A/N: This is the sequel to "Strung Out in Heaven's High" and takes place the next day. Probably best to read that one first if you haven't already : ) adult content warning and perhaps more shockingly, some actual plot. LOL!
The 'slow glass' mentioned refers to a fictional material in a short story by Bob Shaw called 'Light of Other Days' – through which light passes so slowly that one can see a scene from very far away or a long time ago. Bit of a geeky in-reference but it's quite important in conveying the feeling Alex has as she sees herself in her own constructed world. Anyhoo…
Huge thanks to Quattro Kez for beta duties on this one and being a paragon of punctuation! XX dedicated to the 'Housewives and the bar crowd at Luigi's. Thanks for reading!
The sound of traffic and passing trains outside stirred Gene Hunt from his sleep. He slowly and gingerly opened one eye, feeling the effects of several whiskys from the night before. Groaning as the sunlight burned his retina, he quickly shut his eye again and rolled over onto his back, unconsciously lowering his hand between his legs as he did every morning. He was alarmed to find he had no boxer shorts on. He was doubly alarmed to realise that the bed was extremely hard and uncomfortable. This was due largely, he supposed in the very next second, to the fact that it wasn't a bed at all but the floor.
"Flamin' Nora," he muttered, trying to sit up. The blue woollen blanket fell from his body as he rubbed his eyes and coughed his smokers' cough.
He was alone, on the floor of the flat above Luigi's. Bolly's flat. The smoked-glass coffee table lay beside him, still on its side from when he had kicked it over.
Bolly! Suddenly, like a rush of cold water, the memories came back to him - last night he had danced with his DI in the restaurant downstairs, before he had swept her up in his arms, carried her into the flat and made passionate love to her right here on this very spot.
Where the hell was she then? A cursory glance at his watch made him groan again. 09:40. He was spectacularly late for work. Drake must have left already. He cursed her for not waking him but he couldn't stay annoyed at her for long. Flashing memories of her flitted into his mind: her breasts against his chest; her mouth on his; her brunette curls falling into his face as she swayed in his lap with his hands on her naked hips. In truth, he probably needed the extra sleep.
Realising this reminiscing was going to lead him nowhere, he slowly got to his feet. The blanket fell away to leave him totally naked. He picked up the coffee table, which now sat unevenly on the rug without its prop. Shivering slightly, he made his way to the bathroom and had a quick wash before retrieving last night's discarded clothing from its various positions around the floor. He dressed hurriedly and headed for the door.
In the bar downstairs, Luigi was setting up tables for the lunch service. He shot the DCI a knowing look as he strode towards the door, picking up car keys from the bar where he had left them the night before. "Good morning Romeo!" Luigi called after him, clearly amused and chuffed in equal measure that he'd finally got the two coppers together.
"Shut it!" Gene warned, slamming the door behind him. He crossed the road, walking past his red Audi Quattro and pausing briefly to take a deep lungful of the cool morning air. God knew what was awaiting him at the station.
In Fenchurch East police station, it was business as usual. Viv was manning the front desk, with a crossword half finished under the counter for the less busy moments. Inside CID, Chris and Ray were huddled round the kettle, mugs of sweet tea in hand, gossiping about their DI and the mysterious non-appearance of the Guv.
DI Drake had sauntered into work around 8:30 that morning, looking somehow different. The last few days she had been so uptight - ranting and raving about that car bomb, completely disrupting the Guv's inspection by the jowl-faced Scarman, and whisking Ray off to a gay pride demo. Today however, she seemed calm… radiant almost? She also had a determination about her, which worried Ray, as he was usually the one she picked on to accompany her on her less traditional lines of police enquiry. He wondered quite genuinely what she would be having him do next.
And what of the DCI? No-one had seen him that morning and he hadn't called in. In fact the last time they had seen him, he was slumped in a corner of Luigi's, clutching a heavy bottomed glass of scotch and muttering about Lord Scarman under his drunken breath.
Just then, Shaz came through the doors clutching a pile of police files. She popped her head round into the kitchenette. "Oh Chris! Can you make me a cuppa, sweetie?" She fluttered her eyelashes at her boyfriend. "I'm dying of thirst here!"
Ray snorted. "Nowt to do wi that bottle an' 'alf of Blue Nun you polished off last night by any chance?"
Shaz ignored him and walked straight over to Chris, whispering conspiratorially, "You'll never guess what I saw on the way to work this morning!"
Ray leant in to listen as Shaz went on to explain that she'd seen the Guv's car still parked opposite the restaurant as she had gone past Luigi's.
"Flamin 'eck! Do y'think e's passed out on the floor?" Chris frowned.
Ray and Shaz rolled their eyes. "God, you can be a right melon sometimes," Ray said. "It's obvious what's happened in't it?"
Chris looked confused.
Taking his hand, Shaz took on the tone of a mother speaking to a small child.
"The Guv must have stayed the night… you know… with her," nodding to the other office where Alex Drake was sitting with her head in her hands, examining a file.
"No way!" Chris exclaimed, wide-eyed.
"SShhh!!" Ray and Shaz flapped their hands at Chris. But they were too late. Alex had appeared at the kitchen door looking somewhat annoyed.
"What are you lot doing exactly?" she snapped. "Standing around gossiping like old ladies at a coffee morning that's what! Have you nothing more productive to do?" Immediately, the three dispersed and wandered sheepishly back to their desks.
Alex smiled to herself. Nothing was going to put her in a bad mood today. Not after last night's little adventure anyway. She leaned against the door frame and sighed. Visions of Gene came to her: his hand taking hers as they danced, pulling her close to him; feeling him growing hard as they stood in her apartment kissing and undressing one another; his strong embrace as he pinned her to the floor and moved inside her…
She was snapped out of this little reverie by the outer office door slamming. Moments later the DCI's own office door did the same. Alex slunk round the corner and made her way to her own desk, glancing casually through the half-open blinds of the Manc Lion's den as she passed.
Gene took off his coat and threw it over the filing cabinet before settling down in his chair and having a look at the memos and mail left on his desk. He was trying hard not to look up through the blinds towards Alex's desk. His eyes flicked up for a minute but thankfully her head was down and she didn't see. This could be very awkward, he thought to himself. He certainly knew that he didn't want Ray and the others knowing what had transpired the previous evening and he felt pretty sure Bolly would feel the same. He couldn't even begin to think how he was going to approach her. He was determined that last night would not be reduced to a drunken one-off but he had no idea how Alex felt about it.
Turning his attention back to the pile of memos in front of him, a plain brown envelope addressed to "The Hunter" caught his eye. Frowning, he opened it carefully, intending to send it to forensics later for examination. Inside was a photocopy of a roughly sketched building layout, with an attached note that merely read,
'IS THIS WHAT YOU WERE LOOKING FOR?'
Snatching up the note, Gene walked through to the outer office and called everyone round. "Right ladies," he said to the assembled officers, "it seems someone is trying to tell us something. The question is … 'oo?"
He glanced round at the vacant expressions of Chris, Ray and the others, realising straight away that someone was missing.
"Ahem." He fake-coughed in Alex's direction, where she was still sitting at her desk with a faraway look in her eyes. "Were you thinking of joining us sometime today?"
"Uh, what, um… yes, yes just um… er… coming." Alex got to her feet and came rushing over without looking at the DCI. She was flushed and clearly embarrassed, like a guilty teenager.
Hmm. Wonder what she was thinking about? Gene thought, hoping, naturally, that it was him.
CID pored over the mysterious picture and the anonymous note. Suddenly Ray jabbed his finger at the picture. "I know where that is Guv," he said excitedly. "This time last year, one of our first cases down here… Remember?"
"Refresh my memory," Gene said impatiently.
"It was the envelope that reminded me – 'The Hunter'," Ray went on.
"Uh huh…?" Hunt was frowning, his patience with his rather obtuse DS now wearing somewhat thin.
"Well, that were what 'e called yer, weren't it. Bastard. 'E went down though, you saw t' that." Ray chuckled and took another drag on his cigarette.
Alex glanced over at the DCI. His face was turning red and she could tell he was about to tear a strip off Ray. Seizing an opportunity to diffuse the situation, she butted in.
"How about for my benefit, Ray, you start at the beginning, hmm? Since I wasn't here and all?" She smiled benignly at him.
Everyone else around the table breathed a huge sigh of relief as Ray went on to describe the case. The disappearance of the site foreman on a building project over in Aldgate: the insurance scam and back-handers and the subsequent incarceration of one of the major investors. It was a clear-cut case, except that they had never found the body of the foreman. Well, not all of it anyway.
"So why the 'ell is 'e sending me cryptic messages now?" Gene asked.
"Well," Alex stated, "there's only way place we'll get the answer, isn't there?"
"Right, let's fire up the Quattro!" Hunt grabbed his leather gloves and his coat, striding out of the office, closely followed by Alex and Ray, with Chris bringing up the rear.
The Quattro screeched to a halt, narrowly missing a wheelie bin and just about causing the dustman a coronary. Alex - who had spent the entire journey gazing out of the window so that her eyes wouldn't meet the Guv's - pursed her lips, holding back a stinging comment about his cavalier manner behind the wheel. He sensed she had something to say however, and swung round in his seat to face her as he turned the engine off. "Yes Bolly?" His face was set in a frown.
Hazel eyes met blue as she glared back at him. "One of these days…" she began, intending to berate him for almost running over a pedestrian, "you'll… you'll…" She jutted her chin out. She was determined not to betray her feelings.
Gene raised his eyebrows. He was amused and inflamed by his DI's inability to finish this sentence, knowing that she was almost certainly feeling the electricity between them, as was he. "I'll what?" he forced out, trying desperately not to laugh, or worse, launch himself at her and kiss her right there and then.
In the back seat, Ray shot a sideways glance at Chris, who was wearing an expression of utter bemusement. The DS shook his head and rolled his eyes, reaching in his pocket for his fags as the staring competition continued in the front of the car.
Finally, Alex closed her eyes and let out a long sigh. "Nothing," she breathed, slipping off her seatbelt and opening the car door. This was torture. Once or twice on the journey, Gene's hand had brushed against her leg as he changed gears, sending shooting stars through her skin and causing no end of trouble in her knickers. He knew it too, she was sure of that.
Hunt slammed the door of the Quattro with a glint in his eye. The four officers looked around the building site, not entirely sure what it was they were trying to find. Chris and Ray strolled over to the half-finished flat block, Ray still muttering something under his breath about 'bloody women'. Gene looked round to catch sight of Alex's denim clad arse wiggling its way over to an abandoned portakabin on the other side of the site. He followed quickly behind.
"What you lookin' for Bols?" he enquired of his DI once they stood inside the musty makeshift office. The air glowed yellow; dust particles formed little paths across the room as they flitted into the sunbeams fighting their way through the gaps in the blinds.
Alex was standing in front of a long desk, which was covered in shabby looking files. A brown Bakelite telephone sat next to a half-full ashtray and a photograph of a woman holding a baby. The frame had once been white but, with time and nicotine, it had taken on a golden colour. She looked round to see Gene standing by the open door of the portakabin, the sun on his hair and his shadow stretching almost to her feet. She said nothing.
A moment passed that seemed like hours. Alex felt she was standing in a scene viewed through a plate of slow glass – a window to a dream, even within her own constructed world. She watched him, unblinking, her lips dry. She slowly turned her head back round and sighed, closing her eyes. All sound disappeared as, in her mind's eye; Gene walked over and stood behind her, his feet on either side of hers, their bodies close.
He placed his hands on her shoulders, sliding the white leather jacket down her arms, exposing bare skin at the base of her neck. On this skin he placed a gentle kiss, as the jacket was discarded on the desk and his hands reached around her waist, long fingers moved deftly to the button of her jeans, undoing it and sliding down the zip in one motion. His thumb caressed the soft skin of her tummy as his fingers slid under the lace band of her panties, pulling her close to him…
She pushed her head back into his shoulder, eliciting a small growl from him followed by a string of kisses down her ear and neck, his other hand tangled in her hair, pulling her head farther back, her body arched against him…
"Gene…" His name escaped her lips in a long breath.
A brief glimpse of her was enough to send his mind reeling. He had asked her what she was looking for and in response she uttered not a word, just gazed at him over her shoulder: the coppers, browns and greens of her eyes mingled in an almost haunting look, the look of someone setting sight on something beautiful they don't quite understand.
In two strides, he imagined, just two strides and she would be in his arms. Every muscle in his body was still as his mind took over…
He would stand behind her, close enough to catch the scent of her, close enough to feel heat cross the gap between her body and his. He would reach out his hands and take off her jacket, to lessen the distance between them yet further. He would push his fingers into the notches in her spine, running downwards to the small of her back and spread his palm wide to take in as much of her as he could. She would turn to liquid in his hands and he would drink in every drop of her. Her body heavy now, she would lean forward onto the desk as he slid her jeans down, curving his body to hers, he would kiss the back of her neck and push inside her welcoming warmth…
At that moment, he saw her turn away and could just make out the sigh of his name.
"Gene…"
He swallowed hard, understanding her need. The short space between them seemed like miles as he uttered back in a low voice.
"Alex?"
Gene Hunt turned on his heel to push the door of the portakabin shut but, at that very instant, Ray appeared. He was red-faced and out of breath, having run across the building site. He leant in the doorframe, panting. "Guv, you gotta come see this!"
Moving out of the door, Gene shot a look at Alex, who by now was standing facing him. The look said a million things, unspoken words raced through his blue eyes. Alex could see the clouded desire and distress at what just didn't happen and held a finger to her lips as he opened his mouth.
She smiled a rather wanton smile as she strode out the door past him.
On the other side of the building site, Chris was leaning against a wire fence holding a handkerchief to his face. On the concrete by his feet was a pool of vomit. The DC looked distinctly the worse for wear as Gene and Alex approached with Ray following close behind, still red faced.
"What the bloody 'ell?" Hunt swore as he looked down to the ground where Chris was pointing, his face turned the other way.
The surface of the concrete looked like it had been attacked with a pick-axe. A deep crack had split right across until small chunks had shattered leaving a small hole, through which the mouldering remains of a human head were just visible. In the heat of the mid-day sun, the now-exposed remains had begun to smell rather badly.
"Guv, we need to get this area cordoned off and the rest of this body out of here. By the looks of it we don't have long to get decent forensics." Alex held out her hand for Gene's police radio to call for uniform. He felt in the inside pocket of his coat and pulled out a hip-flask. "Um, that'll be the other one then," he mumbled, looking half embarrassed, half amused, and immediately pulled the radio out from the other pocket.
Alex watched in slow motion as his hand came towards her, his long slender fingers closed around the bulky radio. In an instant she remembered those fingers… so deft, so gentle and yet so strong. Taking a deep breath she reached out her hand to meet his, closing her fingers across the back of his hand, and, as she took the radio from him, she ran her fingertips across his skin, all the time looking directly into his eyes.
At the gentle contact, Gene's heart leapt. If he had wondered if there was any regret about last night's escapades, all doubt was now gone. She was telling him loud and clear that she wanted him: he knew that from the roses now growing in her cheeks as he turned up one corner of his mouth.
Alex took the radio and turned away, shouting instructions to Viv back at the station. Gene watched her for a brief second, enjoying the movement of her arse in those jeans as she paced back and forth, before walking over to Chris and Ray. He ignored the look of disdain on his DS's face and the sickly pallor of the DC.
"Right, you two, get back to the station and start looking out those old case files – we'll need to get as much background as possible on this before we can go any further."
"What about you," Ray protested, "an'… 'er?" he gestured across to Alex, with his umpteenth fag of the day.
"I, Raymondo, am gonna wait for Plod to get 'ere so I can make sure they don't balls it up!" Gene barked, "And she…" he nodded his head in Alex's direction, "is staying 'ere with me, comprendez?"
He clapped his hands together. "Now 'op to it!" He turned around and started walking over to Alex. She had finished her radio conversation with Viv and now stood there, her bouncing curls glowing auburn in the sun, one hand on her hip, her face glowing in the reflected light from her white jacket. She was twirling her foot on the pointy heel of one boot. She looked up as Gene approached her.
"What say we wait 'ere for uniform, Bols," he spoke in a low rumble, "and then you and me, uh, umm…" He looked at the ground. It reminded Alex of the day the DCI had asked her out for dinner in the kitchenette back at CID.
She took his hand. "… get out of here?" she finished for him. "Maybe a spot of lunch?"
"Bugger lunch."
Uniform had shown up mercifully quickly and, once cordons were set up and the forensics team had set about recovering the remains, the two detectives were able to slip off, taking the chance while they could before the real hard work of the investigation kicked in.
The Quattro roared up to a set of traffic lights, Gene swearing in frustration at having to stop again. "Oh well Bolly, at least it gives me a chance to do this…" he turned slightly in his seat and reached across, placing an outstretched palm on her knee and slowly running it inwards, caressing her inner thigh. This elicited a gasp from Alex, who immediately felt a flush of heat between her legs. A groan lingered on her lips, making Gene smile devilishly. She wiggled in her seat, her jeans making contact with a very sensitive spot, her underwear now slipping against her.
"Well, well DI Drake," he teased, "who'd have thought it eh? A posh brainy tart and a northern flatfoot?"
"Oh, shut up!"
The car screeched off again, making short work of the journey back to Fenchurch East. They pulled up outside Luigi's and hurried inside, hoping that no-one from CID would spot them. The rotund Italian proprietor was standing at the bar inside, polishing glasses. He smiled smugly when he saw them arrive together. "Aha, and how are the lovely Romeo and Juliet today? I trust everything went, ahem, well last night, huh?"
Alex stopped to give Luigi a sweet smile of assent but Gene grabbed her wrist and led her quickly off to the back of the restaurant and the stairs to her flat. "Not a word, Luigi, not a single word," he warned, barely able to contain a grin.
The staircase was in darkness. Alex followed Gene up, slipping her hands around his waist, tickling him slightly and then moving her palms down across the front of his trousers, finding him already aroused.
"Ooh Guv, is that a concealed weapon?" she giggled, tightening her grip on his length.
"Yes, yes it is," he groaned, "and it might go off in your hand if you're not bloody careful!"
When they approached Alex's front door, he swung her round so she was facing the door in front of him. He felt in her pocket for her keys. His mouth on the back of her neck, he planted heavy kisses on her skin, behind her ears. Pulling the jacket down, he kissed across her bare shoulder, making her buckle against him. He pulled the keys from her jeans and handed them to her, then immediately slid his fingers back into her pocket, pulling her hips back into his: his other hand skipped across her stomach and came to rest, fingers closed over her left breast.
As the door burst open, their two bodies tumbled through onto the floor. Kicking the door shut behind him, Gene struggled out of his coat, pinning Alex beneath him with his weight. Once free of his outer garment, he set about disrobing his mate, throwing the white leather jacket out of the way and sliding her top up her back as his mouth kissed its way up the exposed skin. Alex bucked her hips up to meet his, her arms reached round to pull her top over her head as she lay there, gasping and hungry for him. It was unbelievable: lust coursed through her as her heart pumped fresh blood around her veins. She was throbbing in anticipation for him. Wriggling her legs under him, she skilfully disposed of her boots.
He left her bra on; instead he took her hands and spread her palms on the floor in front of her, covering them with his own as he ground his erection against her, and continued kissing and gently biting her neck. His hands moved across her skin, up her arms, underneath and across her breasts, down her sides to her hips, round across the curve of her stomach, to the top of her jeans where his fingers made quick work of the top button and slowly teased the zip down. Gene leaned back on his knees and pulled Alex's jeans right down, abandoning them, along with her knickers, in the same way as he had her jacket.
He loosened his tie as he surveyed his prize, her pale soft skin glowed bright, her hair tousled, neck exposed: she moaned and thrust her hips into the floor, frustrated at the lack of contact.
"Oh God, Gene, touch me!" she whimpered, "Kiss me… hold me… please…"
"So beautiful, Alex… so…" Gene growled, smoothing a palm up the back of one thigh. She parted her legs for him. He took her invitation and slipped his left hand between them, fingers spread. He grunted approval at the wetness that met him there, pushing forward with his hand and using it to raise her up towards him. He continued his caresses as his right hand pulled at his belt and swiftly undid his trousers. Without even pulling them down, he freed himself and guided himself in to her, nestling deep inside as he lifted his arms around her, holding her in a tight embrace. They stayed like this for a few moments, panting, barely moving. Gene lay his head on the back of Alex's shoulder, listening to her pulse race.
Alex moaned softly. The feeling of Gene filling her was exquisite: she savoured it, tensing and relaxing around him and, every so often, giving tiny movement of her hips. She breathed in shallow dips, her eyes closed, feeling the vibrations of his low growls through her back.
Gene kissed her shoulders, running his open mouth across her skin. His arms still tight around her waist, he felt he never wanted to let her go, this precious thing that belonged just to him. He began to slowly echo the roll of her hips: minute, almost imperceptible movements, forwards and around. They revelled together in the delicious friction they created. Long minutes drifted by, the intensity deepening with every breath.
Gene loosened his grip and ran the palms of his hands up Alex's stomach and across her breasts, pausing momentarily to stroke the gentle curves with his thumbs. She groaned and pushed back against him, taking him further inside her. Gene slipped his hands further up, wrapping his fingers around under her shoulders. He drew his hips back, and pushed slowly inside her again. He was close, so very close, but he wanted to look at Alex's face – to be drawn into her tawny eyes as he poured himself into her. His voice rumbled in his chest, the words escaping his mouth in a half-kiss, "Turn around."
He slid out of her and turned her gently over, he laid her down on the floor cradling her head in one arm as his other hand roamed her face, fingers softly pushing her mouth open. Her eyes caught his. Their gaze was intense, never breaking. Together they gradually removed Gene's clothes until they lay there, naked in each other's embrace.
Alex's brows furrowed into a slight frown as she raised a hand to his face, resting her palm on his rough cheek, caressing him lightly with her thumb.
"Who are you, Gene Hunt?" she whispered, not really expecting an answer. He took her hand in his and placed it over his heart, mimicking that first day in the evidence room. Its rhythm was thunderous.
He said nothing, but simply closed his eyes, kissed her deeply and entered her again. Moments later, they cried out in unison as stars exploded behind their eyes.
Drowsy and heavy limbed, their bodies lay tousled and warm on the floor in a patch of afternoon sun. Gene traced small circles on Alex's stomach with his fingertip and she hummed gently at the tickling sensation.
Somewhere in the corner of the room under the pile of discarded clothes, the police radio crackled and buzzed. Chris Skelton's voice could be heard faintly. "Guv..? Hello, Guv? I mean Roger… Are you there, over?" More static. "Where the bloody 'ell are they?" moaned Ray in the background.
There was more crackling and hissing until suddenly, clear as a bell, a deep voice said, "We're still waiting for you, Alexandra."