious members of the stifling hot room jerked their heads up, cautious of the noises that had just been made known to their ears.
"What was that?" the female quizzed, feeling her heart begin to beat faster, her breathing hesitant as if she was trying to be invisible.
Gene looked to Sam who, in turn, looked to Gene. They both seemed to be cracking. Tired, hungry and some in pain, this needed to end.
"I don't know, love, but I bloody well intend on finding out!" the Gov announced standing to his feet; he felt a new surge of energy burst inside him like a bomb.
Although he'd tried the tactic of barging the door down several times over the past few days (each time to no avail), he was certain that this time would be 'it'. The one where it would just swing open, releasing them from this darkened pit, crawling with inconspicuous insects and dust.
Gene, taking a good few steps back, inhaled, his chest rising, plumping itself up for the big finish. He ran like a warrior in battle at the door, his whole body colliding with the steel framework.
This time, the door budged, only slightly. He tried again and again, roaring as his body crashed into the locked passage.
Suddenly, the baby began to wail, Gene slumping his body in defeat, cursing under his breath. He'd come so close...maybe they were to be trapped in there forever?
Sam, trying to help Mrs. Smith comfort baby Aislin, had sat for half an hour in quiet contemplation. Perhaps if they couldn't break the door down, they could try something else?
Undoing his shirt by another button and throwing his green checked tie onto the ground, Gene rolled his sleeves as far as they would go up his arms; Gene Hunt was not going to be beaten by a ruddy door!
As he took in another deep breath, Sam shot up, holding his hands out against his Chief's broad shoulders.
"Move outta my way, Tyler! I'm gonna end this once and for all!"
"Gov, wait a second, I've got a couple of ideas."
Gene, relaxing his posture in annoyance, rolled his eyes. "Blimey! The boy wonder's finally come up wit' sommats! Spill it, Dorothy!"
"Ok. How about you bang on the door and I fake being ill. Mike's bound to come in here. Then, you grab him, punch him so hard he goes flying back against Morgan, us lot escape before locking them in here. Then, we call the station for help and nail them, just like that." he stated, clicking his fingers to keep Gene amused; he didn't care for his DI's speeches all that much.
"I don't think that's gonna work, Tommy Cooper," Gene replied with an added hint of sarcasm for good measure; the plan seemed much to much like something out of a Western. The Gov was past living in a movie trailer for all that. "You seem to be forgetting that we are dealing with a ruthless murderer 'ere who couldn't give a shit if we all rotted to death in this very room."
Jillian glanced up when her spouse was described as a murderer. She didn't want to admit it, naturally. Neither did she want to even marginally think about being locked in here until death.
Sam nodded in quiet defeat. "Ok, perhaps there is another way," he softly replied, walking over to the shaking blonde. "Have you got a hairpin I can borrow?"
- - - - - - - - - - -
Meanwhile, Mike Smith's face creased up in disgust.
Litton began to sweat; they could be done for right there and then. "Uh, so anyway, and I think that..."
"I think you should shut the bloody hell up!" Smith snarled, taking a pocket knife and flipping it open. He heard Litton whimper, enjoying the sounds with a perverse sense of satisfaction. "Now, I'm going to ask you once and once only - what the hell is going on upstairs?"
Smith's voice became a whisper. A whisper mumbled with great irritation, as he stepped with Litton who was cowering away, down the drive.
"I-I..."
"I SAID WHAT THE FUCKING HELL IS GOING ON UPSTAIRS?!"
"I uh, I don't know..."
Mike dragged a screaming Litton back into his house, making sure the door was bolted shut as he spun the DCI around, jabbing him harmlessly (for now) in the back. "When I say get up the stairs, I mean get up the fucking stairs, ok?"
"Um hum." Litton nodded, his lips clutched as tightly together as his eyes.
"GET UP THE FUCKING STAIRS!"
- - - - - - - - - - -
Slamming the door shut in the side room, Sergeant Carling and Constable Skelton began to panic. Their bodies pressed as firmly against the cracked, wooden door as possible, their breathing was disjointed; they couldn't leave Litton. However, they couldn't stay in the position they were in now. They'd all be dead.
"Chris, I want you to do something," Ray murmured, his hands now doused in sweat, slipping against the dodgy paintwork. "Get down that ladder and call the station - we need back up and we need it now."
Chris stopped, realising that would leave his pal all on his own. "But, Ray..."
"Chris, just do it, you div! Time's runnin' out, ok?"
Chris realised he had to do this, for the good of the whole station. Especially for Sam and the Gov.
Chris nodded, dashing over to the window. He had to do this. He knew he did.
- - - - - - - - - -
Elsewhere inside, Sam, Gene, Jillian, baby Aislin and an unconscious Morgan were still trapped; tension and heat were rapidly rising. Sam's plan wasn't working too well.
"Come on!" he grunted uncharacteristically, thumping the door in aggravation.
"I told you picking girly locks wouldn't make a blind bit of difference!"
"Like your plan worked much better?" he retorted wryly, continuing with his ways.
He heard a click and then a thud; Gene Hunt had kicked the door open, just as he unpicked the lock!
His hands trudging against his body, Gene felt lost without his handgun. Now, it was time to fight with his bare fists the old fashioned way; with brute, force and ignorance!
Sam assisted Jillian in getting up, holding baby Aislin as they made their way onto the landing of the semi-detached house. They shut the door behind, Morgan not even attempting to escape with them; he was so battered and bruised he couldn't even try and get up. Although, he was slowly coming round after millions of blows to the head.
Then, they all stopped dead in their tracks; an angered, snarling monster of a man was growling as he made his way up the stairs, complete with one terrified looking DCI Litton!
"Litton? What in the bloody 'ell are you doin' 'ere?"
Litton, trembling at the knife closing in on his spine, grunted. "What the heck do you think? I'm trying to save you aren't I?"
"Well you're doin' a bloody lousy job of it!" Gene retaliated, standing back at the fierce glance that he got from Mike. "I think a retarded pixie could 'ave done a better job!"
"How the fucking hell did you get out?" Mike yelled, digging the knife a little closer to the Chief Inspector's back; he wasn't in the mood for any of Gene Hunt's jocular quips.
"Well just a bit of ingenuity, pal!" Gene spoke, rather too confident for Sam and Jillian's liking. "What are you doing with my fellow officer?"
Making their way to the top of the stairs, Smith began to breath harder, faster; he wanted to scare them into submission. He at least needed to look like he was in control.
"I, DCI Hunt, am going to make an example out of him!" Mike grinned madly, like a Cheshire Cat with a traumatic mental disorder. "Right after I've made an example out of this bitch!"
Flinging Litton down the stairs, Mike snatched Jillian from behind Sam, holding the knife dangerously close to her neck.
Sam gasped, clutching the baby closer to his chest. "Mike, mate, think about this!"
"Shut up, Williams!" Mike spat, his clasps becoming tighter on his estranged wife.
"Please, don't hurt her!" Sam pleaded; he could still hear his Mother's tragic words in his confused head...
"It's your Aunty Jillian, Sammy - she's dead."
"Give me ONE good reason why I should?" Mike snarled, pressing the knife closer to her neck; she felt the cold, stainless steel against her skin, bloody trickling from the tiny gash. She mewled, trying to keep as still as possible; any slight movements and it could all be over in an instant.
"Because...she's the Mother of your child," Sam paused, feeling tears well in his eyes. "You're not a bad man, Mike. I know that..."
"Why coz I'm your Uncle?" Smith snorted snidely, thinking back to all of his conversations with Frank Morgan.
"Piss off and let 'er go!" Gene snapped, not wanting any bullshit.
"NO!"
"Mate, please, this isn't the way to live your life," Sam sternly begged. "You have something so precious. You have a child that, regardless of what you've done in your life, will need you. Equally, she needs her Mummy. Please, please don't deprive her of that."
Mike looked from his wife to his daughter, his face rock hard; he was berserk, having a copper telling him what to do with his life.
"It's your Aunty Jillian, Sammy - she's dead."
"Listen, Mike, do you really want your daughter to be an orphan?" Sam questioned coldly, trying to seem less desperate. "That's what it's gonna be like, for her. With her Mummy dead and her Father locked in jail."
Jillian whimpered at the notion of her death; she hoped that she wouldn't choke on DI Tyler's words.
"I remember, Mike, when we met you in that hospital a few days ago. You were so concerned for your baby's welfare. You wanted to protect her. You told me that children were a precious gift, that they should be cherished, loved. Now, all you're doing in harming her," Sam spoke earnestly, holding Aislin upwards. "Please, stop this. Now."
Suddenly, the right hand bedroom door crashed open, everyone twitching at the commotion. Stood in a line were DS Carling, DC Skelton and DC Cartwright. Annie couldn't hide her smile; she was so glad that Sam was ok even though he looked a little worse for wear.
"Mr. Smith, I suggest you put that bird and your knife down." Ray urged gruffly as he reached in his trouser pocket, pulling out a revolver.
Chris and Annie mimicked his actions. Gene cringed inside; after all of the sweet talking Tyler had just done, they were about to piss it all away with one single shot.
"Look, Mike. I don't want to instruct my officers to shoot. But they will unless you let your wife go, got it?" DCI Hunt demanded as his lip curled with mere aggression.
"Come on mate," Sam coaxed. "We can end this peacefully - just drop the knife."
"It's your Aunty Jillian, Sammy - she's dead."
On baited breaths, Manchester's A Division waited for the weapon - and woman - to be dropped. Gene gave the nod for them to load the bullets, Smith turning to them with eyes closed and his face shrunken.
Thankfully, with a drawn-out sigh, Mike complied after much deliberation, Jillian running into the arms of Inspector Tyler and her baby.
Ray smirked in satisfaction, with Chris' help cuffing Mike up to make sure he wouldn't go back on his word. Smith couldn't take his eyes off the ground; he couldn't believe this was happening. Frank Morgan had promised him that they'd never be found out.
Gene patted Sam on the back as the younger man handed the baby back to her mother; it was rather ironic that Aislin, so sweet, innocent and oblivious to this whole thing was at the centre of all of this. In the oddest of ways at least.
"Right, Ray, Chris, get that twat Morgan cuffed and down the station too - I want these bastards locked up tonight." the Gov demanded, taking hold of Mike who wriggled, protesting to DCI Hunt's grips. Gene kneed him in the kidney's watching his strength diminish as he led him away to one of the awaiting police cars.
Jillian stood taller, a watery smile making her face succumb to happiness as she spied the other coppers venture into the room where she'd been enclosed for a short while. "I know that sometimes I moan about her and feel a bit low but I could never do without her." she proclaimed, looking down at the sleeping body wrapped warmly in her arms; her baby girl.
"I don't know how true it all is, but Mike said that you've been feeling a bit under the weather ever since she was born?" Sam questioned gently, watching Jillian's tentative, sad nods. "There is help out there. You aren't on your own, love."
Jillian became overwhelmed with emotion, kissing Sam gratefully on the cheek. "I know there is. Thank you, for everything, Sam."
"Don't even mention it." Sam beamed, urging his 'aunty' to keep in contact with him, to let him know how they were getting on.
Although this was her home, Jillian couldn't bare the thought of being there for the time being. She rang her Mother straight away, wanting to escape the trauma of the past few weeks. Perhaps even escape Manchester for good; to bring her baby girl up away from any traces of her Father.
Sam let his palms trail across his face, wincing at the tender marks on his cheek. The only two people left on the landing were him and Annie, now that Ray and Chris were literally carrying a limp Morgan to the car.
As their eyes slowly connected, blue and hazels melting into one, they both openly sobbed in each others arms, not wanting to let go. Ever.
"Thank God you're ok." she cried, running her fingers through his hair as they stood in quiet appreciation of each other, enriching themselves with one another once again, a pleasure that, at times, both of them doubted would ever come true.
"Oi, Gladys, put sparkle knickers down - we've got a case to close!"
Laughing lightly and wiping away each others tears, they walked off hand in hand, taking the short drive back to the station as a blissful homecoming for the both of them.
- - - - - - - - - -
"Right, since DCI Fairy-Pants is still outta it, looks like we're gonna 'ave to interview you first, Mr. Smith." Gene declared, pacing around the room, wanting to make Mike motion sick.
"You can't make me speak," Mike smirked, as if he was the one ruling the show. "Besides, you have no actual evidence that I had anything to do with it. Not a sausage."
Hunt, now stood shoulder to shoulder with his DI, shrugged; they were in a bit of a tight spot.
But not for too long.
Groping inside his leather jacket, Inspector Tyler pulled out a tape recorder, a playful grin capturing his lips. The Gov laughed deeply. His mind flashed back to when Sam must have actually turned the thing on. He wasn't quite sure; but he was damn glad he did it!
"Thank Einstein!" The Gov chuckled; maybe science wasn't such a bad thing after all?
"Here, Mr. Smith, we have a full account of events from the very first time you came in contact with Frank Morgan."
"Who by?"
"Your wife, Mr. Smith."
"Rubbish! That proves nothing!"
Listening to the screeching of the now battered machine, Sam pressed play at a rather apt moment.
"Mrs. Smith, I know this may be hard for you to answer and I apologise for asking but did Mike Smith kill any of those women?"
"Ye-yes. He was going to do it again. A girl, looked barely older than fifteen in the alleyway outside the house..."
Sam stopped the tape, the disbelief evident in Mike's eyes. "THAT BITCH!" he stood, tipping the table over.
"Plus, just so that you know, our team has forensic evidence that you were the one who stunned myself and DCI Hunt here with the flower pots that were outside your house when we visited you the day before."
"I'm gonna..."
Gene lunged at Mike before he could lay a finger on his DI. "I suggest you si' down and sign this bloody confession, Mike, before I beat every type of shit out of our body, got it?" he sniped, twisting his arms to his back, watching Smith squirm in defeat.
He picked up the paper and pen as Gene and Sam glanced at each other in quiet success.
- - - - - - - - - -
Strolling into the Railway Arms after a horrible absence, Gene Hunt and Sam Tyler received one of the loudest obviations they'd ever heard. The Gov bowed before everyone, demanding that they all bought him a drink. Sam, meanwhile, subtly a quiet seat in the corner, reflecting on the past few days of living hell.
"Hey, long time no see!" Nelson simpered, shaking the Inspectors hand. "What can I get you, mon bruv?"
"Just a diet coke, please." Sam said, taking the half empty bottle of pain pills from his pocket.
The barman looked at him in silent horror, deciding it wasn't best to ask what exactly they were for. The drink was on the house so Sam gratefully accepted, sipping the dark caramel coloured beverage sparingly; how he longed for a Pepsi Max!
A paper was thrown down before him, Sam noticing the proud presence next to him. "We made the front page."
"That's great." Sam nodded a little down hearted, reading the headline 'Captured Copper's Branded Heroes'. Sam didn't like the use of the word hero; really, they were only doing their job.
Gene noticed the look of angst on his DI's face. "Look, I'm sorry about forcing you to tell me about your past. That were wrong of me - you should 'ave been able to do it when you wanted to. If you wanted to."
An apology from Gene Hunt was as rare as a drunk that made sense. However, Sam nodded in appreciation. "I'm sorry if you thought I didn't trust you. I do, it's just, well..."
"You were worried in case I let it slip to the whole station? I can understand that. I've trusted you with a lot of stuff over the past few months, Sammy-Boy, some of it I've never trust the missus with."
Sam shone on the inside, glancing over to his Chief. If anything, this whole bizarre yet tragic scenario had made their faith in each other stronger, bringing the two Officers closer together.
Tyler patted Gene on the shoulder. "Thank you for getting us out of there."
"No problem. I think your girly lock picking ways did play a part too, though." Gene tittered, Sam imitating his actions as he looked into the bottomless glass.
Sam glanced over at his Gov. "Thank you."
Between the two of them, they knew exactly what Sam was thanking Gene for; for being a good friend, helping him when he needed it most.
"Sometimes your gay boy, science palaver 'elps. 'Ow did you sneak that tape recorder in there?"
"Just happened. He only looked for my gun when I first got there and when Jillian started talking, I thought it would be a good idea to get it on record."
"Poor Litton - fallin' down the stairs like that." Gene tisked, his voice coated with sarcasm; no matter what would happen, his and the other DCI's relationship would never change. That, he was certain of.
Both men stopped as a young lady approached the Inspector, a Gin and Tonic nursed in her hands. Her smile was pleasantly bright without being blinding.
"I'll leave you and the plonk to it." Gene decided, tapping Sam on the hand as he waltzed over to Nelson, only a little unsteady on his feet.
Annie took the seat beside her boyfriend, her head tilted on one side. His face had lit up the moment she came into view. "Are you ok?"
"Yeah, fine. Tell me about this famous DI Norton that I've heard a bit about," Sam questioned, folding his arms. "Don't tell me I have competition?"
Annie chuckled, taking another sip of her drink. "To you, darling, no one does compare." she pecked him on the lips gradually, as Sam became more relaxed, his moist lips floating like a butterfly over hers.
She broke away for a split seconds, feeling that Sam wasn't fully returning the favour. "Ok, we found out that 'e's Morgan's DI. I flirted with 'im as part of our plan and that was it. By the time we'd come back, he was gone without a trace."
Sam, relieved that everything was nearly at a close, took her hand in his. "I don't want to be here for much longer." he spoke, his eyes drooping a little; he just needed sleep.
Annie stood to her feet. "Neither do I. Just let me go to the Lady's and I'll take you home, Inspector."
Sam raised an eyebrow. "Would you be interested in spending the night, Miss Cartwright?"
"Only if I'm asked nicely." she winked, grinning warmly once again, gracing Sam's lips with a small but valuable kiss. "Back in a moment."
Sam sat up, glad that this was nearly all coming to an end. He felt he could relax a lot more...
"Sammy, darling, it's your Mum. Dr. Morgan's been arrested - something about bad practise. I'm never going to leave you, not ever. You never have to worry about me turning this life support machine off. It won't happen. I love you, always and forever. You can always guarantee that."
Sam Tyler felt a smile erupt on his lips, a proper smile. Not one that he had to put on for the sake of appearing happy because now he was happy. More than happy. As he looked around, he was surrounding by people who he liked - some of them loved.
Phyllis, even though haggard, was the Mother Hen of them all, keeping them all in place when need be. Ray and Chris, the bumbling duo who both had much more credit than either gave each other. Gene, one of the most valuable friends Sam had ever had either though he would hate to come over 'all Dorothy' and admit it. And Annie, sweet Annie, the person that could always help (or drag) him through the day with her spirit alone.
Now, he felt he had a purpose in 1973. He'd saved a baby being put in an orphanage, prevented his 'aunty' being killed by a murdering scumbag. Sam did have to let his mind wonder for a few moments. He wondered whether Jillian would reappear in the future, find her daughter and his Mum? Now that he'd been able to save her in 70's Manchester, would that mean she'd live once again? He hoped so, for all of them.
Annie returned graciously, sweeping him with another passionate kiss. "Yours or mine?"
"I really don't mind."
Waving goodbye to his comrades, with his Mum's considerate words still floating in his head, DI Sam Tyler knew he now had the best of both worlds.
And to him, that was perfection.
Well, there you 'ave it! That's the end of 'Blimey, it's a baby!'. A big thank you to anyone who read and especially those of you who gave me invaluable advice or reviews throughout, particularly to JudasFm!
I'm working on a couple of more Life On Mars stories, one that should have its first chapter out soon, so stay tuned. Any last thoughts are greatly appreciated and I hope you all enjoyed the finally!
Thank you once again for reading - please review!
Eleanor.