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out_thereTitle: Full Sensory Delusion
Fandoms: Life on Mars/Ashes to Ashes
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Apart from any and all mistakes, since it's not beta'd. Also, since I'm only seen the first ep of AtA, my dates are probably not entirely correct.
Request: Written at![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
jmtorres's request for "Sam Tyler bitchslapping Alex Drake."
Note: Today's procrastination and spammage brought to you by my promise to go to the gym afterwork and my attempt to avoid it.
She recognised the man standing in Gene's office. Recognised him from the file notes, from the mugshot clipped to the psychologist's report. From one of the clippings pinned up on Gene's wall.
It was Tyler.
Sam Tyler. Dead in reality. Supposedly dead in her fantasy, too. But he was stanidng in Gene's office, hands in his pockets, listening as Gene took a swig from the silver flask in his fingers.
This couldn't be right, couldn't be good. The man was supposed to be dead. Her delusion was supposed to have a coherent narrative, not have people return to from the grave, she thought as she stepped towards the office.
She pushed the door open, noticed the bright red polish on her fingernails. (She hadn't painted them. She was sure she hadn't painted them.)
Turned to stare at the sign of her decreasing sanity. "You're supposed to be dead," she said.
Tyler raised his eyebrows at her, and turned to Gene. "Who's this?"
"Drake. Alex." Gene smiled, but it looked more like a sneer. "Transferred to us just like you. Mad as a hatter."
Tyler laughed. Well, he huffed out a sound that was probably supposed to be a laugh. "Like me, huh?"
"You died in 2007. September. Coma for seven months," Alex said, rushing the words out. "You're supposed to be dead here."
There was a look in Tyler's eyes -- narrow, guarded surprise -- but Gene didn't seem to notice. "See?" he asked, getting up. "Just like you. Why do I get the loonies transferred to my team?"
"Because you get on so well with your superiors," Tyler replied sarcastically. He glanced out at the desks, then said, "Is that Chris helping himself to a prisoner's cash?"
"Bloody hell," Gene muttered, striding out to stop him.
Alex was staring at Tyler -- 80s fashion, 80s hairstyle, but definitely Tyler -- so she saw the way his expression changed as Gene left. Saw the serious glint in his eyes when he looked at her. "When were you born?"
"1974."
He nodded, but didn't seem too surprised. "Been here long?"
"A month. Maybe. I was taken as a hostage and shot--"
"Doesn't matter," he said quickly. "Doesn't matter why, doesn't matter what you were doing. This is a second chance. Make the most of it."
"This isn't a second chance!" she exploded. "This is a full sensory delusion, designed to keep my mind active while my body recuperates. This isn't real, this isn't life! This is all inside my head."
Tyler stepped foreward casually and then he slapped her hard across the cheek. It brought tears to her eyes and he didn't seem to care. "Did that hurt?"
Blinking away any sign of weakness, Alex swallowed and said, "That's assualt. And yes, it hurt."
"Then it's real enough," Tyler said, and opened Gene's office door.
She stood there, staring, as he walked over to Gene and gave Chris a friendly cuff across the back of his head. Chris spluttered something about serial numbers and called Tyler 'boss'. As she watched, Alex raised a hand to her cheek, felt the heat against her fingers, the chill of her hands against her skin.
"Full sensory delusion," she told herself firmly.
Fandoms: Life on Mars/Ashes to Ashes
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Apart from any and all mistakes, since it's not beta'd. Also, since I'm only seen the first ep of AtA, my dates are probably not entirely correct.
Request: Written at
jmtorres's request for "Sam Tyler bitchslapping Alex Drake."Note: Today's procrastination and spammage brought to you by my promise to go to the gym afterwork and my attempt to avoid it.
She recognised the man standing in Gene's office. Recognised him from the file notes, from the mugshot clipped to the psychologist's report. From one of the clippings pinned up on Gene's wall.
It was Tyler.
Sam Tyler. Dead in reality. Supposedly dead in her fantasy, too. But he was stanidng in Gene's office, hands in his pockets, listening as Gene took a swig from the silver flask in his fingers.
This couldn't be right, couldn't be good. The man was supposed to be dead. Her delusion was supposed to have a coherent narrative, not have people return to from the grave, she thought as she stepped towards the office.
She pushed the door open, noticed the bright red polish on her fingernails. (She hadn't painted them. She was sure she hadn't painted them.)
Turned to stare at the sign of her decreasing sanity. "You're supposed to be dead," she said.
Tyler raised his eyebrows at her, and turned to Gene. "Who's this?"
"Drake. Alex." Gene smiled, but it looked more like a sneer. "Transferred to us just like you. Mad as a hatter."
Tyler laughed. Well, he huffed out a sound that was probably supposed to be a laugh. "Like me, huh?"
"You died in 2007. September. Coma for seven months," Alex said, rushing the words out. "You're supposed to be dead here."
There was a look in Tyler's eyes -- narrow, guarded surprise -- but Gene didn't seem to notice. "See?" he asked, getting up. "Just like you. Why do I get the loonies transferred to my team?"
"Because you get on so well with your superiors," Tyler replied sarcastically. He glanced out at the desks, then said, "Is that Chris helping himself to a prisoner's cash?"
"Bloody hell," Gene muttered, striding out to stop him.
Alex was staring at Tyler -- 80s fashion, 80s hairstyle, but definitely Tyler -- so she saw the way his expression changed as Gene left. Saw the serious glint in his eyes when he looked at her. "When were you born?"
"1974."
He nodded, but didn't seem too surprised. "Been here long?"
"A month. Maybe. I was taken as a hostage and shot--"
"Doesn't matter," he said quickly. "Doesn't matter why, doesn't matter what you were doing. This is a second chance. Make the most of it."
"This isn't a second chance!" she exploded. "This is a full sensory delusion, designed to keep my mind active while my body recuperates. This isn't real, this isn't life! This is all inside my head."
Tyler stepped foreward casually and then he slapped her hard across the cheek. It brought tears to her eyes and he didn't seem to care. "Did that hurt?"
Blinking away any sign of weakness, Alex swallowed and said, "That's assualt. And yes, it hurt."
"Then it's real enough," Tyler said, and opened Gene's office door.
She stood there, staring, as he walked over to Gene and gave Chris a friendly cuff across the back of his head. Chris spluttered something about serial numbers and called Tyler 'boss'. As she watched, Alex raised a hand to her cheek, felt the heat against her fingers, the chill of her hands against her skin.
"Full sensory delusion," she told herself firmly.
