Second LoM fic! Oh Life on Mars, how do I adore thee? Let me count the ways… or something like that. Spoilers for episode 7 but only very very mild ones. Evolved from a beautiful plot bunny on the LoM livejournal comm, lifein1973.

Shames me to admit this has been on that comm for months now, ever since it wrote it just after ep 7 aired but I couldn't be arsed sticking it up here. Heh.

Disclaimer: Nicht mine, characters and Life on Mars owned by BBC and respective blah blah blah.

The locker room was strangely empty for a Saturday evening- there was usually at least one or two people there planning the 'bangin' time' they were going to have on their day off (sometimes in more ways than one) or bemoaning their misfortunes in looking after the kids or whatnot. This evening, there was only Sam- or so it was before a slightly dazed Chris Skelton came in.

"Alright, Chris? What did the 'guv want?"

Snapping back from whatever thoughts he'd been in, the glazed expression lifted from his face, leaving a delighted enthusiasm that had Sam smiling along with him against his own will.

"I think I've just been promoted, boss. He's made me a DS!"

Sam grinned, delighted for Chris- it was true that half the time Chris tended to make a bit of a cock-up of the cases they worked on, but he was eager to learn and already beginning to show signs of a true copper in the making. Not to mention the fact that it was also true that his cock-ups eventually leaded to further revealing of some parts of the cases anyway.

"That's fantastic, Chris! Have you told anyone else yet?"

Chris ducked his head, smiling bashfully. "No, you're the first to know."

Sam clapped his hand on his shoulder. "I'm honoured." Chris couldn't look happier if he tried.

"First to know what?"

Turning, they say DC Ray Carling at the doorway. Chris immediately took a few steps back from Sam as if scalded, his cheerful expression melting into one of guilt.

"Ray!" he exclaimed, "Uh…" His eyes darted from Ray to Sam in a worried manner- ever since the 'incident-that-nobody-ever-spoke-of' last week, the two of them hadn't gone unsupervised by the 'guv in a room, and Chris didn't feel like peeling Ray off the floor again.

However, Ray was acting as if Sam didn't even exist- his focus was all on him.

"First to know what, Chris?" he pressed again.

The bounce having left his feet, Chris felt strangely weighted- he didn't want Ray to know he'd been promoted, he didn't want... Looking down at the grimy floor, he shuffled his feet slightly, unwilling to say anything, yet feeling obliged to say something.

"He's been promoted, Ray," said Sam into the silence. "A DS." The words 'what you were, before you acted like a stupid pillock' hung in the air, even if they hadn't been said.

Risking a glance away from the floor, Chris glanced up to Ray and immediately looked back down again out of... of what? Shame? Something else? Chris didn't want to find out. Ray had looked staggered, like he'd been slapped in the face.

"That's... great, Chris." He finally managed, sounding oddly hollow. "Congratulations."

Chris grinned in relief, totally missing the fact that Ray had sounded devoid of emotions. "Thanks Ray! How about a round at the pub? My shot." he said, with the proud of a young boy who'd earned his first wages going at the paper round.

"Nah. I'm busy," said Ray. Gesturing outside, he added, "I'm, uh… meeting Trudy." Without waiting for a response, he turned and left.

Chris turned to Sam, hurt and confusion written on his face. "Di-did I say something wrong?"

Sam shook his head, a partly sympathetic, partly knowing look in his eyes.

"No, Chris. It just that..." debating how to put it, Sam decided to put it as delicately as he could. "Well, you told me first. Not him."

Puzzled, Chris thought it over for a couple of seconds- had Sam hoped that the subtle hint had been received; he was in for a disappointment.

"I don't think I understand, boss." Chris admitted. Sam just smiled and slung an arm over Chris' shoulder with a resigned sigh.

"It doesn't matter. Now about that drink-" At that moment, Gene strode into the room, his air demanding the attention of all and sundry.

"Oi, Tweedledum and Tweedledee! I'm off to the pub, and one of yous is gonna buy me a drink! Who's payin'?"

Outside the station, Ray leaned against the wall, a crushed look on his face that (as one young lady said to her friend) looked as if he'd 'just got the shove from his missus'.