The grand finale!

Special thanks to Jazzola and Hawkslayer for their motivating reviews!

Part Sixteen

"The firecrackers." Sam shook his head and sighed. "That's when I should have known."

"Excuse me?" Gene looked up from his cards and took the cigarette from his lips, peering quizzically at his DI. "What are you moanin' about, Gladys?"

"The fact that I should have known earlier," Sam insisted. The younger man's mind had wandered off entirely from the poker game in the pub. "It's just the sort of thing a childish person like Babbin and a petty person like Gore would do."

"It's your go, Guv," Ray spoke up from Gene's right, clearly impatient with Sam's over-analysis of the case.

Gene had to admit, the DI was making sense. But... They had a game to play. "We'll discuss this later, but for now..." He smiled broadly, pleased with himself, as he laid his cards on the table. "Three tens."

Ray groaned and scooped up his pair of eights, tossing the cards into the discard pile.

Chris sighed, resigned. "I've got nothin'," he informed the others, laying his cards on the table.

Gene winced as he looked down at Chris's hand. "Then why didn't yeh fold, Chris?"

Chris shrugged. "I thought maybe you were bluffin'."

"What, all three of us?" Ray scoffed. "That's not likely, ya div."

"Oh well." The DC shrugged again.

"Sam," Gene prompted.

Sam was looking away from the table, looking toward the window, his eyes unfocused.

He was still injured, Gene reminded himself with a wince. Probably still running a fever. He found himself suddenly wishing he hadn't talked his DI into this poker game. Maybe he should have let him go home, get some rest.

"Boss." Chris nudged Sam's elbow with his own.

"Oh. Sorry." Sam blinked rapidly and turned back to the table, casually laying down his cards. "Full house," he murmured, still seeming distracted.

"What!" Ray exclaimed.

Gene was wondering the same thing. How had Sam managed that? "Are you cheating, Tyler?"

"Who, me? No. 'Course not." Sam grinned a bit, finally.

Gene realized he had been missing that grin. He held back a sigh of relief. "Well. You win, then."

"Good." Sam nodded, still seeming distracted... and maybe a bit tired, Gene thought. Probably still in a bit of pain. He watched in concern as the DI scooped his winnings into a neat little pile in front of him.

Then Gene stood. He couldn't take much more worry like this. "Come on, Tyler. Get your jacket."

"What?" Sam looked up at him with a frown of confusion.

"We're goin' to discuss the case and talk about them firecrackers," Gene told him, though he intended to do no such thing.

"Not playin' another round of poker, Guv?" Chris asked.

"Not tonight. You and Ray play war or sommat." As Chris and Ray began to banter over card games, Gene walked away from the table and waited for Sam at the edge of the bar. He watched as Sam slid gingerly into his jacket and left the table.

"What's going on, Guv?" Sam asked as he approached the bar.

Gene fought down the urge to grin at or smack his DI. Tired, beat up and distracted, and the little bastard still noticed things. "Come on." He jerked his head in the direction of the door.

"Where are we going?" Sam wondered aloud as he followed his DCI across the pub.

"My house," Gene grunted.

"To look at what's left of those firecrackers?" Sam inquired, looking askance at the Guv. He clearly didn't believe that, not for a moment. Too smart for his own good, was Sam Tyler.

"Just come on!" Gene snapped.

With a wave to Nelson, Gene led Sam out onto the street and to the Cortina. "Get in," he ordered.

Sam stood still by the car and lifted his chin. "Could you please just tell me what's going on?" he asked, a hint of irritation slipping into his voice.

"What? Is there something you'd rather do tonight, Sammy-boy? You got plans to go see some girl? Or maybe—maybe watch a little telly?" Gene countered.

Sam flinched a bit. "Well, no... But-"

"But nothin'. Get. In. The car."

"Fine." Sam sighed like an eye-rolling teenager and plopped into the passenger seat as Gene climbed in on the driver's side.

Gene didn't miss Sam's soft hiss of pain at the quick motion. He slammed his door shut and cranked up the Cortina. "We're goin' to my house so you can get some good food in ya and maybe even some medicine," he informed the younger man as he steered the car away from the curb. It was too late now for Sam to protest or get out of the car.

"Oh." Sam was quiet for a moment, perhaps startled into silence. "Well... Thanks, Guv. I-"

"Now don't go babblin' at me, Tyler," Gene interrupted. If Sam went all sappy on him, he didn't know what he would do. He just knew he would regret it later. "I can't have my second-in-command fainting like a little girl on the next job because he won't take care of himself. In case you've forgotten, you had the crap beaten out of you very recently, and you haven't had much rest since."

Sam seemed to relax a bit in the seat, looking straight ahead. "Fine. Kidnap me. Whatever." He closed his eyes and leaned his head back. "As long as I get to eat your wife's cooking..."

Things had changed, Sam realized. Changed again. Was his life always going to be doing that, shifting and changing and keeping him off-balance? He sighed and climbed out of Gene's car, stricken with the urge to stretch, but resistant of it, because he knew such movement would hurt. He turned to Gene, who was looking sideways at him over the top of the Cortina.

"Well?"

"Least I didn't have to drag yeh out of the car this time, Tyler," Gene replied quickly, looking away from his DI and walking toward the house. "Come along then."

Sam followed Gene across the yard, feeling suddenly awkward. Gene was right. The last time he had been here, the Guv had practically carried him into the house. Then Gene and Alice had kept him alive—kept his fever down, fed him, wrapped his cracked ribs. He felt himself blushing and stood rubbing the back of his head as Gene turned the knob on the front door.

Gene started to step inside, then turned to look back at Sam, eyes narrowed.

It was strange, this concern coming from Gene. It was almost as if the Guv had gotten used to looking after him while he was hurt and sick. Come to think of it, he may have been looking after me all along. I just didn't see it. But things had changed now. This last case had changed everything, brought things out in the open.

"You okay, Sam?" Gene asked quietly.

Sam bobbed his head. "Yeah. Fine."

Gene hesitated, then closed the door and stepped back from it, turning to Sam. "Don't you let this go to you head or ever repeat what I'm about to say." He wagged a gloved finger in Sam's face. "If you do, I swear to you, I will make what those louts did to you feel like a massage. You got that?"

Sam barely restrained a smirk. He was sure now, finally, that Gene would do no such thing. Maybe they'd have a punch-up once in a while, but Gene would never endanger his life. It was funny to think it, but Gene cared about him in a strange, bossy sort of way. "I've got it, Guv."

"Alright. So here goes..." Gene looked away from his DI, fidgeting with his gloves. Finally, he looked back at Sam, and there was sincerity in his eyes. "I'm proud of you, Sam."

Sam blinked and leaned closer to Gene, doubting what he thought he'd heard. "Excuse me, what?"

Gene ground his teeth together. "I'm proud of you, Sam," he repeated slowly.

"Oh." Sam straightened, eyebrows rising. "Really? For what?" He still wasn't quite processing his DCI's words.

"For the way you've handled yourself through this whole... situation," Gene elaborated, his eyes wandering. "You didn't give in to Gore and Babbin's bullying. You didn't... give up and die. And although you fainted a few times like a girly ponce, you were willing to help the rest of us with the investigation, in spite of being injured." His lips twitched with a barely restrained smile. "And the sight of you kicking at that bastard Babbin was bloody hilarious."

DI and DCI met each other's eyes.

Sam couldn't help it. He had to laugh. And to his pleasant surprise, Gene laughed along with him. Sam laughed until his ribs started to ache again, then groaned and wrapped an arm around his waist. "Oh, God. Don't make me laugh like that, Gene." He sighed and leaned back against the cool brick exterior of the Hunts' house.

"Stop being a silly girl, and come on." Gene patted Sam's arm and opened the door, then walked inside.

Sam grinned and hesitated for a moment before following the Guv. He had to savor these small victories.

Sometimes change was good.

Sam was so glad he wasn't at home alone.

Gene closed his eyes and sighed, leaning into his wife's touch. "Oh, God, yes," he murmured.

Alice laughed softly and leaned forward to kiss him on the cheek as she continued to knead his shoulders with deft fingers.

Gene thought back on his threat to Sam, and his eyes drifted to where the skinny DI was sleeping on the sofa. He supposed Sam was going to stay the night... which was probably for the best. If the lad went home alone, there was no telling what might happen. He could wind up sick or handcuffed to his bed or framed for murder or attacked...

"Shall we adopt him?" Alice asked softly, leaning over her husband's shoulder,

Gene "hmphed" and shrugged his shoulders. "Do we have a choice? He's a good man, Alice. A good policeman. It would be a waste to let him get killed in some stupid way." He ran a hand down his face, despairing of Sam Tyler's propensity for trouble. "And he's always getting in situations that lead to getting killed in stupid ways."

Alice released Gene's shoulders and slowly stood up from the easy chair.

"Where are you going?" Gene asked, frowning at the absence of massage. He tugged at one leg of Alice's trousers.

"Oh, you!" Alice nudged him with her foot, grinning. "I've got dishes to do! Or don't you want me to have pans to cook breakfast in tomorrow?"

Gene sighed. "A'right, woman. You win. Make it snappy, though!"

Alice stuck out her tongue at him and hurried off into the kitchen.

Gene stood and stretched, then plopped gracelessly into his easy chair, turning to look at Sam. The DI had fallen asleep soon after supper, clearly worn out with the events of the day, and perhaps... comfy, at ease with Gene and Alice.

"You hang in there, Sam," he told the sleeping man softly. "And don't you worry. I'll be lookin' after yeh. Even if I have to knock some sense into yeh every once in a while." You're not alone, Sam, he added silently.

Sam was dreaming about a forest by a lake. It was dark and cold, and he was alone, running through the trees, beside the water. He was frantic to find someone else.

The dream world blurred and shifted, and now he was running down a dark corridor.

Then a voice broke through the haze.

"You're not alone, Sam."

And Sam smiled in his sleep.