When she was little, the first one she remembered was a kite. It was red with gold string, and they'd flown on the grass close to the road where her parents would die.
The last one they had given her had been the roller skates she'd seen when she'd gone back to her room. She'd fallen down so many times, but her parents, particularly Caroline, had told her not to give up. They'd never known if she mastered the art or not. They lay amongst the other toys in the box she labelled 'mum and dad'.
The first one Evan had given her was a camera; wildly modern for its time. She knew, had known even then, that he was trying to make her feel loved, surrounding her with fabulous gifts, but he could never replace the wide smile of her father or the comfort of her mother's arms.
Molly got her one independently for the first time(i.e without Evans help) the year before she was shot. It was a scarf, made of floating blue material, edged by a seem of sparkling thread. She'd only stopped wearing it a week before the shooting because Molly had teased her about wearing the same clothes for years.
At the thought of the last one, a tear trickled down her cheek. She tried desperately to pull herself together, she could not show emotion in the middle of the office. Sighing, she glanced down at what she had dubbed her 1983 'birthday present'. It was a file for the Jarvis case, one with came with a rather visceral reaction just looking at the photographs.
She heard Shaz bustling about next to her, then she intoned a meaningful;
"I'll be in the kitchen if anyone needs me." She'd evidently seen her not so well hidden tears.
Thankful for the wonderful little WPC's tact, she followed her, setting the file back on the desk.
"What's the matter Ma'am? If you don't mind me asking, that is."
"I'm fine Shaz, really, thanks for the concern."
"Is it the Guv? I mean, I know you've had your difficulties recently what with DCI Keats still being around-"
"No, really, I'm just feeling a little emotional, that's all."
Right on cue, a shout ripped through the fragile silence of the office.
"DRAKE!"
"Duty calls," she muttered, rolling her eyes at Shaz, who grinned in sympathy.
Emerging from the kitchen, she saw that he was pacing the room angrily.
"There you bloody are! You know, while you've been poncing around making tea or gossiping, there's been a development in the Jarvis case, the case we need to solve while there's still a killer out there, or do you not care about that?"
She knew he was trying to rile her, but something about that question made her think, think about everything that had happened to her in the last three years. About getting shot, fearing every bloody night for whether she was dead, whether she'd ever see her little girl again, whether she'd ever get home again. And suddenly, she knew her answer.
"No," she whispered, turned on her heel and marched out of the station.
"Bloody hell," Ray smirked, his eyes lingering on the door. "What was all that about?"
"No i-bloody-dea, Raymondo."
Shaz had watched everything from the kitchen door, and was now a little worried about her friend.
"She was crying a bit this morning Guv. Do you think she's had bad news or something?"
"Like I said Granger, no i-bloody-dea, but we need her back here. Can't afford to be a man… woman down today. You go after her, see she gets her arse back here pronto." Less than pleased to be doing the donkey work, but concerned for the Ma'am, Shaz hurried through the double doors. She started in Luigi's, but the door was locked, and when she went up the back stairs to her flat, it was clear no one was in.
Not really knowing where else she might have gone, she checked the streets surrounding the area, hoping for a tell-tale glimpse of white leather. Nothing. Scared now, she ran back into the office just as DCI Keats made an entrance.
"Guv?" Gene looked up as she stood panting in his office doorway.
"Oh don't tell me she's gone bloody AWOL?"
"Gone AWOL? DI Drake," Keats said, sliding up to the office with a rather gleeful expression. "Driven her away already then Gene?"
"Contrary to popular belief, I had nothing to do with this one. It seems Drakey's having an emotional little paddy, whilst we're left here to do the actual work we're paid for."
"Like the Jarvis case? Think again." Gene raised his eyebrows. "I'm letting another division… Fenchurch West I think, take over."
There were yells of "What?" and "I bloody hope not" from the rest of CID, whilst Gene stood, ready to launch into shouting mode. Sensing this, Keats cut in.
"It's nothing personal, just that they are used to dealing with these sorts of cases, plus the crime actually happened within their precinct. This leaves you free to, I don't know, track down your DI." Before Gene could respond, he was out the door, a grin now firmly set in place.
Shaz was looking at him questioningly, and he did his best to try and avoid her gaze.
"Guv-"
"Fine! I'll bloody do it!"
Shaz grinned as he put on his coat and gathered his car keys.
"If I'm not back in an hour with my DI, assumed I've killed her for being such a pain in the arse."
Once he'd gone, Ray rounded on Shaz.
"Why the bloody hell have you got the Guv running around London after Drake? What happens if a case comes in?"
"Me, this is my fault? I know perception is something you've never heard of, but even you could probably see that the Guv didn't need much persuasion to go after her, did he?"
He didn't know why, but as soon as he was behind the wheel of the Quattro, he felt himself driving towards there. Something told him that she would be there.
And a glimpse of a solitary figure on the top of the hill told him he was right. Getting out of the car, he noted that uncannily she was sat in the same spot from which Alex Price had watched her parents die.
"OI!"
"Piss off." She was sat with her arms around her knees, head rested on them. As he got closer, he could tell that she'd been crying. Not knowing what to say, he sat down beside her, and watched the city, trying to find a way of starting.
"Um…" he said, unusually nervous. "Do you want to talk about it?"
"Not really."
"Great. So, I'll just sit here letting my arse go numb in silence then?"
"Oh, god, I feel so sorry for you."
"Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit, Bolls."
"Please, stop."
"Stop?"
"Stop calling me Bolls, treating me like a friend, you make it so hard!"
"I don't understand B-… Alex."
Finally, she was talking. The tears streamed down her face as she turned to him.
"I feel so guilty Gene! I shouldn't be here, shouldn't be enjoying it! I should be at home with my little girl being a mother, not running around the streets of London in nineteen eighty bloody three! I promised her, Gene, I promised I would always put her first, and now look at me!"
"Why can't you see her? Is it legal I mean, what-"
"No it's not bloody legal, I am NOT A BAD MOTHER!"
"Okay, calm down." They sat for another few minutes in silence, until, reaching into his pocket for a handkerchief, he looked at her. "So this is what it's all been about, then? You miss your little girl?"
"No… and yes. I'm always upset over that. Oh…" He could see she was struggling for words.
"Go on."
"It's my birthday, Gene. I'm thirty eight, or logically I am, but I don't think it counts here, and what have I got to show for it. Three years ago… Three years ago today my little girl… She brought me breakfast in bed. And it was the first time she'd ever done that, and I was proud of her, even though it was just a little thing, but I had her, you know? I've always had someone on my birthdays; my parents were there for me when I was little, even after they were killed I had my godfather, and here? Here I have no one. I just feel so alone."
Another long silence followed, in which he thought about what she'd said.
"I don't know about you Bolls, but this way of life is horrible. You get older each year with nothing to have, nothing to hold, and you realise that no matter how much of a difference you make in life, you get shit back. You thought you were the only lonely sod? Nah, we all are. We've all got our problems; you've got your daughter, Rays got the dad that don't love him, Chris is still in love with Shaz, she's trying to make something of herself in the force, and I, well… I got this woman I can't for the life of me figure out, but I know that it breaks my heart to see her so sad." She turned and stared at him, searching his eyes for a hint of humour, but there was none.
"Really?"
"S'the truth Bolls. Now, I probably can't reunite you with your little girl, but I do know I can stop you from being alone." And with that he drew her into a hug, one with the same amount of comfort she'd felt as a child, protected from harm in his strong arms.
He held her for what seemed like years, placing a light kiss on her head and whispering, so that only she'd hear;
"Happy birthday, Alex."
