DISCLAIMER: I do not own Ashes to Ashes or the characters featured in said programme. Although, I wish I did, because that would be epic.

Hello again, everyone! Here is another new story I've decided to churn out for you all. I am so sorry for the lack of action from me lately – school certainly seems to be taking its toll! Chapter 13 of Modern Love is up as well – go and have a look, it's been an awfully long time I updated it so I hope you enjoy it!

I know I have a couple of fics on the go at the moment, but this one and A New 'Bran' Of Love are only one/two shots, so hopefully I'll finish them and get even more new stuff up for you!

Anyway, onto the present story. This fic is influenced by a not-so-recent trip of mine to Center Parcs, and I thought it might make some nice reading. It will remain T for now, but, as expected, I'm pretty sure I can guarantee that later there will be some serious M-lovin'!

I hope you enjoy it! :)

Miss LP x

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Life is Suite

'D.I Drake! My office, now. Mush!'

The flash of a black coat, the gleam of a blonde mane of hair and the swift stride of D.C.I Gene Hunt swept across the floor of the C.I.D office. The determined look etched into the slightly frowned arch of his eyebrows and the customary pout of his lips signalled that there was something going on. For Alex Drake, this meant business.

Getting up from her perfectly organised desk, she followed Gene into the office, shutting the door behind her to block the stares of the rest of the office.

'Guv?'

Gene sat himself down in his chair, elevating his legs to rest on the haphazardly arranged desk; his heavy, crocodile-skinned boots rested on a small stack of case files carelessly as he helped himself to a generous measure of scotch.

'Righ', Bolly Kecks. 'Ere's the deal. After the cock up with Derry an' the Dingbats last week, i' seems tha' we 'ave a couple o' shooters on our patch.'

Gene wasn't one to beat around the bush. His eyes flickered up to meet hers as her stomach twisted nervously. She had messed up big time in this case - she had disappointed Gene; and she damn well knew it.

'I'm sorry about Derry, he seemed like a reliable informant-'

'Bu' evidently he wasn't, Bolls. Don' bea' yerself up abou' i' much, 'appens ter the best o' us.'

He nonchalantly pushed a glass of amber liquid in her direction, which she greatly received. The warm, fiery burn of the scotch trickled down her throat as Gene began to speak once more.

'Anyway, gives us an excuse ter ge' away from the Circus o' Idiotic Dickheads.'

Alex looked up from her glass curiously, her eyes meeting the piercing gaze of Gene's. The bright blue sapphire sparkle that glinted mischievously seemed to indicate the cogs of his mind were whirring.

'I don't understand, Guv.' Alex gently placed her glass down on his desk and walked around to where Gene was sitting, settling herself on the edge of the desk in order to face him. She looked to where Gene's hands were now moving; a map was being unfolded and a pen being picked up.

'Derry was more reliable than yer think, Bolly. He left us this.' Gene fished out a small piece of paper from his jacket pocket and handed it to Alex.

'An address?'

'Spot on, Bolly. Knew yer'd be a good detective.' Gene smirked as his eyes returned to the map, circling Adlington.

'Adlington? That's in Lancashire!'

'Wow, yer on fire today, Lady B.'

Alex looked back at the map. 'So, Derry has given us a lead, you reckon?'

'Christ, Bolly, yer've never asked such stupid questions. What d'yer think?'

Alex nodded in resignation. 'Yeah, of course. Sorry. I'm just a bit...you know, wary, after Derry's runner. I'm questioning the reliability of it, that's all.'

Gene sniffed. 'Fair's fair, Bols. Anyway, Super's given us the go-ahead.'

'Go-ahead?' Alex looked at him curiously, her mind frantically buzzing at the possibilities.

'Yep. We're goin' ter Lancashire. In about...' Gene glanced at the clock on the wall. '...an hour.'

Alex froze, her eyes wide. 'Fuck! I need to pack, Gene! Where are we going, exactly? I mean, Adlington is big enough as it is, and what do I need to pack? For goodness' sake, you could have told me sooner, I'd be better prepared-'

'Will yer shut up!' Gene stood up from his desk and approached Alex, his looming presence silencing her in her jumble of frantic questions. 'We're goin' ter the Adlington Lodge Park for four days. I've already booked i'. Single bedroom, full facilities available – I know 'ow luxurious you are, Bolly, bu' it's all ter stop suspicions. Yer'll be needin' several sets of clothes that yer willin' ter get a bit dirty...' He raised his eyebrows mischievously – 'an' somethin' fer swimmin'. Oh, an' somethin' skimpy. Just fer the enjoyment of moi.'

Gene gave a brief grin before walking swiftly out of the door to his office. 'Pick you up an hour, Bols!'

Alex remained rooted to the spot in his office. They were going on holiday. Together. Alone.

Shit.

-0-0-0-0-0-

After manically tearing around the flat, gathering as many items of clothing as possible and shoving them messily into a suitcase, Gene had picked her up at around three o'clock. In any normal driver's car, Alex imagined that they would have arrived in Adlington Lodge Park at about seven. However, due to the combination of Gene's deathly driving, the roaring engine of the Quattro and the sneaky tactic of sticking on the sirens and the 'blues and twos', they managed to arrive in under three hours. They drove through the entrance to the ticket barrier, where they were met by a warm, friendly old lady.

'Arigh', loves. Can ah 'ave yer tickets, please?'

Gene nodded and smiled, clearly appreciating the northern accent, and quickly extracted the tickets from his jacket pocket.

'Here yer are, love.' He handed them over, allowing the woman to browse them quickly.

'Ta muchly, love. Righ', Mr. and Mrs. 'Unt, just follow the signs to the main crossroads, and yer ticket tells yer which lodge yer stayin' in. The signs are posted with the numbers, I'm pretty sure yr can cope, loves.'

'Thank you.' Alex smiled as Gene shut the window. Once out of the sight range of the old lady, Alex turned to Gene. 'Mr. and Mrs. bloody Hunt?'

'Like I said, Bols. Doesn't raise suspicions.' Gene smirked and raised his eyebrows; Alex merely sighed with indignation.

Once they had found their lodge and parked the Quattro, Alex began to haul in her several bags of luggage.

'Christ, Bols, we're only 'ere fer four days! Wha' did yer think we were doin', providin' clothes fer the 'ole of Africa?'

Alex glared at him. 'Well, at least I'll be comfortable and not have to worry about running out of clothes.' She looked down to the floor, looking disapprovingly at the tiny holdall Gene had brought. 'Have you even packed any clothes?' She dropped her suitcases and casually picked up Gene's bag, surprised at the shocking lightness. She sighed again, and threw the bag at him.

'Oi! Breakables!'

'Your balls will be breakables in a minute.' She turned to pick up her bags, and, attempting to look sexy, strong and casual whilst trying to cover the struggle she was experiencing carrying the heavy suitcases, walked defiantly through the door of their lodge. The curtains had been closed, shrouding the central room in darkness. Alex hurried through the bedroom – the only bedroom – and placed her bags on the right hand side of the bed. I'll unpack later. She paused, looking at the king sized bed, covered in a throw, a thick quilt, and an array of cushion. Her nerves wavered as she thought of sleeping with Gene. She smiled, catching herself before her daydreams flooded her mind with risque thoughts. She rephrased it in her head. Sleeping next to Gene. Anyway, if necessary, she was sure there was a perfectly functioning sofa.

She returned into the central room and hurried over to the curtains. With an elaborate sweep, she threw them open, allowing the light to flood the room. She smiled as she took in the surprising elegance of the lodge.

Pine surfaces lined the kitchen and the protruding breakfast bar, complimenting the warm magnolia walls surrounding the room. The living room contained two large, chocolate brown leather sofas that framed the central glass coffee table and cream rug. A grand fireplace stood opposite the sofas. Alex smiled as she associated the décor with her modern home in 2008.

Gene strode in majestically, breaking Alex's train of thought. He looked around, the pout on his mouth straightening as he approved the comfort of the lodge.

'Nice. Despite the fact that 'alf the bloody forest is on the kitchen counter.'

Alex smiled to herself as Gene went into the bedroom to quickly unpack his bag. On his return, Alex had started to write a shopping list.

'Bols, wha' the bloody 'ell are yer doin'?'

'Making a list of all the essential items we need. There's a shop just around the corner, in the-'

'Righ'. Well, while you piss about with women's bollocks an' yer kitchen of essentials, I'll be doin' the more important work in tryin' ter find those twattin' shooters!'

Alex looked up from her list. 'What, you mean they're actually here, in the complex?'

'Yep. Derry said so on his bi' o' paper.' Gene fished it out of his pocket once again and handed it to Alex. Seeing the address of the Adlington Park Lodge scrawled on one side, she flipped it over to find a similar scrawl.

'Swimming, archery, quadbikes...' she murmured to herself. Her eyes widened in realisation. 'Hang on, they're doing the activities here?'

'Seems like they wan' a bi' of an 'oliday, Bolly. And we're gon'ta join 'em.'

Alex gasped in shock. 'We're not.'

'We are.' Gene smirked triumphantly. 'Fire up the quad bikes, Bolly!'

TBC...! I know it's short, and I know not much happens, but consider this an introduction :P