Sleeping Beauty
Alex turned over in bed once more, pulling the pillow over her head. She was still for a few seconds before grabbing a second pillow. There was a very odd sound sound coming from the lounge, a cross between a broken radiator and a bear being strangled. She groaned into the pillows; it was keeping her awake after a long day. Then there was silence. Beautiful silence. Alex raised her head and breathed a deep sigh of relief, settling her weary self back down to sleep. Just drifting off, it started again.
She let of a sigh of resignation and stumbled out of bed in her pyjamas. A glance at the clock revealed it was 3.20am. She padded into the lounge and saw the source of the noise. Gene Hunt was asleep on his back on the sofa, uncomfortably positioned with his head squashed against the armrest, his right arm contorted underneath his body. In his left hand, a near-empty glass of scotch was precariously balanced a few inches above the floor. They had stayed up until part one talking and drinking; she had done most of the talking whilst he had done most of the drinking. She smiled to herself and straightened up go over and wake the sleeping beast but something stopped her and instead she leant up against the wall and looked at him, just looking. She felt her annoyance gently evaporate and the smile grew. She was thinking about all the things he did that frustrated and irritated her, and how he knew what they were, and how she didn't actually want him to be any different. She realised she had been stood just staring with her thoughts wandering for a while and corrected herself. He was still snoring impressively and she needed some sleep.
Alex quietly walked over to the sleeping Gene to wake him. Crouching down beside him, her gaze lingered on his face. She gently stroked his head, his sandy hair then allowed herself to comb her fingers through it. Gene let out a guttural noise and stirred, unconsciously repositioning himself Alex sharply withdrew her hand, as if she had been caught with it in a forbidden sweet jar, but saw with relief that he hadn't awoken. She paused, knowing she should go back to bed, but couldn't help reaching out and softly touching his stubbly cheek, an action she couldn't get away with usually. She stroked it gently and leant her head against his, listening to his noisy breathy and feeling hers synchronise. She self-indulgently traced her finger over his features and wiped the drool form the corner of his mouth with the sleep over her pyjamas, silently chuckling to herself, as her fingers lingered over his lips. He had stopped snoring now he had moved. She removed the precarious glass from his hand and placed it on the table, taking a deep breath and drawing herself up. She covered him with a throw and he rolled over grunting, still apparently asleep.
"Goodnight, Gene," she said barely audibly. Carefully, she walked back towards her bedroom. As she reached the door, she heard a cough. "You know, my wife just used to poke me in the ribs," came a gruff voice. Alex gasped and was still. Caught. But he was chuckling to himself. "'Night, Bols"."'Night, Gene," said Alex as she headed back into her room, feeling embarrassed, mind swirling. She needed some sleep.