Disclaimer: I, no matter how much I want to, do not own Ashes to Ashes or, unfortunately Gene Hunt. This is my first fic in this fandom and I am very nervous because there are already some brillant fics out there, so sorry if this disappoints!
Alex Drake rolled out of bed, still cocooned within her covers and landed unceremoniously on the floor as the clock blared out its wake-up call. Climbing out of the duvet, she reached out and grabbed her dressing-gown and wrapped it around herself as she ventured into the kitchen.
Walking into the kitchen, Alex caught sight of something on her sofa. She glanced over. It was Molly, her daughter. She glanced again. The retro striped sofa was unoccupied. She sighed, stuffing two slices of toast into the toaster.
It took five long brings of her bright red telephone for Alex to even realise it was ringing. She stared at it blankly, then snapping out of her reverie, hastily picked up the receiver.
'Hello?' she breathed 'Alex Drake speaking.'
'Bloody hell, Bolly, someone shagged the voice out of you? If you speak any quieter it'll sound as though someone's ripped out yer' voicebox.'
Gene Hunt, Alex sighed. Her DCI had always been a bit of a conundrum to her. No matter how she used her psychology, theories, ideas, all jotted down, she always felt she'd barely scratched the surface of him, his persona. He was a walking, talking example of the old iceberg metaphor; '10 per cent can be seen, the rest is under the surface'. Alex couldn't get under the surface alone. She needed Gene, she needed him to show her what he was really like. But that wasn't coming anytime soon.
Realising she hadn't spoken for a considerable length of time, Alex replied 'Gene?'
'Yes, darling it is. You know I'm so glad you're my DI, you're so quick off the mark."
Alex sighed at his sarcasm and rolled her eyes, fully glad that her senior officer was of the other end of the phone and not infront of her.
'So then Guv, is this a social call? Wondering how I am or are you wanting an intellectual conversation for once? Care to talk about the political state of the country?'
'As much as I want to talk about the 'Great Handbag' at number ten, not, I'm afraid I'm only ringing to tell you to get your bonny little arse down to Tower Bridge, we've got a body, pulled out the river-'
Gene's voice became distant as images floated across her mind. Layton. The boat, The Gun. Molly…
'Bol? BOLLY!' Gene's voice brought her back to the present, well 1981. 'Have you got that? Me, Chris and Ray are already here, along with plod, so get your arse down here.' With that he hung up the phone, Alex still pressing the receiver to her ear, listening to the dial tone.
So that was the (quite short) first bit! Hope you liked it, if you did or want to give me some advice please review!