Ladies, Gents and fellow pervs of the Mays and Keats thread. This is mine and Scully's latest offering. It's set just before series 3 and it's Jalex...if that's not your bag then I'd retreat now. As always we own none of the characters or anything like that...if we did we'd sure as hell not be sat around writing fan fiction!

Once again Alex felt the familiar pierce of a bullet; even at this point, in the brief moments before she was enveloped by the darkness that would soon come, she knew it was an accident. For all of his threats, Gene would never hurt her. His face was pained and full of concern as he looked down at her. She clung on as long as she could, but the pain was too great and the urge to close her eyes far too strong. Despite Gene's pleas, she slipped away.

She woke expecting the beep of hospital monitors, the sharp white brilliance of hospital lights. But, as her hazel eyes fluttered open, she realised the scene was quite different. She was in bed; a grand, towering four-poster. An elaborately embroidered eiderdown covered her. She was in a large room with a enormous arched window, and the light seemed to pour in despite the curtains still being closed. Gingerly stepping to her feet, she noted that she was wearing an ankle-length, cream-coloured nightdress and there were rollers in her hair. Good God, where am I this time?, she asked herself wearily.

Alex wandered barefoot to the window and looked outside. She was high above the street; it looked a lot like London, but the landscape seemed...odd. The smog was thick and dense; buildings were dotted around, the streets were still cobbled, and the people below scurried around like ants going about their daily business. She was greeted by the comforting sight of an old faithful London bus trundling up the road. As it drew nearer, she noted the advert on the side of it: 'Gary Cooper in High Noon', it read. Her mind was awhirl as she tried to make sense of the scraps of information in her head. She recalled a poster for the very same film hanging in Gene's office. "Ahh, 1952-I took Irene Barker to see High Noon at Deansgate Odeon. Couldn't've been more perfect: Gary Cooper on form, a bag of chips after, and a quick fumble on the way home! Those were the days, Bolly." Gene's voice haunted her ears like a ghost; she could almost smell his scent of whiskey and cigarettes.

"No, no-this is too cruel!" she called out to the empty room, almost unwilling to believe that Gene's bullet had sent her spiralling further back in time. She looked around the room, frantically scanning about for anything that would give her a clue as to why she was here; and, more importantly, what she needed to do to get home. She wondered to which 'home' she was referring: 2009, or 1982 with Gene and Co. at her side? She would have taken either at that moment.

At the foot of the bed was an old brown leather suitcase; placing it gently on the bed, Alex undid the clasps. The case was impeccability packed; there was a white chiffon blouse and a dark green three-quarter-length tailored skirt. The clothes were minimalist, but ever so elegant. There were two pairs of nylon stockings, a white garter belt, a small bag containing a few bits of make up, a hair brush and a toothbrush. Underneath all of this was an identity card:

Ms Alexandra Drake
Special Operation Executive
Date of Birth: 11th June 1920.

1920? Her stomach churned. Before she could comprehend the situation, there was a loud knock at the door. Pulling on a long dressing gown, she went to open it. "Good morning, Ms Drake, I trust you slept well? Should you not be dressed by now, dear? The car will be here in half an hour." The kindly gentleman on the other side of the door spoke; he seemed to know her and Alex felt a connection with him as well but his face she could not place. He must have been 60 or so, with a deep, well-spoken voice and a large moustache. "Yes...yes, of course. Apologies, sir. I overslept but it won't take me long." She played along as though she knew where she was going. "I still need to give you your papers, ma'am. Do you have a moment?" The man held up a brown paper envelope. Ushering him in to sit at the small oak table in the middle of the room, Alex then sat opposite him as he began to speak.

"Here is your passport; you will go by the name of Alexandra Mills. He pushed a small brown booklet across the table towards her. You and your husband, 'James Mills' , will be the guests of Baron Nicolas Levkov. Baron Levkov studied here in England and graduated from Oxford back in the 20's with a degree in Engineering Science. Most notably, he excelled even his most astute tutors; the man has an astonishing mind. We understand he is now working for the Russian government developing a new anti aircraft missile; but, of course, we believe there is more to it than that. The Russian government would not employ a man of Levkov's brilliance and not use him to his full potential." He pushed a photograph of a middle-aged gentleman with short dark hair and piercing eyes towards her. "Levkov is well aware of his brilliance, Ms Drake, and has become quite the talk of the Russian middle class. His daughter, Yana, is to be married. Your cover story is thus:..." He paused as though to make himself very clear. "...James and yourself are British Aristocrats; you will be guests at the wedding. Levkov will want to show you off; let him. Whilst you are there, take note of everything he says: nothing is insignificant. A man like Levkov is prone to boasting. If he's working on something more significant than the anti-aircraft weaponry, he may well want certain people to know about it."

"Agent James Keats will meet you at the port; he's been given the same brief. He is your 'husband' for the next few weeks. Ms Drake, do try and stay on the right side of him." The kindly gentleman said this whilst stifling a chuckle. Apparently my reputation has preceded me, Alex thought with a roll of her eyes. "He's a nice lad. Stick with him. Try not to get separated; there's safety in numbers, and Jim's one of the best. I went to school with his father." His eyes glinted slightly, a curious smile on his face. "Well, I digress, at any rate; I must leave you in peace and let you get ready, dear... " He ambled out of the chair and reached for Alex's hand, holding it steadily in his own. "Take care Alex; I know you won't let us down."

Closing the door, Alex rested her head against it. How could this be happening?, she sighed. Once again, she had found herself out of time and alone in the most foreign of places. Dragging herself to the bathroom, she pulled the rollers from her thick, chocolate-coloured hair and set about preparing herself for the challenge ahead.