I haven't written any fanfiction in a while, but since the new series of Ashes is on, I thought I do one to coincide! Set immediately after the events of Series 3 Episode 5, after that chilling Yazoo "Only You" Scene where Alex goes off with Keats. I don't dislike Keats, but he is a dark character. This isn't a very dark friendly piece!

It has a generous helping of Galex too, for all you Galexites (like me). :) I hope you all like it and apologies for any spelling mistakes; I did beta it but I just hope I didn't miss any! Happy reading and reviews would be lovely too!

L A N C E L O T

An Ashes to Ashes Oneshot

A small heater breathed a fiery breeze out into Keats's office, a thin film of sweat apparent now on Alex's brow as she shifted uncomfortably in her seat, hoping to evade the humidity that was circulating in the tiny room. Keats was trying to move half a dozen bicycles out of the way of his filing cabinet, their bells ringing and clanging as he threw them aside in frustration.

Alex knew she shouldn't have left with Keats this evening. She felt now, as she sat in this awkward silence, that her leaving showed a dark longing sense of disloyalty to the team and Hunt in particular.

"Would you like to talk, Alex?"

She didn't really want to talk to Keats if she was honest. She'd felt Gene's poisonous glare burn like two heated pinpricks in the back of her neck as she walked away, brushing past Keats, absorbing the warm smell of his aftershave as he held the door of CID open for her as she turned her back on the team. She told herself not to look back as she left, but with instinct her eyes managed to catch a glimpse of Hunt, swigging from his glass of scotch, his eyes glazed with a certain edge of sadness, just before the door swung shut.

Alex brought her hand to her head and mopped the slick of sweat from her forehead. She was wearing a thin blouse, but even that didn't keep her cool; the chiffon material was clinging to her back and shoulders.

"You're an interesting character, Alex." Keats spoke and Alex realised he was now sitting over the other side of the desk, eyes framed by huge spectacles as he smiled sweetly at her. He was dressed in a full suit, his tie tight around his collar; not a bead of sweat apparent on him.

"Interesting?" Alex leant forward, swaying slightly as a drip of salty sweat blinded her for a moment.

"I feel I have a lot in common with you." Keats whispered, his teeth scraping over his bottom lip briefly before he pulled his chair closer to Alex.

"How did you know Sam Tyler, Alex?" Keats let his last comment hang and intercepted Alex's thought with a question, his fingers interlocking on the desk as he awaited her answer.

"I wouldn't say I knew him. I knew of him." Alex answered, a creeping flush running up the nape of her neck.

"What has made you so interested in him, then? What did you know about him that's made you so interested in him now?"

"We obviously have Gene Hunt in common." Alex clarified, unpeeling her shirt from her skin.

"Oh yes, that you do." Keats spoke with a certain amount of sarcasm, his lips curling into a smug smile, "Only thing is, Alex, many of the people who have Gene Hunt in common don't necessarily meet their end in a cosy bungalow on the South coast, if you catch my drift."

Keats produced a photocopied picture from his pocket; the same grainy image of Sam Tyler's upturned car which she'd found a few weeks ago in the Manchester file.

"Are you trying to scare me?" Alex's lips pursed into a small pout and she let her eyes flick up towards him, awaiting his response.

"Warn you." He corrected, "I think you're a clever girl. You're not scared, you're dubious and that's the right way to be. Be careful. We wouldn't want you winding up on the wrong end of a car accident, would we?"

James Keats stared back at her, the edges of his mouth twitching ever so slightly, as though his muscles wanted to smile at her. There was a pause, and Alex pushed the photocopied picture back across the desk, her eye contact with Keats not breaking even for the splittest of seconds.

"I'd like to leave now, DCI Keats." She spat his name from her mouth and stood, turning on her heel towards the door.

When Alex looked up, she saw Keats was already at the door, his hand bolting the lock and his other hand turning a key. How he had managed to get to the door before her she'll never know, however more important issues seemed to be arising.

"I said I want to leave." She told him, her hand darting towards the pocket which he had dropped the key. His reflexes, however, were far too good and he caught a hold of her wrist, pushing her body against the door. His own body, ice cold was pressed against hers as he pinned both her hands against the door, his mouth finding the curve of her damp collar bone. He let his mouth rest beside the shell of her ear.
"We're the same, you and me, Inspector." He whispered, grunting as she thrust against him, desperate for him to release her.

"I don't know why you won't let me help you." Keats looked positively deranged; his eyes were glossy and his voice cracked and broke as though he were about to cry. He pressed his body harder against hers and sighed,

"I can help you. Together we can defeat Gene Hunt…"

"Somebody help!" Alex shouted as loud as her lungs would let her, then let out chilling scream so loud she almost burst her own eardrums. Keats, in a panic to hush her, pushed his mouth against hers, kissing her until all that could be heard was her muffled screams as she objected into his mouth.

Alex felt a single tear slide down her face as she writhed against him. Please stop, she pleaded silently with him. He turned Alex in one swift movement so her cheek was pressed against the door, his front pressed firmly against her back.

"I'm not a bad person, Alex." He cried, "I just know there's something about you that's different. And I'm different too…" He'd stopped kissing her and now just held her in a vice as he spoke.

"So you're going to rape me? Then I'll never listen to you. Nobody ever will because nobody wants to listen to what a rapist wants to say." Alex was struggling to make a sentence but she was trawling through the psychological compartment of her brain in order to use various tactics in order for him to free her.

"I wouldn't do that, Alex." He cried, "I just want to know what you're hiding? What are you thinking?"

"Please let me go." Alex whimpered, trying in vain to release her wrists from his icy grip.

"We could do something good together. Rid this world of a parasite like Gene Hunt."

"Why him? Why Gene Hunt?" she breathed heavily, squirming as tears stained her cheeks.

"Because he's a…"

"Keats, you pencil necked bastard!" Gene slurred drunkenly from the other side of the office door, then punctuated his cry with a few rough bangs on it once he noticed it was locked, "Open up!"

Alex felt Keats freeze momentarily, then, just as she was about to call out, he snapped his hand over her mouth, pulling her to the other side of his desk.

"What do you want, Hunt?" Keats enquired simply, as though Gene had just interrupted some important note-taking.

"A word. Now open the sodding door."

"I'm a bit busy at the moment, can't we make it tomorrow?" Keats asked, quietly hushing Alex who was trying to scream into his palm as she fought against him.

"What did you say to Drake?" Hunt barked, his fist slamming against the door.

"That's a confidential matter, DCI Hunt."

"Is she still in there?"

"No, she left about five minutes ago." Keats lied as Alex wriggled in his grasp, "Why don't you go and find her. I'm sure as your loyal subordinate she'll tell you everything. That is, unless, she's a clever girl, which I think she is."

Jim pulled Alex's head up so she he could look her in the eye, then let her head rest against his chest when he heard Gene's footsteps begin to leave. Alex moved her head in Keats's hand,

"I'll help you." She whispered through his palm, breathing heavily, "We'll take him down. I'll do it."

Keats sighed and let out a relieved laugh as he let his hand rest below her mouth on her chin. His other hands loosened her wrists and he let his palm slide smoothly down her body, over her chest to rest on her stomach, pulling her close as though she were his newest partner.

"We can do it, Alex."

She felt his hand slide off her mouth and used this opportunity to bite down on his thumb until she tasted the warm, metallic hint of blood creep across her tongue. Keats cried and pulled his bleeding hand away, releasing Alex from his grip. Swiftly, she turned and delivered him a smooth kick to the groin, causing him to crash back across the table.

"Gene!" Alex ran to the door and hammered repeatedly on it, screaming and calling his name hoping he could hear her.

"Bolly?" she heard him call her back, the loud crash of his footsteps approaching, "Bolls!"

"Help me, Guv, please." She pleaded, screaming as Keats caught her around the middle, trying to pull her away from the door.

"You lied to me, Alex." Keats snarled into her hair, "Nobody lies to Jim Keats."

Gene was beginning to pound on the door, the wood cracking at its hinges as he put all his strength into breaking it down. One kick from Gene Hunt's cowboy boots and it was open; the cold air in contrast to the desert temperature of Keats's office was a blessed relief for Alex's damp skin.

Hunt stood in the doorway, his mouth sucking on a cigarette as his left hand held a small hipflask. Alex could tell by the way he swayed that he was drunk, but she didn't care. His eyes caught the entanglement of Keats and Alex, and the irises of his blue eyes darkened as a cloud of red mist fizzed about before him.

"Keats, let her go." He said simply, approaching slowly, his hand reaching inside his jacket for a firearm.

"What are you gonna do, Hunt? Shoot me?" Keats spat, "Wouldn't be the first time you've pulled the trigger on a fellow officer…"

"Let her go, you bastard!"

"Quite fond of doing that aren't you?" Keats breathed, "You're just scared I'm going to tell her the truth…"

Alex screamed as Hunt fired, a bullet catching Keats across the shoulder. In a flash Alex was free and she ran towards Gene just before Jim Keats fell to the ground screaming as he peeled off his clothing, trying to inspect the damage.

"Oh you've made a mistake, Hunt." Keats cried through gritted teeth.

"Viv! Call the bastard an ambulance and get the Superintendant down here pronto." Gene barked, delivering Keats a delightful kick for good measure. Kneeling down, Gene pulled the acting DCI closer by the collar and whispered through whiskey stained breath,
"You see, Jimbo, good always triumphs. And stop crying, you look like a nancy."

Alex stirred her cup of tea and pulled her thick cardigan further around her body. It was eleven. She fell into the soft cushioning of her sofa and tried to close her eyes, interrupted almost instantly by the banging on her front door.

"Bolly? Bolly, it's me, Sir Lancelot."

He stood, bold as brass, his tie loosened around his neck, leaning against her doorframe. In his hand he held a bottle of wine which he handed to her as she opened the door.

"You alright, Bolls?"

"Fine, if not a little bruised."

"Bastard. Knew he was trouble the moment I clapped eyes on him." Gene pouted a bit, shifting embarrassedly, "What did you say to the Super?"

"I said I thought he was going to rape me. I said you shot him to save me." She said slowly, "The truth."

"Thanks. I could do without another bloody enquiry into my trigger happiness, Drakey."

Alex smiled and looked down, "Thank you for the wine."

"My pleasure." He looked at the floor awkwardly, "I'll be off then; you need a decent kip after today."

A pause.

"Gene." Alex peeked up from beneath her long eyelashes, and reached out to touch his lapel, "Thank you." Without another word she stood on her toes and pulled him into a kiss. He wound his arm around her back and pushed her against the doorframe, savouring her taste and the feel of her body against his. She coiled her leg around his and let her hand run through his hair. When they broke apart, Gene's mouth was still parted, his hair ruffled adorably as he tried to make sense of what just happened.

"As I said; you're welcome, Alex."

"Drop by tomorrow, maybe?" Alex mentioned, "You can help me finished this wine."

He pouted and nodded; a small smile hiding behind his pursed lips. He spun on his heel, leaving a musky scent of Brut and scotch in his wake as he left his D.I light and quivering at her door, her hand touching her mouth, begging for tomorrow to come quicker.

~FIN~