A/n: This is the point where I have loads of stories on the go because inspiration has kicked in and my muse is drinking too much nectar. Hope this will make sense and hope everyone likes what I'm trying to do, sorry the epilogue is so short but just wanted to set the scene. I can totally see Gene in the future but how would he cope, this is what I'm going to try and discover. Please feel free to read and review.

Disclaimer: Don't own anyone or anything, unfortunately, but hey ho!

Chapter 1 - Prologue

The shot had landed in his leg as he plummeted to the floor, the sawn off shotgun falling out of reach of his hands. He could hear the screams and shouts of Annie, Chris and Ray as they were fired upon. He turned onto his back watching as the gang leader took off the balaclava and fired the gun, the shot landing in his chest. He'd been lucky before but he was buggered if he was going to be as lucky again, this had been the only occasion he hadn't carried any of his trusty hip flasks. Another shot impaled itself into his flesh doing untold damage to his insides as the world around him seemed to fade into nothingness, it had been a damn good show while it had lasted and now it was done. DCI Gene Hunt was no more, his life had ended, or had it …

.oOo.

The feeling of a pin prick pain awoke his senses as he slowly began to open his eyes to an alien world. He could hear the faint beeping of machines arousing him and the sensation of touch evident upon his right hand and arm suggesting to him that he wasn't dead after all but somewhere else. He searched the space he was lying in, his faint blue eyes taking in the décor, the machinery, the people ascertaining with his policeman's nouse that he was no longer in 1973.

"Welcome back, Mr Hunt," an unfamiliar man with an unfamiliar voice said, "we were afraid we were going to lose you for a while there, but I knew that if we could stop the bleeding then our chances of success would be good. I'll leave you with your friends then, if you need to ask questions when you're feeling a little better then feel free to get one of the nurses to find me." He watched the man back out of the room before turning his attention to the other occupants.

"Tyler? Skelton?" He croaked out, his voice barely registering above a whisper.

"Yes, sir?" Chris Skelton managed before being overwhelmed by a rush of emotions and having to leave the room.

Gene watched him disappear, "how long, Tyler?"

"You've been in a coma for 4 months, sir. I'm sure you'll be pleased to know that the drunk driver that ran headlong into your car has been caught and will be brought up before the judge in the next few weeks."

"Am I ok?"

Tyler nodded, "you're fine, lucky bastard, no one else I know would have been as lucky as you. No broken bones or anything, just the internal bleeding in your brain that caused you to be out of it for a while. Gene, it's good to have you back!"

"Good to be back, Sam, I think. When is back, by the way?"

"It's August 7th, 2005! When did you think it was?"

"Don't know really; seem to have spent some time in 1973 though. Very fetchin' I was too, in me camel coat, cream loafers, wide ties and flares. Me hair was a bit of a mess though!"

Sam laughed, "tell me about it later. I've got to go and sort out a few new staff this afternoon, three new female officers. The first is Annie Cartwright, remember her, she's transferring over from uniform; then I've got two transferring up from the Met, PC Sharon Granger who's joining us as support and DI Alex Drake a psychologist. Be able to help you out, maybe; as part of her job she's profiling officers that have gone through traumatic situations, when she finds out you're out of your coma I should imagine you'd be on the top of her 'most wanted' list!"

"Great!" Gene's sarcasm was evident. "Where's Ray?"

"Probably chatting up a nurse, I shouldn't wonder."

Gene smiled, "yeah, no difference there then!"

Sam shook his head, "I'll come and pick you up when they're ready to discharge you. Then we can have a drink, eh?"

Gene nodded, that would be good. "See you soon, Sam. An' tell 'em pair of plonkers to go 'ome, don't want 'em hangin' 'bout, rather just recuperate in peace!"

"Ok, sir! See you!"

"Bye Sam!" So he was in 2005, back in 2005. Strange he couldn't ever remember being there, "Sam?"

"Yes, sir?"

"When's me birthday?"

"27th March 1963, why?"

"No reason. Can you do me a favour?" Sam nodded, "Can you brin' me file in!"

"No problem, sir. I'll bring it in later. Bye!"

Gene would've been 10 in 1973, no point speculating without seeing his records, he'd wait and then if he had to see this woman, this DI Drake then maybe she could tell him if he was going mad or not. "2005" he said, mulling the year over, his usual pout evident, "what do you 'ave in store for me?"