Disclaimer: I own nothing of the fantastic Ashes to Ashes, except my ideas.
Okay this is a one-shot twisting the conversation between Jim and Alex in 3:7 (it's not as if I'm obsessed with that episode or anything...) so spoilers. And how exciting was it that the BBC trailer thingy for TV in 2010/2011 kicked off with a tantalising reminder of Ashes goodness? I got so excited when I saw that! The almost and then actual Galex kiss was definitely a highlight for me... Anyway, enough of my rambling, enjoy.
Turn To Red
"It's about being the solution to a problem, a despicable problem... or being part of the problem itself."
Alex swallowed nervously, Keats advancing on her now. Her thoughts switched momentarily back to Gene, in his office. The look in Jim's eyes was making Alex begin to regret following the DCI here, she should have stayed with Gene instead.
"Well... what is it to be Alex?" Jim asked her. Her back was only a foot from the door now, and Keats was prowling closer to her.
"Gene's not the problem here." Alex told him defiantly, meeting his hungry gaze, trying to conceal her discomfort. "He's one of the good guys."
"You choosing him over me, hmm?" She was backed against the door now. Jim's breath was hot on her face.
Alex exhaled, her lips forming a single word, the sound escaping in a puff of air. It instantly dispelled into the heated atmosphere of Keats' fetid office as his eyes narrowed. The anger seemed to be coming off him in waves; Alex felt a flicker of fear stirring in the pit of her stomach.
"What?" Jim spat at her, although he knew her choice had been made, a long time ago.
"Yes." Alex repeated, louder this time and with more confidence. "I am."
"You stupid woman!" Keats snarled, slamming his hand into the filing cabinet at Alex's side. She recoiled, shocked at how suddenly his mood had changed, and how dramatic the change had been.
Alex groped urgently for the door handle, not daring to take her eyes off Keats. Images of him pushing her roughly back against the door in a fit of rage flitted across Alex's vision; his fist making contact with her face, or worse, his lips with hers, his hands ripping the clothes from her body, his anger and lust and jealousy spiralling out of control.
She watched in horror as Jim landed another punch to the metal drawer of his filing cabinet.
"Do you not see what he has done to you? He has corrupted you! Poisoned you! All of you!"
Jim turned from her and kicked out viciously, blindly. His desk chair quickly hit the other cabinet across the room. Alex stared, hypnotised as Keats continued to destroy his own office. Pen pots, in-trays and various stacks of files scattered across his nylon floor tiles as, in one swift movement, Jim upended the desk, surprising Alex with his strength. The bottle of whiskey and single glass that had been previously resting on its surface, soon found themselves heading in Alex's direction at a considerable speed. Having located the handle mere seconds ago, Alex pulled the door open, threw herself out into the corridor and slammed it shut behind her.
Not wanting Keats to follow her out, Alex hurried back towards CID. Only when she glanced down did she discover the cause of the stinging in her hand. A shard or two of glass from the whiskey bottle had obviously grazed her skin in the few seconds she'd been struggling with the door. Her knuckles on one hand were bleeding quite a bit. It was only a couple of minor cuts but the adrenaline was evidently pumping her blood faster, so more of it was pulsing out of the wound and dribbling down her wrist and fingers.
A noise behind her made Alex turn. For one moment she imagined Keats charging after her, but the corridor was deserted. Hurrying on, glancing intermittently over her shoulder and desperate to reach the bathroom so she could get cleaned up, Alex didn't notice the figure blocking her path until she ran straight into him.
"Bloody 'ell Bols, where's the fire?" Gene asked as he held her steady while she regained her balance. She looked up at him guiltily, hoping he didn't guess where she'd come from; he didn't like her talking to Jim Keats. Feeling his gaze on her, Alex hastily covered her bleeding hand with the other so Gene wouldn't see. Unfortunately for her, his eyes were quick, and his reflexes were even quicker.
"What's this Alex?" His hand lifted her wrist up for him to inspect, his fingers soft and gentle as he examined the cuts.
"It's nothing. Just an accident..." She lied.
With his free hand, Gene tugged a clean handkerchief from his pocket and wrapped it round her knuckles to stem the steady flow of blood.
"Come on, let's get you sorted out Bolly." Gene's hand on her back gave her no choice but to let him guide her back to CID. Together they crossed to the kitchen where Gene set about cleaning and bandaging her hand, glancing over at her all the while.
"Thanks Gene." She murmured once he had finished. Gene didn't move, still holding her hand loosely in both of his, their palms pressed together, his fingers smoothing the white of the bandage, letting her know they weren't done.
"You gonna talk ter me now Alex?" He asked quietly. She lifted her head to look at him shyly.
"About what?" Her voice was quieter still.
His fingers slid down to her wrist, away from the sore knuckles, as he pulled her closer to him where he was leaning against the table.
"You know what."
"It's nothing. It's all done now anyway, all out in the open. No going back."
"Was it Keats?"
Alex turned her head away. Gene's grip tightened.
"His office. You and him..."
"Gene-"
"What was it, lover's tiff?" He sounded angry, disappointed, hurt. Yet, he still hadn't let go of her hand.
"Gene don't-"
"Did he do it?"
"No."
"Don't lie ter me Alex."
"I'm not." She said calmly, meeting his eyes again. "He got angry, that's all. I don't think it was deliberate."
"What were you doing in there?" Gene too sounded calmer now.
"We were talking about the case and- nothing."
"The case and 'nothing'?" He raised his eyebrows at her answer.
"And Sam Tyler." Gene fell silent so Alex pressed on carefully. "He thinks you killed Sam, Gene. I made it clear that I didn't believe it, that I was on your side, not his. Judging by the damage he then proceeded to inflict upon his office I'm guessing he didn't like hearing me say that."
"So nothing else happened? He didn't try and... do anything?" Gene checked. "He didn't hurt you?"
Alex shook her head.
"No, he didn't. I don't think his furniture was so lucky though. I doubt any of that will escape unscathed." She smiled, making light of the situation.
"You didn't exactly escape unscathed though, did you Bolly." His fingers brushed lightly across her bandaged knuckles.
"It's just a cut, I've had worse." Alex cursed internally as Gene's face fell; she knew he was thinking of the Operation Rose shooting and the resultant bullet wound in her side.
"Maybe you can kiss it better for me later..?" She suggested, her free hand resting on his chest, her fingers curling inside the front of his jacket as she leant closer to him. The intimacy between them restored, Gene smiled back, lifting her hand to his mouth and pressing a soft kiss to her fingers, just below the bandage across her knuckles.
Alex's heart skipped as his lips brushed her bare skin – even if it was only her hand. The anticipation they were both feeling for their 'date' increased tenfold; the connection they shared was practically visible, crackling like electricity in the air around them, sparks of white hot light where their skin touched.
"Want ter kiss you now Alex." Gene murmured. Alex gripped his jacket tighter, longing to simply pull him down to her, to feel his lips against hers, at last.
"I know." She whispered in reply. The look in her hazel eyes conveyed clearly what she was not saying. I want to kiss you too, Gene, so much. Instead she said; "Later..."
The noise level was rising again out in the main office, and by the sounds of it their private conversation would not remain so for very long. The last dregs of CID were leaving for the night. With a quick glance over her shoulder to check Ray and Chris weren't about to come blundering in, Alex turned back to Gene. She removed her hand from his and pressed her fingers to her lips. The ghost of a kiss, a hint, a taste, brushed Gene's lips before her fingers were gone, and with a smile that held in it a promise, she slipped away.