Disclaimer: I own nothing of the fantastic Ashes to Ashes (although series 3 DVD will be mine as soon as humanly possible!) just an overactive imagination that's currently stuck in the 1980s...

This is my second songfic, quite a bit longer than my first one. Let me know what you think. The lyrics are from Call Me by Go West, which I obviously don't own either. Spoilers for 2:8 and tiny bits of 3:1 may have slipped in too but not enough to ruin it if you haven't watched it already. Also minor spoilers for 2:8 of Life on Mars but I its nothing you won't have got from Ashes.

Anyway, hope you enjoy.

Call Me

Face to face

My reflection in your eyes

I was scared to say too much

Alex could feel her heart thumping against her ribs. She knew her skin was flushed pink and every pair of eyes in the office was focused on her but she still couldn't stop herself. She just had to respond. Gene had been deliberately teasing her all day and she'd had just about enough of it.

With her hands on her hips she matched the Guv's confidence stance, raising her chin to meet his challenging stare. His breath on her face was distracting but Alex did her best to try and ignore it. Neither looked away, both refusing to be the first to break.

As CID filed awkwardly out of the room, leaving their two senior officers alone, Ray muttered to Chris and Shaz as they headed for Luigi's.

"Bet she'll end up punching him again; then the next minute she'll be getting her knickers off right there!" Chris laughed but also looked slightly confused, while Shaz glared at DS Carling.

"Don't be disgusting Ray! They're always arguing. Today's no different."

Gene was waiting for Alex to give in, but today she looked particularly determined. His gaze flickered between her bright hazel eyes and her soft, red lips. She really was gorgeous, he thought. Bloody stubborn and a total pain in the arse but... absolutely beautiful. Even when she appeared to be considering slapping him again, Gene still had to stop himself from grabbing her and kissing her. At least that might shut her up – 'might' being the operative word.

Any thoughts of a slick retort had instantly vanished from Alex's mind at the look Gene was currently giving her. What was he thinking? She had no idea, but it was enough to make her melt just being under his burning gaze. Her heart felt like it was leaping up into her throat as his eyes dropped to her mouth briefly before returning to look straight into her. Had she been physically able to speak, Alex still wouldn't have known what to say. One word (the one that always seemed to be on the tip of her tongue these days) however did slip out.

"Gene..."

Perfect strangers in perfect worlds apart

Almost close enough to touch

But a few weeks later and the decreasing distance between them had been suddenly multiplied once more, forcing them apart. One particular investigation, one gun and finally one bullet had ripped her from his world.

Alex was doing her best to keep her mind on Molly but it was impossible not to think about Gene. They had grown so much closer in the months she had been there and, really without her realising it, anything they could have had was gone. 26 years was beyond long distance... and way more complicated. Yet, sometimes, when she was alone – in front of the TV with a glass of wine after Molly had gone to bed, or even just looking in the bathroom mirror – Alex felt like Gene was close by. It was like he was a ghost, just as her daughter had been, except she hadn't managed to catch a glimpse of him.

Alex's dreams were filled with eighties music, red cars and white leather jackets, and, most of all, Gene Hunt. She often woke with a start, the feeling of his arms around her or the sound of his voice or the smell of whiskey and cigarette smoke slipping away like sand through her fingers. Reaching out to the empty space beside her, Alex tried to work out how she could miss something she'd never even had.

Staring at my shoes

Feeling so confused

Shot down without a gun

Victim of a hit and run

"Mum? Mum?!" Molly hurried over to the stove and quickly turned off the saucepan that was threatening to boil over. She touched her mother's arm gently.

"What's wrong mum?"

Alex forced herself out of her daydream and focused on her daughter.

"Sorry Molls, I was... miles away." She smiled apologetically and pulled Molly into a hug as she pushed away the thoughts of Gene that had overwhelmed her. Alex didn't know what was wrong with herself, she couldn't stop thinking about him, about all of them; her friends, her flat, Luigi's, SuperMac, 1982... Everything with Operation Rose had happened so quickly, she had barely had time to process what was going on. At least she had thought of writing those letters, even if Ray, Chris and Shaz had opened them against her instructions. But what about Gene? Had he read it now? Was he thinking about her? Alex felt like part of her was somewhere else... still. It was as if she had been pushed suddenly down a long flight of stairs, knocking the breath out of her, and she was lying at the bottom, but she could still see herself standing at the top. She didn't know which way was up anymore; this was supposed to be what she wanted, being back with her daughter, but Alex couldn't help but wish she was somewhere else. Gene needed her, and she needed him.

Won't you...Call me - call me

No time to hesitate - we must communicate

Call me - call me

Won't you call this number now

Alex had thought about trying to track down her boss; had even started going through the Hunts in the phonebook, but she soon realised that would only make things worse. She missed her Guv. Seeing him as an old man, or discovering that all the booze and the fags had finished him off already would just break her heart, so she had abandoned that idea. If she could only hear his voice, talk to him, maybe she could try and explain what had happened, why she had said and done the things she had.

Not knowing what to do, Alex would sit at home, just thinking about him, remembering, fantasising. And she found herself glancing at the phone as if it might suddenly ring. Every time it did and it wasn't him, she would be disappointed. But it wouldn't stop her from glancing at it again, hoping, praying, wishing that it would ring and this time it would be him calling.

Mesmerised

I go back to where we met

A reconstruction of the crime

Weeks passed slowly and still Alex thought about Gene. One afternoon when Molly was with friends, she let herself out of the house and just started walking. Only when she stopped to rest on a bench did Alex realise where she had ended up.

It was the churchyard off King Douglas Lane; the site of the climax of Operation Rose. Her feet had led her there, acting probably on an impulse from the part of her brain that was filled only with thoughts of Gene, and what had happened here.

Alex looked around at the paving stones, the grass, the walls. It was all exactly the same. It was almost as if she could picture herself in her eighties gear; standing there with Gene and Martin Summers... and Jenette. She remembered screaming at – she wasn't even sure who; God? The surgeon? Her own mind? Begging to be released, to go home. And her wish had been granted.

A cool wind whistled through the courtyard making Alex shiver. She spun around quickly at the tingle across the back of her neck. It felt like someone else was here.

But the place was deserted. Spinning around on one heel Alex stared up at the sky as grey walls blurred past. As the world righted itself once more she looked straight ahead, stepping back at the image that flashed before her eyes.

Alex could see herself lying on the ground, eyes wide in shock, her hands clasped over her side, blood soaking through her shirt and staining the inside of her white leather jacket. She blinked and the picture flickered but the red was bright and clear. Glancing over her shoulder, Alex was convinced she would see the Guv, smoking gun in hand, expression of total shock and horror on his handsome face. But again there was no one.

She closed her eyes, turning her back on the apparition of her dying self to face where she knew Gene had stood, all those weeks – no, years – ago. Alex allowed the memory of him to completely fill her up. The look on his face was one of heartbreak, and she felt like her heart was breaking now; it continued to do so every minute she was without him.

I can't track you down

Nowhere to be found

Now my one shot at success

Is the power of the press

That night Alex barely slept, although that was nothing unusual. Her dreams were occupied with one man. One amazing, gorgeous, brave, kind, decent man that she was irrevocably linked to, despite him being so far away, totally out of her reach. However something was different. Alex's mind, distracted as it was, was hard at work trying to solve that particular problem. She needed Gene, so had decided to do whatever it took to get back to him. Her reliving of the shooting had only served to reawaken Alex's desire to get to what she hoped was still attainable, somehow. She thought back to the letters she had written. He hadn't opened his when the others had, but Alex hoped he had by now. As she continued to toss and turn in the dark, she prayed that maybe her words would be enough for Gene to make contact with her.

Memories of the climax of Operation Rose filled her dreams again. The bullet hadn't been deep, Alex guessed. There was a chance that it hadn't been fatal. If she had survived then she might be in hospital. Gene might even be with her, sitting beside her, waiting for her to be alright. Knowing her luck she'd be in a coma or something...

She clung to the thought that Gene was watching over her, wherever she was, wanting her to get better; wanting her to come back to him.

"I am coming back Gene..." Alex mumbled in her sleep. As she slipped further into her dreams, she prayed that he would read the words she had written and understand how she felt about him. And then maybe when she woke up he would be there, waiting for her.

Won't you...Call me - call me

No time to hesitate - we must communicate

Call me - call me

Won't you call this number now

Worlds apart - we are worlds apart

Alex felt like crying as she awoke in an empty bed, in 2008. She was forced to wipe a few tears away at the thought of Gene being still so far away, but was distracted by the sound of Molly's alarm clock down the hall. Reminding herself that her daughter still needed her, Alex got quickly showered and dressed and went to help her get ready for school.

As Molly left the house, iPod earphones in place, Blackberry in hand and school bag slung over her shoulder, Alex leant against the doorframe, waving goodbye.

"I've got my revision notes mum; I'll text you at lunch after I've aced it. Evan's dropping my tennis stuff off later and I'm going to Susie's after school; Jo's bringing her new Pride and Prejudice DVD. She wore out the old one replaying the classic wet shirt moment."

"Colin Firth?" Alex questioned.

"No, Matthew Macfadyen. Anyway, Susie's mum said we can stay over, so I'll see you tomorrow then?" Alex nodded, smiling.

"Have fun sweetheart."

"You too mum. You can always ring me if you want anything. My contract gives me ten hours of free calls a week after 7pm, and I've got my charger with me so-"

"I'll be fine Molls. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Okay. Oh by the way I rang the gas company, gave them the reading through the automated thingy, so you don't need to worry about that anymore. And Evan said he wants to take us out to dinner at some point, I emailed him the link to that new curry place near him, maybe we could go there next week?"

"Yeah that sounds lovely, thanks. See you later Molly. Love you."

"Love you too mum, bye!"

Alex felt tears well up in her eyes as she closed the front door on her daughter's retreating figure. Molly really was twelve going on thirty-five. She had grown up so fast – she'd been forced to grow up so fast. Their roles seemed to have practically reversed, with Molly acting more like the adult.

It was almost like she didn't need a mother anymore. The thought made Alex feel sick, but it also gave her some hope. Maybe Molly would be okay here if I did go back to Gene. She would have Evan to watch out for her; he would do anything for her, Alex knew that. As much as the idea of leaving her beloved daughter again hurt, it was more painful – an all-consuming, constant pain – being separated from the man she spent all day and night thinking about.

Watch this space

There's a message here for you

No need to read between the lines

If Gene couldn't reach out to her, then Alex had to reach out to him; it was the only way to put things right. As she headed back into the kitchen, Alex spotted the pile of post that Molly had left on the counter for her to sort out and the sight of it gave her an idea. Taking a piece of paper and an envelope she settled down at the table and began to write.

Her first letter to Gene obviously wasn't enough to take her back to him. When she had written it, Alex had been totally focused on the ultimate outcome – getting home to Molly. Her aim had been to reassure him that whatever had happened it would be for the best, that she was back where she needed to be and that Gene shouldn't blame himself. Now however, Alex had changed her mind; typical bloody woman, she could almost hear the Guv complaining. This time she needed to let him know that she still needed him, that she was sorry for what that happened and would do everything in her power to make it right.

Half an hour later, Alex stepped into the reception of the Metropolitan Police Station with the finished letter in a sealed envelope firmly in her hand. Flashing a smile at the officer behind the desk, and making up some excuse, she was let straight through. Everyone in the department knew what had happened to DI Alex Drake and as a result she received numerous sympathetic head nods as her former colleagues passed her in the corridors. Fortunately no one stopped to question her, so Alex soon reached her destination.

The room was empty when she quietly let herself in, shutting the door behind her to have enough privacy for what she needed to do. It hadn't taken long for Alex to work out where Gene's office was in relation to the current station so she was able to find the right place easily now. Scanning the large space, Alex calculated where the little glass box would have been. She approached the Manc Lion's den quickly, looking around for something familiar. It was a long shot, Alex knew that, but something told her that this had to work; there had to be a link here, something joining her with him back in the eighties. Alex pictured the office, the door, walls, blinds, dart board, filing cabinet, chair, desk-

She stopped when she noticed an old wooden desk pushed against one wall in the dim corner. Little else of the office remained; of course the furniture had been moved, the internal walls demolished, but that desk looked... achingly familiar.

Pushing a battered computer chair out of her way, Alex approached it. She ran her fingers over the worn surface, feeling the grooves, the years of use, the stories, and the memories. Alex smiled to herself as she remembered. It was not difficult to imagine Gene sat behind the desk, feet up, his scotch glass in one hand and his cigarette in the other, smoke curling upwards in clouds. She had spent a great deal of time perched on the edge of this very desk; leaning on Gene's computer watching him, or him watching her as they discussed a case, compared theories, or argued over a suspect. They would talk about the team, about work, about Luigi, and about the world in general. Alex would chastise him for his reckless driving, or for his 'fists first questions later' approach, or for the pathetic sexist sideswipes that were constantly directed at her. Gene would complain about her nagging, or about her 'psychiatry', or about the psychological bollocks she was always trying on him.

Wiping away a few tears Alex dragged herself, albeit reluctantly, back to the present. She held the letter in her slightly shaking hand, a finger tracing over the one word she had written on the envelope: Gene. Bringing it to her lips, Alex pressed a light kiss against his name, closing her eyes and praying that her words would reach him. The bottom drawer of the desk was a little stiff but, managing to pull it open, Alex slid the letter inside. She pushed it right to the back and then closed the drawer again.

When this was done, Alex turned and perched on the edge of the desk, the familiar feeling of the wood beneath her fingers providing comfort. She closed her eyes once more and exhaled, hoping that Gene would find the letter soon. After a moment Alex opened her eyes and stood up. She walked across the room away from the desk, not looking back. As she left, Alex prayed that her attempts to communicate with him would succeed, and that the letter would be enough to bring her back to Gene again.

I am inside out

There can be no doubt

I want you and no-one else

Please identify yourself

The next few hours passed torturously slow for Alex. Every moment was spent thinking about Gene; wondering if he'd found the letter in his desk drawer yet, if he'd read it, what he was thinking. She had dated the letter November 1982, the day before Operation Rose, the day before the shooting. Hopefully her words would go a long way to explaining what Gene had heard on that bloody tape, that they would show him how she really felt, what she had been thinking when she had told him about the future. Alex had decided to apologize for all the lies, but thought it best not to refer to it directly. She hoped that, with all else that had happened that day, and subsequently, Gene would have forgotten she had even mentioned it. It was a slim chance, she knew, but there would be no hope for them if he didn't trust her.

With Molly still out at school and off to her friend's house later, Alex sat at home on her own, curled up on the sofa. The TV was on but as usual she wasn't watching it, staring blankly around the empty room, her thoughts preoccupied by him. Gene Hunt, always that man, always in her head.

Feeling permanently drained, Alex slept restlessly, her brain switching between two realities; the one around her and the one inside her mind... and it was the latter that felt the most real. The weight of the blanket across her shoulder was barely noticeable, and the television could have been off for all the impact the images and sounds had on her. Alex wasn't aware of the warmth of the sofa cushions underneath her or the smell of tea from the untouched mug on the coffee table. She was numb. Numb to everything in this world. The current absence of her daughter made it difficult for Alex to picture Molly's face. It was as though the moment the little girl had stepped out of the front door, walking down the road to school, she had faded from her mother's consciousness. As much as she struggled, Alex couldn't remember what Molly looked like, and she had only seen her this morning. Tears came easily after this painful realisation, and even more so because the faces of Gene, Ray, Chris and Shaz came all too effortlessly.

Eventually, Alex managed to cry herself to sleep. This time instead of jumbled images and memories of the eighties flashing before her eyes, she found herself in a familiar room. Alex knew she was dreaming; the slightly faded palette made this clear, and although the space was dimly lit, she recognised it immediately. She was in Gene's office. But she was alone. Just as Alex considered looking in the drawer to see if the letter was still there, there was a loud bang behind her as the door blind snapped upwards. Peering through the glass, she could clearly see the rest of the office, bathed in a warm glow. The sight of CID working (well one of them anyway) warmed her heart. Alex smiled as she watched conscientious Shaz with her head down, typing away; Chris and Ray chucking screwed-up bits of paper at each other while the others laughed.

Touching the door handle cautiously, not wanting the beautiful picture to disappear, Alex was relieved as the warmth she could see on the other side spread quickly into her fingers and up her arm. Reassured, she pushed open the door and stepped over the threshold. No one seemed to notice her. Well this was a dream, she told herself. As the door closed behind her the light seemed to dim slightly, the figures of Shaz and the others dissolving into the gloom.

Alex let out a breath as suddenly the double doors opened and Gene Hunt came striding in. He was, she was pleased to note, in clear focus, and looking as gorgeous as she remembered. His long coat moved as if by an imaginary breeze, and his eyes looked right into her. She froze as he walked towards her, closing her eyes at the last moment. When she opened them again he was gone, but turning around Alex smiled to herself again as she watched him step into his office.

Following him quickly, Alex found herself alone with him. She didn't take her eyes off him, but if she had glanced away, looking out through the door, all she would have seen was blackness. The image of the outer office had completely vanished, leaving simply the Lion's den, lit by that same warm glow which now appeared to emanate from Gene himself.

The Guv settled behind his desk and Alex took up her usual position across from him, relishing the feeling of being this close to him, even if it wasn't entirely real. Soon, she told herself, soon I will be back with him and it will be real again.

Alex watched as he poured himself a drink, lit a cigarette and glanced at a few papers scattered over the desk. She watched him read and make the occasional note, muttering to himself. Whenever he put down his whiskey glass Alex would reach out and run her forefinger across the rim before bringing her hand to her lips, tasting him. Since it was a dream she couldn't actually taste the whiskey but she knew the flavour so well that Alex could easily imagine it. She could almost feel the liquid burning down her throat, how the sensation was welcomed after a long day or a difficult case. Alex imagined how it would feel to have Gene's lips pressed against hers instead of the glass. The fact that she was so close to him made the idea even more appealing.

She had practically forgotten why she was actually here until Gene began rummaging through the bottom drawer of his desk. Alex felt her heart begin to beat faster as he looked through the pile of files and folders he had stored in there, lifting them out and landing them in front of him. Her hopes were fading fast as Gene paused, retrieving the file he was obviously looking for, but without having found the letter. She felt her heart drop down into her stomach; it hadn't worked, the letter wasn't here.

Suddenly, Gene reached back into the drawer, having apparently just spotted something. Alex's face broke into a wide smile as she realised what it was. Silently thanking her amazing brain for that particular idea, Alex continued to watch as her boss studied it. He stared at the word on the front, his name written in what was unmistakably Alex's handwriting. Gene traced the letters with his finger, just as Alex had done. Looking slightly confused, but intrigued, he tore it open and unfolded the letter inside it.

Alex's eyes caressed Gene's face as he read her words. His expression was guarded. He didn't look angry, she thought, but it was impossible to know exactly what he was thinking. Alex had to stop herself from reaching out and touching him, desperate not to break the spell but finding it difficult being so close without him knowing she was there.

Gene finished reading and folded the letter back up, sliding it back into its envelope. He didn't return it to the drawer though, simply left it on the desk in front of him. His head was bent as he looked at it, obviously processing what he had read.

"Gene..." Alex spoke without thinking, but Gene didn't look up. Feeling the warmth and light fading rapidly, dragging her away from him, back to the waking world, the real but numb world, Alex laid her hand briefly on his where it lay beside her letter as she voiced what she had felt for so long but had never told him.

"I love you..."

Call me - call me

No time to hesitate - we must communicate

Call me - call me

Won't you call this number now

Alex woke with a start. It took a few moments before her racing heart had returned to normal. The dream had seemed so real, more real than anything she had felt since that very real pain of the bullet. It was reassuring, Alex decided as she got up and switched the television off, that Gene had appeared so vividly and solidly. And he had found the letter, her heartbroken words stretching across time to reach him, hopefully securing the link between them once more.

The day had all but gone, lost in the gloom of her situation. A glance at the clock told her it was nearly ten in the evening. Alex stood by the window, thinking, staring out at the deserted road, the cold glass soothing against her flushed skin. Gene had read the letter, yet she was still here – what did that mean? Maybe he didn't understand... maybe he didn't care... maybe he didn't feel the same way... Alex was only partially aware of the tears wetting her cheeks, her hot breath clouding the glass. The sight of the dark, empty street outside, devoid of life only served to remind her of how alone she was – or how unreachable the man she loved was – which felt like the same thing. Turning her back on the window, Alex slid down the wall, bringing her knees up and resting her head in her arms. Her face hidden, the sobs muffled but the pain was no less apparent. She whispered his name over and over like a mantra, gasping through the tears, trying to hold on to him, remembering, thinking, wishing... The Gene Genie... her Manc Lion... Gene...

The chill from the wooden floor soon crept unbidden into her bones, the temperature in the empty house dropping lower as Alex cried herself further into the dark. She curled up uncomfortably on the floor, having neither the strength nor the willpower to reach the sofa. As had been the case in the eighties, she had taken to sleeping there because the bed carried too many memories, despite her spending most of the time in it alone. Alex told herself the dreams were less bad when she spent the night away from the bedroom, but in reality it made little difference.

The vague recollections of her daughter and godfather had long since slipped from her mind. When Alex woke from more broken dreams an hour later, shivering, she knew she was utterly alone. There was no one in this world who could even begin to compare to Gene Hunt. She struggled to recognise what was up and what was down anymore, let alone tell reality from fantasy. But Alex realised she no longer cared. All she wanted was to be back with Gene. As she lay on the cold floor, curled up in a foetal position, longing for comfort, her heart ripped open, she realised that being back home, where she was 'supposed to be' shouldn't hurt this much. If this was real then why did it feel like she was dying? The only thing that mattered, the only thing that was real was him. Alex knew she had to get back to Gene; he was the only person who could put her back together again, to make her feel real, because none of this did. She needed him.

Struggling to her feet, Alex leant against the wall for a moment, closing her eyes in the darkness, waiting for the head rush to pass. At last she was able to find the front door in the pitch black, but she froze, suddenly feeling like she was forgetting something. Alex's trembling fingers eventually found the light switch on the wall. Her eyes burned at the brightness, having spent so long in the dark. Retrieving an old envelope and a pen from the side, Alex rested them on the kitchen counter and took a deep breath before writing three small words. The letters were a little messy to start with as her hands were still shaking, but at least it was legible. I Love you.

It was just in case. Alex wasn't sure why she had written that, or who the message was for, but it just felt like it needed to be done. Just in case. The person – or people – the words were intended for would hopefully understand, and everything would be alright again.

With another breath and one last look at the note, Alex switched the lights off, plunging the house into darkness once more as she closed the front door behind her.

London was busy that night, like most nights, but as Alex made her way to that fateful place, she barely noticed anyone else. There were a few tourists dotted along the South Bank, taking in the city at night, people on their way home from a late dinner, and students milling around the pubs and clubs nearby. Alex passed unnoticed, stopping only when she reached her destination.

She had been thinking a lot about Sam Tyler ever since she had left Gene and the others. His face often featured in her dreams of the eighties; his connection with the Guv, and Sam's connection with her. They were linked, they were the same. She had been shocked and saddened upon first reading his file and listening to particular recordings he had made since returning to this world. And that was what made Alex so sure now that she was doing the right thing. Sam had done this and had succeeded in getting back to Annie, Gene, Ray and Chris... back to the people he loved, the world he belonged in. Now Alex was going to do the same thing.

There weren't many people on the Millennium Bridge when she jumped. Alex had become like a ghost, wandering across London in a trance, as if in a dream. As she plummeted down the cold, dark water rushed up to meet her, like that bracing shower first thing in the morning to wake you up, that's all it was. Alex was sick of this nightmare and was ready to wake up now. She didn't hold her breath when she jumped, relishing the sense of freedom and release that she hadn't felt in... well about 26 years actually. Opening her eyes as the freezing water whirled around her, Alex allowed the force of it to pull her down, finding it surprisingly easy to resist the instinct to struggle, to fight it. She didn't want to fight it. This was the right thing. Finally she was going home.

The roar of the Thames was deafening, swirling wildly around her as the coldness began to vanish. Alex could hear a voice, distorted by the water, calling her name. She twisted awkwardly in all directions, searching for the source.

"Alex... Bolly... Bols... Alex... Alex..."

Her heart practically leapt out of her mouth as she realised it was Gene. As the noise of her surroundings began to fade, the voice got louder, closer, and the space was getting lighter and warmer. Her name echoed down from somewhere above her head. Alex kicked hard in the water, her body aching with fatigue and drained of all energy but still she pushed, desperate to reach it. She struggled up towards the bright light, the water warming her, giving her strength. Gene's voice was becoming clearer the closer she got.

"Alex... come on Bols, wake up... We need yer... Wakey wakey Drakey... Come on you weren't that shot... Come back to me Alex, I need yer... It's you and me Bolly, we're a team... You can't leave me 'ere... Please Alex, wake up... Come back to me love..."

Still Alex forced herself upwards, his words spurring her on.

"I need you Alex... Need you to wake up and come back to me... I read that letter Bolly... You're a cheeky bloody tart yer know, sneaking into me office an' going through me drawers... But I 'ppreciate it Bols... I need yer to wake up so I can... apologize. And the Gene Genie never apologizes so ya need to be awake to witness such a rare event! Should have told you... I'm no good at any of this stuff but... like I said before, I though we were the ones... the connection between us... I see now it wasn't just me imagining it, it was real, cos you felt it too... so, come back to me Alex..."

Alex closed her eyes, her body exhausted. It was dark and she felt like she was floating. What a strange dream...

The room was light now and she could hear a familiar voice. Gene. As the feeling in her numb limbs quickly returned, Alex realised she was lying in a bed. Still unable to move or open her eyes, she simply lay there, listening. She could feel warm hands encasing her own, fingers stroking her skin tenderly, palms pressed together. It felt nice. As Gene stopped talking she heard him shift his chair closer to her side. The hand above hers moved away but the other remained holding on securely. Alex's heart skipped as soft warm lips touched her knuckles briefly before Gene raised a hand to her face. His fingers caressed her jaw line as a thumb ghosted over her cheek.

Her heart was beating so loudly Alex was surprised that he couldn't hear it. But apparently he couldn't. She lay there, still unmoving as his lips pressed lightly to her skin again, this time on the corner of her mouth. Alex was unable to open her eyes but she knew Gene was still close because of his warm breath on her face. He bent his head and kissed her on the lips. The first was quick; the second time he lingered, unwilling to pull away despite the lack of response. Just as she felt he was about to break the kiss, Alex summoned the strength to squeeze his hand as she kissed him back.

After a moment Gene pulled away. Alex opened her eyes, drinking in the sight of him. They looked at each other, her hand still enclosed in his.

"Alex-" He started. She interrupted him.

"I know."

Her beautiful hazel eyes were bright and a tired smile graced her lips. She squeezed his hand once more, reassuring him that everything was alright. Gene kissed her again, relishing the response, the feel of her warm, heart beating, alive. And the fact that she seemed happy, glad to be back with him, that she wanted him to stay was more than he had been hoping for.

Alex lifted her other arm; her side was a little sore but the pain was bearable... everything was bearable now she was back with Gene. She slid her hand across his shoulder and round the back of his neck, pulling him down to her, needing him closer. Whatever they now had to deal with, whatever was thrown at them, Alex knew they would be okay, because they were together.

The most important thing was she was where she belonged... in this world, this time, and right now, in Gene Hunt's arms. She had made it home.