Disclaimer: We do not own Ashes to Ashes.
A/N: This is a joint fanfic between me and AshesSweetieDarling. Enjoy!
Summary: When Gene is kidnapped during a holiday abroad, no amount of psychology can help Alex understand the psychopath's motive.

Chapter One

Alex was stood in CID, hands on hips and a serious expression on her face which meant 'don't mess with me'. She coughed deliberately, clearing her throat to gain their attention.

"Are any of you going to do some work today or are you all planning on just sitting on your arses all day until it's time to slip off?" She questioned, not amused. "Just because the Guv isn't here, doesn't mean you can get away with slacking"

Ray reluctantly put his magazine down. "Go murder somebody and we'll see shall we?"

Alex sighed, as Chris walked heavily towards the door, dragging his feet along as if it was an effort. "There are still things that could be done!" Alex protested, trying to infuse some enthusiasm into the team but proving herself unsuccessful. "Fine! I'll just have to re-imagine you all then!" She muttered bitterly, taking refuge in Gene's office.

She slammed the door, taking a seat behind his desk and producing one of his hidden bottles of scotch and pouring herself a glass.

2 more days…

Hygiene was definitely an issue. He could deal with the hunger, the irritation of the rope against his wrists, but the one thing that he couldn't stomach was the smell coming off his skin and the stubble that was slowly creeping onto his face. He longed for a bath, the smell of denim for men as he poured gallons of it on him and more importantly A SHAVE.

Something else was bugging Gene more than the hygiene issue, the fact that he couldn't remember how he had ended up here. Sure the purpose of being in a foreign country was clear, the super had 'kindly' suggested that the Guv take a year's sabbatical the job was stressful and sure Alex could handle it. So Gene had decided to take the opportunity to soak up some sun or as he had gladly put it end up sizzling like a burnt sausage, unfortunately as soon as he entered the country it was pissing it down. Then it went black…

Chris dragged the weightless body down the alleyway and hauled the corpse into the big dustbin with much effort. A trail of thick, crimson blood was following him and touched the heels of his shoes. Slamming it shut, he walked back to CID, a satisfied smile on his face

It was on her desk when she re-entered CID. A videotape, the side labelled in bold, black letters:

FENCHURCH.

Flipping it over in both her hands, she wondered what it contained. Another hostage? Another demand? Still, it was something that the team could get their teeth into – just in time for Gene coming back.

She slotted it into the video player, shouting for Ray and the others to gather round and watch. She flicked the channel from BBC News to AV, only managing to catch a glimpse of the news report about a body found in an alleyway. As the screen flickered and the tape began, Alex's eyes widened and something began to pull at her heart strings, plucking them cruelly and making her feel physically sick…

Anger was a feeling that came natural to Gene Hunt; he had experienced it many a time, sometimes several times a day; however he had never felt anger like this. To be fair, it was a build-up of anger, he was already pissed off that his personal hygiene was compromised, and now they were making him make a video – a hostage video. Before this demand, he was quite happy pretending that this was the result of a dodgy sex encounter gone wrong. You know the type, a random woman who finds out you're a copper and decides to bring you down a peg or two by tying you up and pissing off with your clothes. What Gene didn't like was that he would now be classed as a 'victim' a 'hostage' and he was going to be exposed in front of his whole team – with stubble!

'Keep it short and sweet, read from the card and no funny business, you let any detail about where you are slip and we'll kill you on the spot and then we'll send it to them.'

Gene grunted. The camera clicked on and it was Gene talking to his team. He coughed to clear his throat and a cool calm collective tone sounded out – always the professional.

'So yeah they're keeping me here aren't they, dirty bastards they won't even let me shower. You see this Bols, this is the side to me you don't see I'm in fear of losing that attractive air of mystery aren't I?'

'JUST READ OFF THE CARD.'

'Yeah, yeah sorry 'bout that… actually why am I apologising to scum like you… you want to know where I am Bols, it's not exactly rocket science what's the accent that'll give yer summit to work with.'

The screen went blank, Gene had gone too far.