Just been watching 3.5 and thought this would be a good idea for a one-shot. As I predicted it will now be a two-shot or possibly a sixty-three shot… What I'm trying to say is that if I get enough reviews to spur me on, I promise a second chapter, in which the rating will be going up to M.

Think of this as sort of an insight to Alex's thoughts on past events. I saw a window of opportunity in this episode and I didn't think it had been done before so I thought I'd do the honours. Obviously this is a completely different take on how it should have gone, I know that they went out to get Hardwick straight after the said conversation, but in my world they leave it for the day and that's when Alex goes home, so just go with it please! It's my first fic and only beta-d by me, myself and I so excuse any mistakes! R+R, yes?

….

I can't believe it. Never in my 3 years of being in this...what would you call it? Coma? Parallel universe? Dream? I don't know anymore… I have felt a lot of things for my DCI, but never that. Yes, I felt sorry for Gene Hunt.

I can't say I knew the man that he 'used' to be, back in the Sam Tyler days. But I had a very good idea because of Tyler himself. He described Gene Hunt as a bold, brash, extremely aggressive and arrogant man. All the traits that should make you despise a person. But even as Sam was telling me these horrible, shameful things I couldn't help but think of him as bittersweet. Attractive, even, the way Sam described him with his...how did he put it? 'Childish pout, floppy dirty blonde hair and leather driving gloves' and apparently a sex god, or so he thought. Then somehow I found myself in the same situation as Sam, and god forbid, found myself secretly smitten with said DCI.

Although I thought I'd never admit this, admit defeat, I never thought it was in me. However, when things started getting serious at Fenchurch east in these last couple of months, since I was shot by him, I started to see him for the genuine, ruggedly perfect man he is. Every time he calls me 'Bolly' my stomach does a funny little flip. Keats is still trying to make me think differently, and I'll play along, just to keep him happy. I may have had my doubts before, stupidly. But I know this man, I know he would never do what Keats is suggesting he has done. He is a lot of things, but not that. And I know what gets to him. This is why I felt sorry for him.

You see, the man in question likes to be seen in a certain light. He needs people to think he is a scary, manipulative, possessive being. What does he call it? 'Cleaning the streets of scum'. Yes, he needs to be the hero. He has an ego the size of America. That's just who he is, it's what makes him. And over the last 3 years I have seen this fade in him. Don't get me wrong, it still shows at all the right times. But he is still moving further and further away from the Manc Lion he used to be. Thankfully, only I can see this because of my profession.

And I saw that look in his eye, maybe it was defeat? Realisation? Hurt? Possibly all of those things. But when 'bastard Lytton' asked Gene "What's happened to you?", and his accomplice told Ray he was glad someone still had the balls, I saw it.

I tried to make him feel slightly better in my own little way. "And I thought you were a throwback, compared to those two you're practically homo-erectus".

"Homo-what? You're obsessed woman." He replied. Only with him, I found myself thinking.

It was at that moment, I got that feeling, as I stood in the corridor alone. You'll know the one I mean. The 'now or never' feeling. I had to give in, before it was too late. The final chapter was approaching and we could all feel it. I had to show him the real me, what I really felt for him. But more importantly, I had to show him who he really was and find out if he still felt anything for me like I suspected he used to.

So I made my excuses, went home, and made myself look somewhat irresistible to my best ability. I knew there was scum like Hardwick to catch, Christ I'm even talking like him now. But for now I had to deal with this feeling that had been creeping up inside of me for so long.

I knew he wouldn't be in Luigis. Not in the mood. And he hadn't turned up at my flat, drunk with a bottle of wine and two glasses. God he hadn't done that in so long. I think I even missed it. I knew he'd be where he always was when he felt slightly defeated. Sat alone, slightly drunk, in the dark of his office. Whiskey in hand. Who knows what kind of thoughts running through his mind. I'd like to. So I went to him.

I crept slowly through the double doors of CID, swinging my hips, I know he likes that. The walk seemed to last a lifetime until I found myself leaning against the doorframe of his office, his face slowly lifting from the whisky glass on his desk, his eyes finally meeting mine. And then I knew. Yes. I had to show him he could still be the man he used to be. That he could possess me. I had to make him feel better.