"Just the bill please, Luigi."

Gene Hunt bowed his head as Alex Drake's words cut through his heart.

"You're the feminist… you can pay half," Gene told her, unable to hide the bitterness in his voice. It was over. Finished. He'd told her the truth and she'd practically laughed in his face. She didn't trust him, didn't believe him. God he was sick of this… whatever this was between them. Damn woman had him wrapped around her little finger and she knew it.

For three long years he'd played her little games and he didn't know why he'd expected this 'date' to be any different. It only took a slutty dress and a glance at her tits to turn him into a drooling moron… they weren't even particularly nice tits. Who was he kidding? They were great tits. He'd do just about anything to get his hands on them.

Gene looked down at his wine glass, determined to salvage some of his dignity and walk out of here with his head held high. Enough. No more. Gene Hunt didn't chase the birds. They came to him … begging. All he had to do was come up with the perfect one liner… the perfect put down…

Shit.

He had nothing.

And Drake was opening her gob again.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

"Get your coat. You've pulled."

Gene looked up. There was no laughter in her eyes, no hidden joke at his expense. She was serious. Slowly, Gene stood up and held out his hand. Alex took it without hesitation, offering a shy, nervous smile as she did so. He couldn't help smiling back… although grinning like an idiot was probably a better description.

"Gene, the bill," she gently reminded him as Luigi bustled over with their coats.

Not bothering to count the money, Gene dropped a bundle of notes onto the table,

"Keep the change," he said as he let Alex Drake lead him out of the restaurant.

/\/\/\/\/\/

Running into a crowded restaurant clutching a tin of dynamite probably wasn't one of Ray Carling's greatest ideas. But he wanted to show the Guv and since the Guv was in Luigi's having a professional chat with DI Drake then into Luigi's Ray had to go.

He stopped dead when he got inside, his eyes frantically scanning the room. He couldn't see any sign of either Hunt or Drake. Annoyed he crossed to the bar.

"Luigi, where are they?" he asked.

"Upstairs… but perhaps you should wait a while Signor Carling …" the Italian answered.

Unfortunately, Ray wasn't the most discerning of individuals and he completely missed the note of caution in Luigi's tone.

"Not bloody likely, the Guv's going to love this," he grinned, rattling the box before heading up to the flat.

He ran up the stairs two at a time. In his mind he could already hear the Guv's words of praise. For once in his life, Ray knew that he'd managed to get one over on DI Drake. Whilst she'd been swigging back the Chianti, he Ray Carling, had made a valuable contribution to the case.

Brilliant.

But Ray was shocked out of his happy daydream by the murmur of voices from the landing above... A man's voice followed by a woman's laugh. He looked up. There was DI Drake, wearing her tart coat, staring at the man who was with her… she was all tits, teeth and come to bed eyes. Ray wondered which unfortunate wanker she'd managed to pick up…Poor sod.

It took him all of ten seconds to realise that the poor sod in question was the Guv.

Then Ray witnessed something that made him wish he'd followed Luigi's advice. Watching Shaz and Chris snog had been bad enough but this… this was just wrong. It wasn't even a proper kiss. Not like with that Elaine bird. The Guv been happy to stick his tongue straight down her throat but he was kissing Drake like he was scared or something.

Ray was, however, wise enough to realise that if he interrupted now his bollocks would probably end up in Luigi's meatballs. Never one to prevent a fellow brother getting his leg over, he decided that the safest course of action was to beat a hasty retreat.

"I'll give 'em half an hour," he said to Luigi when he got back to the bar.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/

There was a bottle of champagne in the fridge, soft lighting, candles … Gene couldn't help smiling as Alex led him into the flat.

"Looks like you were expecting me," he said.

"No," Alex replied. "I was hoping but… you're not that easy."

An unspoken memory passed between them. He had, after all, turned her down before. To cover the awkward moment, he opened the champagne, pouring for both of them.

Gene wasn't sure what was supposed to happen next. He wanted this night to last… do things right for once in his life. Looking around him, he quickly realised that a quick fumble under the duvet wasn't what Alex had planned, either. Slow… Gene took a deep breath… he could do slow.

"Dance with me," she said.

"Gene Hunt does not dance!"

The objection was automatic. Gene knew that he'd dance with her to the ends of the Earth if she asked. As expected, Alex ignored him and put some music on, a small smile hovering about her lips as she held out her hand to him. Gene took the hand she offered.

"Okay, let's get the dancing out of the way."

It was awkward at first, as their bodies adjusted to the rhythm of the music. One hand around her waist, the other holding her hand, Gene couldn't recall the last time he'd felt this much pleasure in simply holding a woman. Then again, no one had ever affected him in the same way as Alex Drake. Mouthy, posh, annoying… and he adored everything about her. After all of the shitty things that had happened, Gene was happy to find a measure of peace in her arms.

She dropped her head onto his shoulder with a little sigh. Unable to help himself, Gene brushed his lips across her forehead. He knew that he was being a bit of a girl but he realised that, with her, he could afford to let the mask slip just a little. It seemed to work too. A few moments later she raised her head, tilting it towards his.

This kiss was less tentative that the first and Gene took courage in the fact that she wasn't about to throw him out on his ear. An opinion that was reinforced when he felt her hand on his arse.

"Oi … Bolly, upstairs outside only," he teased.

But she just laughed and dragged his head back down to kiss him again. Okay, enough of the dancing, enough of the waiting, Gene decided that it was time to move things along a bit. Sweeping his hand up her back, he attempted to find the fastening of her dress. No zip at the back. He tried the front. Not unpleasant, as it gave him the opportunity to have a quick grope at her tits but he was quickly frustrated by the apparent lack of any way to get the dress off.

"Bloody hell… how do I get inside this thing."

"It unwraps," she giggled, "like a present."

Freeing herself from his arms, Alex Drake unwound the dress from her body.

"Happy birthday," she smiled as she let the garment drop to the floor, causing Gene to offer up a silent prayer of thanks to whomever might be listening. She was perfect... or almost. His eyes were drawn to the scar on her stomach. As he had done so many months ago, he reached out to touch it, letting his fingers linger over the damaged skin.

"Gene," Alex whispered. "Look at me."

Taking a deep breath, he did as she asked.

"I believe in you Gene … more than that."

He nodded even though her words could do little to take away the horror of what he had done. Not wanting to face those particular demons again, Gene changed the subject.

"Front or back, Bolly?" he asked, trying to keep his voice steady.

"Back."

This was no time to be fumbling with bra straps, Gene realised. His hands were sweaty, shaking… anyone would think he'd never done this before. He was conscious of the fact that he was still fully clothed whilst Alex stood before him clad in nothing more than a few scraps of lace. But Gene felt that he was the more vulnerable.

"You do it," he told her.

She raised an eyebrow at his request, fully aware of the affect that she was having on him. As he watched, Alex reached round and unclasped her bra. Only then did Gene step forward … this was a job that he didn't want to rush. His fingers reached out to tease one strap down her shoulder…

… just as there was a loud knock at the door.

"Guv? Guv? Are you still in there?"

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\