I do not own A2A, but some lucky person does! (the beeb most likely)
Be kind, it's my first A2A fanfic
Gene/Alex
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Chapter 1
DI Sam Tyler was a pain in the backside. DS Ray Carling had hated him. DC Chris Skelton had worshipped him. WDC Annie Cartwright had loved him. DCI Gene Hunt had respected him. Now he was gone. Gene held his cigarette to his lips, inhaling deeply, his whiskey bottle tight in his other hand. He tried to ignore the involuntary tears cascading down his cheeks. This was policing. This was what happened. People died. No-one lived forever, and in his time Gene had seen more that his fair share of young men lying down their lives for justice. He just never thought it would happen to Sam, he was so careful, so precise, but he never knew when to follow orders. He remembered the radio coming in telling him that Sam's car had gone into the river and Sam hadn't surfaced. He remembered going to his house…telling Annie. That was a memory that would haunt him forever. Sam and Annie were the perfect couple. And though he was a prick at times, Sam was a hero and a bloody good copper. Gene had to get out of this city. There was nothing to hold him back. Go somewhere. Anywhere. London.
***
Gene couldn't remember the last time he had got so pissed. Memories attacked him like sharks through a sea of whiskey, Sam's death, Annie's face, The Mrs' harsh words as she left, the baby. Losing the baby. He began to wonder, and not for the first time, if they hadn't lost their son, would things have been different? Now was not the time to dwell on the past.
"Gene?" Her soft voice asked catching, her normally attentive eyes glazed with the alcohol and pending tears. He looked back at her, she was so beautiful it hurt him to look at her sometimes. Knowing he'd never be good enough, young enough, smart enough for the pain in the backside which was his DI.
"Bolls?" He slurred "What's wrong?"
"You wouldn't understand…I'm going to my little girls birthday party, I promised."
"Why do you assume I've never had kids." The words slipped out before he could stop them. Shit.
She wasn't going to let it go. He'd have to tell her.
"I had a boy. Thomas. He died. Cot death they said. No-ones fault. Long time ago." He told her gruffly, the memories of his child's beautiful face stabbing at his heart. "And where's this girl you keep banging on about?"
He'd told her, now it was her turn to share.
"She's…with her God-father right now…I can't see her…I have to get home first."
He was too drunk to ask or care where home was. That suited Alex fine. So they sat, silent, lost in memories and drowning their troubles with cheap wine.
The next morning, Gene was shocked to find himself in Alex's flat, was he THAT drunk the night before? He was on the sofa, still fully clothed. That eased him a little, he was glad nothing had happened. Of course, she was gorgeous, but it would hurt too much, she was so out of his league and he knew that he wanted more than one drunken night.
"Bolls?" He asked, his head splitting, he staggered to the kitchen in search of a cold drink.
Alex wasn't there, she must still be in bed. He glanced over to her wall, the wall with her home made calendar, starting from the day she arrived. There were other things too. A newspaper article with Caroline Price's picture, and a number next to it. They were dead now, that day was also marked, but not for that reason, it said "Mum Dad" and a cross. A date of death? The same day as the Price's car bomb exploded leaving little ALEX orphaned?
Gene shook his head, he must still be drunk, thinking silly things like that, making connections in things that didn't need connecting, things that were impossible, always the copper. He dismissed the thought quickly as something else caught his eye. A sketch, not a fantastic work of art, but a quick sketch of a young girl, she looked oddly familiar. Was this Drake's daughter?
A noise made him jump, Alex stood in the doorway, and looked like she had been for a while, she was wearing just a large men's shirt, her slender legs exposed, he gulped, trying not to keep his gaze there too long. He remembered how she had come here, no clothes, no possessions, nothing, just the clothes she stood up in, if you could call them clothes…
"That's her." She said carefully. "And we're going to be late. You may want to change, or there'll be gossip."
She took control. As always. He just nodded and scanned the room for his coat. Pulling it on quickly, he sat down to put on his shoes. To his great surprise, she sat beside him.
"I've been thinking." She said slowly.
"Never a good sign Bolls, you might hurt yourself." He joked, not knowing what else to say.
"I've been thinking…and…" But she never finished the sentence, she leaned her head slowly towards him, she rested her forehead on his, their lips just inches apart. Gene couldn't breathe, his heart raced.
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Thanks for reading, please review. I know there's not much plot yet, I don't even know where I'm going with this one…
