Feel free to comment. If you find fault with this fic and feel the need to criticize it, try to be constructive.

This fic is in no way a sequel to my first fic (night before christmas), despite its similarities.

With thanks to ashgurl2897 for beta-ing this fic. And more thans from RusholmeRuffian for finding more fault, and correcting it once more.

Disclaimer: I in no way whatsover own Ashes to Ashes. Rights belong to Kudos, the BBC etc etc.

Chapter 1

Several weeks after the Price's death, Bonfire Night was approaching. And once again, Alex and her DCI were in the arguing.

"You can't just go around arresting anybody Guv. We need to do a thorough investigation, it takes time. We can't just pull in anyone who happens to be holding a sparkler. You can be impossible Gene Hunt!"

"Time Bolly, I haven't got. Not to listen to you, rambling on till the end of time about how yer always right and that yer Psychiatry beats my instincts."

"PSYCHOLOGY!!" Alex was practically screaming at him now, her face was livid.

"SAME BLOODY THING!" He said, matching her tone. "And speaking of time - Beer o'clock gentleman".

The office came to life, the lads put their jackets on and hurried out the door before anything kicked off between their DI and DCI.

"And just where do you think you're going?" Alex was starting to get extremely angry, her temper rising.

"Pub Bolls. Now get yer coat, yer buyin' me a drink" Gene said as he strode out of the station, abuse being hauled at him by his DI, refusing to go with him.

Once the team got back from Luigi's, Alex was nowhere to be found, Gene's Quattro was also missing. Stunned, Gene Hunt strode out of his office and over to Viv.

"Skip, you were here all dinner, tell me where Drake has gone. Now! Nobody steals my motor!" Filled with fury, Gene stormed back over to Luigi's and climbed the stairs, two at a time, to Alex's flat.

"Drake, get out here, NOW! What the hell did you think you were playin' at stealin' my motor? DRAKE! Open UP" feeling his blood rising, he burst the door down, only to be faced with an empty flat.

For four hours he searched for Alex and then finally gave in. He sat in his office and took out his whiskey. What gave her the right to steal my bloody car? Just because she's down right gorgeous, she thought she had everyone under her thumb, well not me. Not the Gene Genie. I'm not going to let some posh mouthy tart tarnish my reputation. As soon as the liquid hit the glass, in she strolled, sitting by her desk like nothing had happened.

"And where the hell have you been?" Gene stood, leaning in the doorframe of his office. All eyes were on Alex.

"Out." She said so matter of fact. Alex loved Gene angry, it was the way his eyes burned into hers. It was her way of winning. Gene hated this about Alex, she was always so sure of herself, but at the same time, he thought confidence was attractive in a woman. "There's the files you were after." She said, strolling past him and into his office. Turning, Gene glared at her and stepped away from his doorframe, moving further into his office. The nerve of her!

"Drake you must remember that I am your DCI, and you don't move that little arse of yours unless I tell you otherwise, you hear me?"

"Well this little arse just so happens to have landed three men in the cells for those fireworks, and it's this little arse that just saved yours from the Super, now stop moaning and pour me one of those" she said nodding over to the whiskey. Both angry and relieved, he poured her a drink. What else could he do? Arguing with her was getting him nowhere. Alex finished her glass of whiskey in one long large sip, enjoying the burning sensation travelling through her chest. Throwing Gene a smile, she slowly pushed past him and left his office.

For the rest of the afternoon Gene watched Alex as she sat reading through statements from witnesses from the firework attacks. Even though she drove him mad, he just couldn't seem to take his eyes away from her as she sat there scribbling away. How does she do it? She stopped, and looked up, deep in thought as she rested her hand on her cheek. Gene was mesmerised and captivated by her presence. How he wanted Alex, and for so long he was unable to tell her, not sure how she felt about him. He would push his thoughts to the back of his head for now, waiting for the right moment. Afterall, in this life it was all about timing; saying the right thing in the right way at the right time was crucial when dealing with Alex. If the timing was right, then the moment would be right - but that was proving tricky. He was never able to get her alone, even at Luigi's there was someone listening. And on the rare occassion that they were, it would result in an argument. On their date they seemed to have got on, but he never had either the courage or the time to ask her again. It was a lose lose situation.

Thinking back through the day's events, he looked for clues that she felt the same, but all that had happened that day was arguments as per usual. But it didn't matter how many shouting matches they had, he would still flirt with her in Luigi's - it was part of the fun. Even though they argued, he seemed to enjoy winding her up, watching as her blood pressure rose. And when Alex was angry, he felt most attracted to her, wanting her even more. That fiery tempered, posh mouth tart indeed gave him 'the horn'. He couldn't stay mad at her, because he knew she was right. She was always right. And the most frustrating part was, she knew it too.

It was dark outside, their shift was over, and everyone began to leave to go home. Alex was still sat in her chair at her desk while Gene sat in his office. She was trying to look busy reading files but found herself distracted by the thoughts of her DCI. Although they argued, she still seemed to enjoy his company, which she really couldn't explain. He made her furious and shake with anger, and yet still would end up drinking with him in Luigi's night after night endlessly flirting with him. No matter how much psychological experience she had, Gene Hunt still baffled her, she was clueless, he was a true enigma. He was unpredictable but surely if he was a construct, she would know his every move. So that could only mean he was real, either that or her subconscious was playing nasty little tricks on her. But there was only one way to find out.