Title :

Title : Handbags and Handcuffs

Pairing : Gene/Alex

Rating : Brown Cortina for the smut in Chapter 2

Disclaimer : LoM/A2A are not mine, a fact about which I weep every night. They all belong to Kudos/BBC

Spoilers : None that I can think of.

Warning : There is a touch, just a tiny hint, of non-con but nothing that isn't resolved happily.

Summary : Alex makes a mistake and needs retraining in how to restrain a suspect.

A/N : For Blue-Jackal who set this challenge – taking shameful advantage of a drunk person!

--o0o--

"DRAKE!!

Gene's roar rolled like thunder through the abandoned warehouse.

Alex knelt, panting with pain, one hand covering her chest where her erstwhile suspect, Michael Ayres, had dug his elbow in whilst making good his escape. She hung her head, wheezing slightly as she breathed through the pain, handcuffs dangling loosely from one hand listening to the thump of Gene's boots as he galloped towards the spot where she stood.

"What the fuck happened?" Gene demanded as he loomed over her. "Where's the collar?" He continued as she gazed numbly up at him.

She mumbled something under her breath, too embarrassed to say it out loud.

"What? Speak up woman!"

Alex sagged even lower, if that were possible. He was going to make her say it out loud then, humiliate her in front of the rest of the team.

"I lost him, Guv." She muttered sullenly.

"Lost him? How the fuck could you lose him? He were only a little nipper of a bloke!"

Alex tried to explain. She told Gene how she'd had the suspect down and was attempting to handcuff him when he'd suddenly reared backwards, elbowing her in the chest and throwing her off him.

Gene's eyes narrowed and he scowled down at her.

"You dozy plonk!" He began, "Can't even cuff a nonce properly! Bloody women, you're all bloody useless when it comes down to it. By rights none of you should be out on the streets wi' us if you can't make a nice clean take. Bloody liability you are . . . ."

Gene's lecture continued all the way back to the car. Alex trotted alongside him, trying to keep pace with his long strides and to look suitably humble whenever he glanced at her though she ached to punch his smug, arrogant face. Alright, so she'd messed up – big time – but she wasn't a schoolgirl, didn't need to be verbally spanked quite so publicly. Whilst she brooded her chest ached every time she breathed, driving her even deeper into her blue funk.

Gene eventually ran out of steam and, opening the car door for her, gestured with his head.

"Alright. In yer get."

Alex folded herself into the front seat, wincing as she did so.

"What's up." He looked concerned.

"Nothing," she replied. "It's OK."

"No it bloody well isn't." Gene looked as if he were going to explode again. "I asked you a question and I bloody well expect a reply. What. Is. Wrong?"

Alex sighed. "If you must know, he caught me with his elbow when he pushed me off him. Caught me right in the chest."

Gene winced in sympathy.

"Elbow in the pillow eh? Nasty. Want me to take a look for you?" He added hopefully.

Alex drew her jacket around her. "No thanks." She retorted. "I'm fine."

Gene shrugged. "Suit yerself – was only trying to 'elp."

With that he thankfully turned his attention back to the road and they drove back into town in silence.

Pulling up outside Luigi's, Gene turned and studied Alex's face, noting the tired lines and the pain.

"Go and 'ave a lie down." He instructed gruffly. "Put some ice on yer . . . . yer . . . ." Unable to think of a polite word he gestured vaguely in the direction of her chest, his gaze falling to her cleavage and then sliding quickly away.

Alex choked back a giggle.

"Gene Hunt! Are you embarrassed?"

His eyes snapped back to hers but he said nothing.

"You can say it, you know." She taunted him. "It's called a breast."

Gene's cheeks flushed pink as Alex gurgled with mirth.

"And it's topped by a nipple." She added mercilessly.

The pink tinge spread to Gene's ears and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Revving the engine to try and hide his discomfort, Gene turned back to Alex.

"I meant it you know." He said. "You need to get a refresher in restraint and arrest techniques. You're a liability out there at the moment."

Alex sniffed disdainfully. "He got lucky, that's all." She said. "I think you'll find I can hold my own in most situations."

"Is that so?" Gene looked at her from under his impossibly long eyelashes. "I don't think I believe you, Bols. What if the bloke 'gets lucky' next time?"

"The next time a man 'gets lucky' with me, Gene, I'll be sure and let you know." Alex threw her parting shot over her shoulder as she began to make her way down the steps to the restaurant.

Gene watched her pert bottom sashay down the stairs. "Oh, I don't think I'll need you to tell me, Bolly." He muttered to himself and drove off, whistling tunelessly between his teeth as a plan hatched itself in his mind.

--o0o--

For the next fortnight, nothing more was said on the matter. The routine of life in CID continued. Shaz, after a lot of persuading, got Alex to show her the bruise on her chest and reported solemnly to Chris on the many interesting colours of Alex's skin. Gene overheard but said nothing, merely watching Alex through the windows of his office and noting with satisfaction that each day she moved less carefully as her bruises healed.

No-one said anything to Alex about her gaffe, not even Ray when he triumphantly marched Ayres into the cells a week later with a cheerful "Got the bastard, Ma'am." And if Viv later noticed a very large, very painful looking bruise suddenly appearing on the suspect's chest just after DCI Hunt and DS Carling had been questioning him, well, nothing was noted in the custody record because it must have happened prior to his arrest - mustn't it?

All in all, Alex was feeling good about life as she stood at her door on Friday night, fishing for her keys in her handbag.

Her head was buzzing pleasantly after putting away a couple of bottles of wine with the boys and girl and, when Gene had announced he was leaving, she took his advice for once and made her way upstairs – alone – to go to bed.

Finally snagging her keys, she hummed softly to herself as she opened the door and stepped inside. Her hand reached out for the light switch but, before it got there, her arm was taken in a vice-like grip. Before she could cry out, her body was spun and she was pressed face first up against the door, her arm twisted up painfully behind her back.

Panic swept over her and she tried to lash out backwards with her free arm, which was caught and held easily. A large, warm body pressed up against her back, holding her firmly to the door while her arms were pulled together behind her back. There was a chinking sound and a cold, metal bracelet snapped around her wrists.

"Please," she whimpered, "please don't hurt me."

Hot breath panted across the back of her neck as a familiar voice growled in her ear.

"I won't. Not unless you ask me very nicely, Bolly."

The lights flared on and she was spun around to find herself gazing straight in the amused blue eyes of Gene Hunt.

--o0o--

TBC