This is the first new fic I have written since losing the writing bug for quite some time so please be gentle as I'm only just getting back into it.
A lot of this first chapter is Gene reflecting back upon events so please bare with me, well...him.
One Last Request.
Chapter 1 - The Onlooker.
He had sat and he had waited. Waiting was not his forte.
The morning was dull with some sun occasionally pushing through the clouds and the hustle and bustle of people going about their morning business.
Gene had never been one for waiting but his instructions for today were crystal clear - to come to this place, on this date, and to wait.
He felt ridiculous but he also felt obliged to come along as requested - not to witness the fulfilment of this apparent prophecy, but to prove to himself that it was wrong, that it was cobblers.
And here he was... July 2008 on the South bank of the Thames.
Gene sat at an outside table of an establishment called The Founders Arms with a black coffee, 'none of this fancy cappuccino lark' in front of him.
With a sigh, Gene pushed his newspaper to one side. He was knocking 72 now and just the very fact that he was here following up on this was making him begin to wonder if he himself was succumbing to age and losing his marbles.
The long retired DCI reached into his coat pocket and pulled out an envelope addressed simply to "Gene"
He was more than familiar with the contents, having first read it in the summer of 1986, but he needed to read it again for reassurance - That he really had been asked to be here today.
The envelope was old, the seal having long since lost it's stickiness.
Gene pulled the letter out and gently unfolded it, as if its contents were precious and valuable.
The letter was dated 1982 and was written in her handwriting...She who Gene had lost so long ago, she who had driven him stir crazy but had gone on to eventually become his second wife in 1985.
She who had been known to him as D.I Alex Drake, later Hunt.
The letter had been written by Alex in 1982 with strict instructions that it was not to be opened unless she left them...left him.
"Dear Gene,
Writing my letters to Chris, Ray and Shaz was not as hard as this one is going to be.
If you are reading this it is because you are either a nosey sod and curiosity has gotten the better of you, in which case I shall have words with you when I next see you, or because I have had to leave.
I must admit that I don't know how to start or how to word any of this.
If I have gone then I dearly hope I had the chance to say goodbye, not just to you but the team as a whole - my friends.
I want you to know that the time I have spent with you, since the day I first set foot in your world in 1981 has meant more to me than you could ever imagine.
I came to you having been hurt in life and betrayed in love.
In my time here, you and I have had some wonderful times.
You showed me that there is more to policing than targets and statistics.
But you also showed me that there is more to myself.
For too long I had buried myself in my work and simply been 'D.I Drake'... Gene, your friendship burrowed beneath that exterior and found simply 'Alex'. An Alex who hadn't been seen for a long time, but never the less, an Alex who has very much enjoyed every second of your friendship and company.
Gene, you are the closest and dearest friend I shall ever have.
If I don't say it now then I never will... I love you with all my heart and I shall never ever forget you.
Alex"
The letter now had a second page added to it, this one dated 1983 and stapled behind the first 1982 letter.
"Since taking my letters back from you all, I am adding this second page to your original letter.
I desperately want to tell you more about myself, where I came from and how I came to be in your world but I fear you would never believe me - I scarcely believe it myself sometimes.
It would be no exaggeration to say things didn't go well for us in late 1982, that much we both know.
You will have filed it away in the back of your mind and chosen to ignore it, that's how you deal with things that don't make sense, but I know you remember what I said to you just days before the shooting accident.
I told you I was from the future.
Your reaction was exactly what I should have expected. I should never have blurted that out but I was caught very much off guard. I guess you could say I panicked.
If you place any trust at all in anything I say then please believe me when I say that it is true.
So Gene, I ask you one favour as my closest friend and ally... Please allow me to prove that what I say is true.
Gene, I very much wish for you to live a long life - The world needs Gene Hunt in it for as long as possible. But if you manage to get to the year 2008 without killing yourself with the way you drive, or smoking yourself to death, then please honour my one and only request.
On July 20th 2008, please come to the South Bank of the Thames.
By then there will be a footbridge across the Thames called the Millennium Bridge. Near that bridge you will find a restaurant/bar named The Founders Arms.
If you are willing to give me one chance to prove myself to you then please go there on the morning of that date. I can tell you what you will find.
During the morning there will be a commotion. A gunman will take a busker hostage.
It will have been a long time since you last saw him but I am sure you will recognise the gunman.
A short while later the police will be called. They will cordon off the scene and shortly afterwards a Police negotiator will arrive. That negotiator will be an over-stressed female D.I who has just been interrupted from taking her daughter to school and will arrive on a very short fuse.
Gene, that negotiator will be me.
I know this sounds mad. If I had been left a letter like this, I too would think it mad.
But please, if you are still on this Earth in years to come, please spare this one morning to at least give me this once chance.
All I ask of you is that you please observe and do not interfere as events unfold.
I know you will want to get involved - the situation does get out of control - but it must be allowed to play out as it is what happens afterwards that lands me in your world.
If nothing happens then you can enjoy the rest of your morning, maybe go to the betting shop and put it down as just another of my "Fruitcake ramblings"
Gene - Please do this one thing for me.
All my love,
Alex"
"Once a fruitcake, always a fruitcake" Gene muttered fondly as he folded the letter neatly away, placing it back into its envelope and then back into his coat pocket.
He couldn't help wondering if, deep within her warped mind, this was Alex's idea of a joke. The thought crossed his mind that he might find another letter one day which read 'Ha, ha, gotcha!'
The thoughts of Alex allowed Gene a small but rare smile as he fondly remembered her.
He thought of her often but this one day, a day he had always promised himself, had made it feel like she was almost with him again.
He looked across the Thames from where he sat alone as he thought back. It had been many years now since he had lost Alex but sometimes it still felt like only yesterday.
They had finally got together in 1984. It was the 2nd anniversary of the day he had come so terribly close to killing Alex by his own hands when he had shot her by accident - something he had bitterly regretted ever since, despite Alex clearly holding no grudges for what was nothing more than an accident.
He had done something incredibly out of character that day and bought her some flowers by way of apology and then taken her out for dinner. She had repeatedly told him that he really didn't need to apologise every year, but Gene knew he had to, his own sense of honour said he had to.
That had been the evening where it had finally begin to take off, and numerous dinner dates had followed until Gene and Alex finally and openly admitted to people that they were a couple.
The superiors had frowned upon it at first, assuming it to be nothing more than an office romance, that would either fizzle out or end with a terrible fall out with one of them having to be transferred.
New Years Eve and just seconds into 1985 was when Gene stopped the music at CID's New Years celebration in Luigi's, got down on one knee in front of all and proposed to Alex.
She had of course accepted and Gene had embraced his wife-to-be proudly to the applause and cheers of the assembled masses in the Italian wine bar.
The superiors had taken a more relaxed view once the engagement was announced much to Gene and Alex's relief.
Some things never changed though. They had still ranted and raved, shouted and screamed at one another across CID when one felt the other was following a completely wrong line of enquiry.
Gene and Alex were finally married in the summer of 1985.
The ceremony had gone perfectly, with Gene looking stunningly smart and Alex looking radiant as ever.
The notable events Gene immediately recalled from the wedding were Ray's embarrassment at having caught the bouquet thrown by Alex, and Gene's horror at Chris and Shaz having arranged the soon to be sold off Police Rover as a wedding car. That didn't even count the "JUST MARRIED" Chris had sprayed onto the rear window of the police car with the reassurance of "It'll wash off Guv, honest!". Thankfully, uniform never found out what happened to their car that day. As far as they knew, it was in for a service.
One thing did suddenly change with the announcement in late 1985 that Alex was pregnant.
CID had been elated and Gene even more so.
In the months that followed Alex eventually had to admit defeat to her bump and take maternity leave, despite her insistence that she could still work from home.
Home itself was now a house slightly further afield in which the pair of them were very happy together in.
But then had come the end of it all - June 1986.
Gene remembered that day well. He remembered leaving Alex that morning despite the fact that she had spent a lot of the night in discomfort.
But she had assured him that she was fine, that it was just the baby making itself known and that it would pass.
Reluctantly Gene had believed Alex and had gone to work that day as normal.
Gene now wished more than anything that he had stayed home with her that day, that he had aired on the side of caution and not simply taken Alex's word that everything was fine.
He had no doubt in his mind that Alex had genuinely thought it was nothing serious, and Gene himself certainly knew nothing about pregnant women - all he knew was that they got bigger, suffered morning sickness, and had odd food cravings - in Alex's case a brand of crisps called Skips.
The ominous call that changed everything had come in to CID, direct to Gene's office, around midday.
Alex had collapsed and been rushed to hospital bleeding.
Gene had dropped everything he was working on and rushed directly there.
Once there they had kept him waiting, and waiting, all while reassuring him that everything possible was being done.
Eventually a consultant had come into the room Gene had been taken to.
All sorts of medical terms had been hurled at Gene as the consultant had explained what had happened and what was going on now.
Gene, admittedly, took very little of it in - everything was happening so fast.
All he understood was that something had gone very wrong with Alex's pregnancy. She had been overcome with terrible pain, she had started bleeding and she had collapsed.
Gene was thankful that Alex had at least been able to remove the chain from their front door and dial 999 for help before she had collapsed in their hallway.
The question of "Is the baby alright?" had been carefully danced around but Gene always remembered being told that they were having to deliver the baby right then by caesarean.
Remembering that day always caused mixed emotion for Gene.
On the one hand it felt like the end of everything as if he had just been crushed by a tremendous dark weight falling upon him, yet at the same time, it was also the proudest day of his life.
Both pieces of news had been delivered to him at the same time.
The first news, when he was asked to sit down by the consultant, was the news that Alex had not made it.
Gene remembered his face falling into his hands, closing his eyes and seeing nothingness as the consultant consoled him over the loss of his wife, his world, his 'Bolls'.
He remembered the explanations... That Alex had lost too much blood, something about bleeding internally, that they had done everything they could but the strain on Alex's body had been too much and she had suffered a cardiac arrest during the surgery. The consultant assured Gene that everything possible had been done but Alex had simply not responded to the attempts at reviving her.
It was while Gene was attempting to digest and comprehend the terrible news of Alex's death that the second news came.
"The baby is alive"
Gene remembered looking up in his shocked state. In his devastated state of mind he hadn't even given the baby a thought, assuming the baby had died along with Alex.
"I know this is not the time for congratulations Mister Hunt", the consultant had said remorsefully, "But you have a daughter".
"A daughter?" Gene had asked, all of this news too much to take in.
"Yes" The consultant had confirmed, "She's premature, slightly under weight, but otherwise entirely healthy. She's quite the fighter"
Gene dragged himself back from these thoughts.
He knew reading those damned letters always set him off like this, it couldn't be helped.
His only regret was that his daughter never got to meet her amazing mother.
He knew Alex would be just as proud of their daughter as he was, and the consultant was indeed correct, she was indeed a fighter - his little warrior as he had called her when she was small.
Now aged 22, Alexis Cheyenne Hunt was now finishing her second year in the Royal Navy.
'A Hunt in the Royal Navy' Gene thought to himself, 'God 'elp the Argies if they ever come back fer more. Won't need a Task Force - Just send 'er in!'
Before Gene could drift any further into his memories, he heard a startled scream and instinctively looked up.
Next to the railings of the Thames, a man and a woman were engaged in some form of a struggle.
The woman appeared Chinese and a guitar was dropped on the ground infront of her....A busker!
The man looked agitated as the woman screamed in his grasp and pulled frantically to free herself.
Gene noticed passers by were now stopping, gathering at a distance to stare at the commotion. Others were reaching for their mobile phones to call the police when suddenly the buskers scream became more frantic.
The man had pulled a gun.
Gene rose to his feet, moving away from his table and moved a few steps nearer.
His mouth dropped open in disbelief as he whispered, "No..."
He reached once again for the letter in his pocked, holding tightly to it as if holding Alex's hand.
Everything she had said in her letter was beginning to happen.
"You stay back!" The gunman waved the gun towards the crowd and then aimed it once again at the frantic buskers head.
"Don't you look at me!" he barked, "Don't look at me!"
"Layton..." Gene breathed in total disbelief at what he was seeing, "Arthur bloody Layton..."
Uniformed police officers were on the scene within minutes, ushering the onlookers further back and cordoning the area off with blue and white police tape.
Gene looked on, watching events unfold as predicted, as the officers made frantic chatter on their radios.
This wasn't good enough, Gene decided, he needed to be nearer.
Still not fathoming how Alex's prophecy could be coming to pass, Gene moved away from The Founders Arms and into the crowd of onlookers.
It was definitely Arthur Layton. There was no mistaking that man.
Gene had last seen him in 1981, 27 years ago, and here he was now taking this busker hostage after Alex's letter had told him he would recognise the gunman.
Gene shook his head momentarily as if expecting some kind of common sense to kick in, as if he would take a second look and realise that this was simply someone who looked like Layton.
But it wasn't.
'How could she have known?' Gene questioned himself in search of a rational answer.
If this were the old days Gene would have pulled his gun out and shot Layton dead by now, none of this pandering to the hostage taker lark.
"Start talking sergeant"
The voice behind him made Gene's heart leap within his chest and suddenly skip a beat.
He knew that voice. A voice he had not heard in over twenty years, yet sounding the same as they very last time they had spoken. It was unmistakable. It was Alex.
Gene took a very deep breath to steel himself before allowing himself to turn around in the direction of the voice he still loved so much to this day.
"IC1 male, Arthur Layton. He may be under the influence of drugs, he's taken a busker hostage. Frankly, he might do anything Ma'am"
Gene turned round. There she was. Right before his very eyes! Alex!
"Okay I'm taking my daughter to school, she's in the damn car with me! You can't seriously expect me..."
The daughter! Gene looked in the direction just behind the two police officers.
There, in the passenger seat of a silver car was a young girl watching the woman detective intently. Gene began to realise, could this be the mysterious daughter Alex occasionally alluded to but never spoke in depth about?
Gene stared momentarily before looking once again back to the modern day police woman.
There was none of the brilliant bright make up that gene was so used to seeing on her. Nor was there any of the bright clothing. There wasn't even a trace of her warmth, her charm, her pleasant demeanour...This was a cold, hard, career minded woman.
Gene looked at the sight before him and saw exactly what Alex's letter had predicted.
There stood before him was a very wound up, pissed off, female D.I.
Suddenly she moved. Her irritation at this interruption to her day was obvious as she walked through the crowd.
People parted to allow the officer through.
"Excuse me" She repeated as she passed people.
Before Gene had time to think, she was right next to him.
"Step aside sir" She ordered, practically pushing him to one side before ducking under the police cordon tape and into the danger zone.
"You stop there!"
"You asked to speak to me, Arthur" She spoke now in a much softer tone than the one she had used on the police sergeant.
"I'm D.I Alex Drake"
"I know who you are!" Layton replied.
"...So do I..." Gene muttered in disbelief as his emotions whirled all over the place, "...So do I..."
End Chapter 1
Many thanks to Gem from Luigis for beta-ing.
Many thanks also to rantandrumour's fics for getting me writing again!