Set after episode 8. This is my fist Ashes to Ashes fanfic so any comments will be much appreciated, thanks.
Alex Drake stumbled wearily into her flat, reached out blindly for the light switch and dumped her jacked on the floor by the door. Slipping out of her shoes, she padded silently through to the kitchen. She poured herself a glass of water from the tap, and downed it in one go before pouring a second and sipping more slowly.
Alex glanced up at the mirror hanging above the sink; she looked past her own reflection, hoping to see Molly sitting at the table behind her. Yet another disappointment. She was alone now. No Molly. No Mum. No more Evan either, since she couldn't risk seeing her younger self. At least, Alex thought, there would be no more of the Clown now, that Bowie Clown who had haunted her since she had first arrived here. Her Dad…
She splashed water on her face and gave herself hard stare – be strong Alex Drake, Molly needs you to be strong.
Tired though she was, Alex knew there was just one more thing that needed to be done tonight before bed. She needed to put today behind her and move on. Her hands trembled as she peeled the homemade countdown calendar from the wall. The red crosses blurred as tears once more filled her eyes, but she would not cry, not again.
Watching her Mum and Dad die all over again had been the hardest thing imaginable, but as she thought back over the last few months Alex had to smile: she had been given a second chance to see her parents, to spend time with her Mum, to get to know the real Caroline – it was more than she could ever have hoped for.
And after all, 1981 was not so bad Alex reminded herself. Finally she felt accepted into Gene's team, she was even starting to understand why Sam Tyler had chosen to return here…
Memories of the party downstairs, that she had just slipped away unnoticed from, filled her mind: Chris and Shaz, the happy couple, who's good mood seemed to be infectious - even Ray was having difficulty keeping up his resentful demeanour. Luigi, who was torn between being pleased by the business and irritated by the endless string of jokes being thrown around – mostly at his expense. And then there was Gene…
Alex remembered, with a secret smile, their final conversation of the evening, both of them leaning in a little to close, her words slurred by alcohol,
"Looks like I'm not going anywhere just yet." Their eyes had locked and a silent understanding had passed between them: Alex Drake and Gene Hunt had unfinished business.
Several Weeks Later:
Alex Drake lent in close enough for Gene Hunt to feel her breath on his face,
"Make me," she said in barely more than a whisper. He narrowed his eyes but refused to look away. An intense silence fell as both stubborn individuals waited for the other to break first.
Unbeknown to Alex, an internal war raged in Gene's head, he had long since forgotten what their latest row had been about. His hands gripped the desk between them so tightly his knuckles had gone white. She never looked more attractive than when she was angry, and right now she was seriously pissed off. Gene wanted her so badly it physically hurt.
"Fine. Get out of my sight," he snapped.
A small, satisfied smile played across her lips as Alex left Gene's office. He watched her waltz away, her head held high, "DRAKE! Two hours, you hear me? Back here in two hours or prepare yourself for the bollockin' of a life time!"
Alex was dropped outside the warehouse by a Uniform patrol car, but from there she was on her own. Ducking under the crime scene tape, she entered the derelict building and looked around – there was something not right about all this.
The sound of Alex's quiet footsteps was echoed eerily back at her, and that combined with the slight chill in the air made her shiver. Death – that's what this place felt like, and with good reason too. Nineteen-year-old Sally Wright had died here, it had been a brutal attack but there was no sign of a struggle, she had not fought to save her life, she had not defended herself.
Reaching the centre of the warehouse Alex squatted down, this was where Sally had been found. The fatal wound to the side of her head had left a dark shadow of blood on the concrete.
Alex thought back to how Sally's body had been when she had first visited the crime scene – her fingernails had been clean, her wrists had shown no sign of her having been restrained, this had bothered Alex but it was not why she had insisted on coming back.
Moving back from where the lifeless teenager had been lying, Alex turned slightly to look more closely at the blood that had been surrounding the body, there was always some blood splattered during this type of attack but the circular spots of blood had haunted her since she had first visited the scene two days before. It was odd. She searched her mind desperately - there was something a pathologist had once told her, but like a dream the memory had faded away.
Alex sighed, straighten up and simultaneously realised two things: firstly what was wrong with the blood, and secondly that she was no longer alone in the warehouse…
So…? Should I continue?