A/N: Here at BiboErgoSum inc. we just lurve cliff hangers! By the way don't nag for chapter 3, it's not written, not even a scrap of an idea on the back of a fag packet if we're honest. For all we know this could end with Alex joining a convent and Gene deciding to dedicate his life following Val Doonican where ever he goes...
Thanks for all the reviews and to our beta Bronze Cortina.
Disclaimer: We own nothing... (honest, really we don't. I'm between jobs and thingy over there is an impoverished art student.)
Her anger clouded her aim and the first boot missed him, sailing wide of the mark and hitting the plant that stood in the corner of the room. The second was a little closer to her target, flying over the top of his head and hitting the picture hanging above him. The glass shattered and showered him in a thousand glittering shards.
In an instant Gene leapt to his feet, eyes blazing in indignant anger. He turned squaring up to face her, across the room. Alex's eyes darkened as she mirrored his actions and challengingly held his gaze. Gene was barely able to control the night's anger and frustration any longer and it erupted in a thunderous explosion.
"For Christ's sake woman - what you tryin' to do? Slit my bloody throat!?"
Cuttingly she fired back her retort, her voice as sharp as the broken glass. "Don't bloody tempt me Hunt!"
Gene didn't flinch, not once did his obdurate exterior slip as he held her with his icy gaze and spoke in a voice edged with steel. "Let me remind you Detective Inspector Drake I am your senior officer!"
Continuing to mirror him Alex tried to match her voice to his but failed miserably. "Well why don't you bloody act like it then! One of your officers is in hospital and all you can do it sit on my sofa, uninvited and get drunk!" As her tirade continued it rose in volume, as did the colour in her cheeks. "Christ Gene, you just don't get it do you? DO YOU?"
"Get what?" He questioned her half knowing the answer. Alex's look became incredulous and she shook her head breaking eye contact for the first time they had exchanged words since he entered the flat. His gaze had remained unwavering through out their verbal sparring; to look away now would give her the unthinkable, absolute control.
"Oh no, I get it now, my fault again! Tell me how the bloody hell is this my fault?!" Gene began to feel her inexorable insolence cracking his veneer of composure; his voice began to rise again.
Alex raised her eyes to his again with contempt written all over her face. "Oh just sod off, Gene Hunt." Emphasising his name with the customary finger waggle, he flexed his fists, grinding out his response.
"I've told you, don't wiggle your soddin' fingers when you say my name."
Alex snorted with derision and looked away again. "I've had enough of you to last a life time, however long that might be." Alex darkly muttered the last sentiment to herself. "I think it best you leave before one of us says something we might regret."
"No! I'm bloody not going! And I'll ask you again, only slightly louder. How is it my fault?!" Gene roared at her, his anger reached new heights as he again locked eyes awith her, the ice of his competing with the fire of hers. Momentarily he was distracted with the vision of her so wanton and beautiful. He was dragged back to stark reality as her reply crashed through his fantasising.
Alex couldn't ignore the gauntlet that he'd thrown down; the man that stood rivalling her was far too much of an attractive and worthy adversary. Alex stood matching him in every way; she advanced on him, emphatically jabbing at the air as she unleashed her pent up rage. "You let your anger get the better of you. You let it take over! You brought it on yourself. You let your fists do the talking. You threatened the Ska boys. You beat them up. You let Chris lash out at a cuffed Hollis. That's how Gene!" Both their ears were left ringing from the force of their voices and for a moment the flat was deathly silent
He felt his blood grow cold in his veins as the truth of her words registered. Regardless of the veracity of her words he couldn't, wouldn't let her have the last say. Especially as she had refused to see the impossibility of his situation; he'd been stuck between a rock (the Superintendent) and her (a hard place.) Christ if he'd lost his job he was sure he could've waltzed into a job as a tightrope walker. He focused again on her as he continued to slowly advance, she stared as he dropped his tone to a menacing growl and stood facing her.
"And what was I meant to do - let the investigation dry up on a high profile case, puttin' another nail in my coffin? You'd really like that wouldn't you Drake, well you got it anyway getting' me suspended and making a fool of me on TV. And what about Chris? Christ I've known him since he first joined the force, am I meant to turn to him and say 'Sorry old boy this chap may have just left your lovely girlfriend dead in a pool of blood but i can't let you have a pop at him, now off you go and remember keep a stiff upper lip!' I couldn't, Alex - he loved her and for all he knew he'd lost her, do you know how that feels to look down on the one person you love and see their life slip away from them? DO YOU!?" His anger had erupted with such intensity again that as he finished shouting at he felt himself shaking with fury.
Alex stood for a moment letting the surrounding air settle; she swore that she saw the air ripple with the force of his voice. Slowly the meaning of his words trickled into her consciousness, and felt her ire swell as she questioned what Gene Hunt know of love and loss, how could he? He was just a boorish, arrogant fool. He'd never watch anyone slip away from him into oblivion. Alex felt waves of emotion flood over her; she thought of her mother and father and the looming prospect of loosing them again and then her mind turned to her darling Molly. As the tears stung at her eyes she angrily she picked up the glass of wine downing half the glass in one. Facing Gene again she was met with his stony glare and no longer could she could hold back.
"Oh, don't make this about something as grand as love." In her aggression she zealously waved her glass around, not bothering to maintain eye contact. "This is this about your Alpha male ego, pure and simple." For a moment she paused and recaptured his eyes, mercilessly she held them to emphasis the fact she was most definitely talking of him. Turning away she continued, "I wasn't the one who ignored my briefing notes and I wasn't the one who behaved like a thug and got myself suspended."
A renewed wave of anger that crashed over Gene was so powerful he almost felt swepted outside of his body. His voice rose back up to it's deafening pitch but sounded a million miles away to him as all he could think of was that it was all for her, everything always was, there never was a moment when it wasn't. He listened to himself, unable to stop the words tumbling out.
"No but you did take great pleasure in displaying my downfall in front of that left wing harpy Caroline Price and her prize lapdog! Suppose you'll be blaming me for Shaz getting stabbed, that I should have been the one chasing Hollis and not her."
Alex looked at him blankly; why didn't he understand? Oh what was the bloody point of explaining when he couldn't see for a second that she was trying to survive just like him? She stared into the glass and swirled the remaining liquid before she gulped it down in a single mouthful, slamming the glass on the table. She continued the advance he'd started, echoing him in mood and movement.
"What if you hadn't thrown your weight around like you always do and gotten yourself suspended. What if you'd listened to someone else for a change then maybe you wouldn't have screwed up the appeal or the case. What if you had treated Hollis with respect, he wouldn't have been waving that gun around at Luigi's and maybe just maybe Shaz wouldn't have chased him and ended up in hospital tonight fighting for her life! Christ Gene - open your eyes and for once use your head instead of your fists for once! What if…"
They stood, their bodies were separated by familiar inches, her chest heaved and her body trembled with the force of the argument. Her mind swirled with half remembered images and flashes of 2008. What if the bomb hadn't been planted by whichever sick individual had wanted her parents dead? What if her mother hadn't had that affair with Evan? What if she'd ignored the call on that fateful morning, driving Molly to school instead? The realisation dawned on her, rooting her to the spot. It rendered her deaf, dumb and blind to her surroundings and to her company. Would she have wanted to miss out on being shot? To have missed out on being with Gene, and to have felt, so much more alive than she'd ever felt back in the 21st century? It was all too much to comprehend.
Gene leant forward and whispered in her ear. "What if what, Bolly?"
As he stood and waited for her response he held his breath, trembling inside with equal measures of anticipation and panic as to the endless possibilities of her reply. He hadn't a clue what he wanted anymore, from the reply, from her, from tonight.
Moments passed, as Alex lost herself in a whirlwind of thoughts. Gene snorted in derision to disguise the bewilderingly and unnerving array of emotions that surfaced whenever he was close to his DI. Taking a deep breath he pushed down the pain that radiated from somewhere in the vicinity of his heart. When no answer was forthcoming he suddenly felt his age, exhaustion and defeat engulfing him. It wasn't supposed to end like this, not that he'd known how he wanted to end it, but this was the worst possible way and he was no longer sure if he was solely referring to the argument. The only chink of light at the end of the tunnel was to walk away, admit defeat and accept the end had come, of tonight or the end of his reign, he didn't know.
'The king is dead, long live the king!'
Or in this case should it be Queen? He picked up his boots, his limbs feeling heavily uncoordinated with all the adrenalin that coursed through his body. Not bothering to look at her as he left, as he knew the pain of leaving might shatter beyond restoration his fragile ego, or would that be heart? He didn't know anymore. Heading for the door he longed for the sweet release from the nightmare images that played over and over in his mind.
Alex grabbed him, his whispered words having reached her ears. She ripped his boots from his hands and threw them to the floor. Before he could attempt another escape bid her hands became flesh manacles around his wrists. Spinning him to face her she felt only determination to reach the night's nameless goal.
"Oh no you don't, we're going to finish this! You started this, you followed me up here and now you want to leave? No! I say when it's over, when you can walk away!"
For a moment he was dumbfounded; all he was aware of were Alex's hands and the heat of her touch spreading through out his body, reawakening the Manc Lion inside.
Leaning in, so close to her ear she could feel his breath scorch her skin, she felt rather than heard him growl "Let go, DI Drake, wouldn't want me making another mistake would we now?"
The word 'mistake' echoed in her head. Unable to grasp the meaning, Alex subconsciously loosened her grip and looked at him questioningly. The familiar and unquantifiable tension created from elation, trepidation and being utterly alive arced between them, bright sparks in the dark of the nightmare.
Sensing her momentary loss of concentration Gene took advantage; slipping from the now ineffectual handcuffs he reversed their roles. Now he held her wrists, his lips having never moved from her ear.
"Or what if this is one mistake you want me to make, Alex?"
His words were like an electric shock to Alex's soul; she futilely pulled back unable to escape from her restraints. She was unable to tear herself from the depths of his gaze. They say that the eyes are the windows to the soul and for that eternal moment Gene's soul was illuminated for Alex to see. Powerless to look away from the unrelenting gaze her body and mind stammered. "What do you mean?"
Gene incapable of controlling his mind and body leant in intoxicated by her. Taking up again his position next to her ear, they were almost as close as the frightening moments in the bar. He could only whisper, "What if I kissed you?"
She drew back and for a moment they stood facing each other, neither willing to concede defeat, nor to claim sweet victory.
To be continued...
