Thanks to everyone who reviewed the first chapter.

For Lisa-McG-200413 and artemis, who requested I continue this. I hadn't intended on writing another chapter for this, but after their kind words I decided to have a go.

Disclaimer: I still don't own Ashes to Ashes; it is still the property of Kudos, Monastic and the BBC.

Alex stood frozen in the doorway, clutching the photographs. Keats had left a few moments earlier, though she had barely noticed, so consumed was she by the wave of bewilderment, horror and confusion. Looks like we found our grave. His words reverberated in her head. It couldn't be, could it?

Her throat felt dry, constricted, like she couldn't breathe. All she knew was that she had to get out of there, had to get some air. On autopilot, she grabbed her coat and walked out of the door, not bothering to close it behind her.

The cold night air felt like pinpricks on her face, numbing her skin, as she hurried down the alley, not paying attention to where she was going, completely devoid of coherent thought, the photographs still in her hand. She didn't know how long she'd been walking for when she reached the river, it may have been minutes, could have been hours. Stopping at the railings and looking over, down into the water, she gasped, taking a huge lungful of air, as she tried to quell the nausea in her stomach and hold back the tears that she knew would come like a flood. It was futile, as she let out an almighty sob before sinking to the ground in tears, crying for herself, for Sam, for the daughter she feared she'd never see again.

All cried out, Alex looked around her, there was no-one. Not a single soul. As she had often felt in this world, she was alone.

For the first time since she had left her flat, she looked down at the photographs, hastily placing the one of the farmhouse at the back of the pile, in the same way that she tried to put the thought of what it might mean to the back of her mind. Instead she focussed on the one of Sam and Annie, looking at their smiling faces, willing them to give her some inkling as to what she should do.

"What really happened to you, Sam? Is this really why I'm here? If I find out what happened, can I get home to Molly?" she whispered, a silent tear tracking its way down her cheek and onto the photo.

The next photo was of Ray and Gene, standing by a Ford Cortina. They both looked happy, certainly happier than Alex had ever seen them, like neither of them had a care in the world. She realised how much Gene must have changed since Sam. Despite what Litton had said about him going soft, the 80s Gene Hunt was harder. He'd had to be. And yet, she doubted that 70s Gene was as tender as his 80s self. Tender, a word she never thought she would associate with Gene. Alex had come to learn that he was many things, a mass of contradictions. Hard as nails, yet caring; honest, yet evasive.

It was his evasiveness that had led her down this path. His refusal to give her the answers she so desperately needed. He'd burned evidence, obstructed her investigation, yet the question still burned in Alex's mind; could he really have killed his best friend? All the evidence seemed to point that way and yet Alex couldn't help but think it had to be a terrible mistake, a misunderstanding.

The Gene she knew was loyal, strong and despite appearances, had strong principles. He wasn't a killer. Earlier that evening, he'd looked her in the eye and told her he hadn't killed Sam, that he'd helped him fake his own death. At that moment, she knew he was telling the truth, knew what it had taken for him to open up to her. The hurt in his eyes when he talked about faith, how she hadn't learnt it yet; he was right and wrong at the same time. She had doubted him for weeks, after all, he'd done everything in his power to stop her finding out what had happened to Sam. She'd seen him at his most angry, kicking and punching, and knew that he was, at least physically, capable of killing a man. But when he'd told her he didn't do it, she believed him, because she really did have faith in him, knew that up against the wire he could be relied upon to do the right thing. That was why she'd uttered that cheesy cliché, deadly serious; she wanted to show him that she believed him, more than that even, that they were a partnership.

If she was honest with herself, she'd known for weeks, months even, that what she felt for him was more than just concern for a colleague or friend. No matter how much she'd tried to deny it to herself, she'd fallen for him, hook, line and sinker and now, well, she just didn't know what she felt.

It would have been so easy to ignore the knocking at the door, to let the evening run its course and wake up in Gene's arms. Yet something inside her told her she had to answer it. As much as she wanted to believe she had answered it to address the interruption so that the rest of the night could be perfect, inside she knew that for what ever reason she just had to. She'd wasted enough time in this world distracted from her purpose, that after three years she still hadn't found a way home to Molly and that she should take any possible chance to get back. Whatever her feelings for Gene, first and foremost she was a mother, separated from her child and she was needed elsewhere to a far greater degree.

Prior to Keats knocking on her door, Alex knew how she wanted the night to go, and it seemed that for once, she and Gene were on the same page. The feel of his lips on her forehead was so soft, so tender, words she never thought she'd use to describe Gene Hunt. The way he'd looked into her eyes as she'd lifted her head; she'd seen desire there certainly but something more, something that transcended the mere physical attraction that had existed between them since the day they'd met. To call it love didn't seem enough somehow, in that moment, it felt like only the two of them existed and the rest of the world simply fell away. It was all she could muster to tell him to wait in the bedroom while she answered the door.

Which is where he may still be, wondering where the hell you are, she thought to herself. The recollection seemed to shake her out of the haze of bewilderment she had felt ever since Keats had given her the photographs and Alex knew she had to go and find Gene, to salvage whatever was left between them and hopefully, to discover once and for all what had happen to Sam Tyler.

Finding herself back at the flat, she found the door closed and that she'd locked herself out in her haste to leave. Hesitating for a moment, she took a deep breath and knocked on the door. No answer. She pressed her ear against the door but all seemed still inside. Luigi's had long since closed and its owner had gone to bed and Alex was reluctant to wake him up to let her back in. She knew Gene wouldn't be there anyway. As petulant and infuriating as he could be, he wasn't the kind of man to lock her out of her own flat. There was only one place he could be.

Turning on her heel, Alex made her way down the stairs and back into the night. Crossing the road and walking the few hundred yards to the station, she realised she had no idea where to start and no idea what kind of mood Gene would be in. He wouldn't be best pleased, of course, but would he shout and rage at her, give her the silent treatment or had he already drunk himself into oblivion. She hoped it would be the former, at least then she might stand a chance of being able to deal with him, bounce off his reactions. Something told her that was too much to hope for, that whatever he'd done in the past, Gene's pride would be severely dented and it was highly likely he would want to see her at all.

As she entered the station, she was about to take the normal route to the main doors of the squad room before thinking better of it. She wanted a chance to observe him, to gauge his mood before he could just walk away. Slipping quietly in the side door, she saw him storming out of his office and across the room, before stopping at her desk and peering at the carving in its surface.

When he spoke, Alex heard none of the venom or hurt she had expected, only despair and frustration.

"Enough's enough, Bolly. Time for the truth."

"Tell me then, Gene." She heard the words before she realised she had said them.

He looked up at her, eyes questioning, as though he was trying to read her. She hesitated, waiting for him to storm off or yell at her. He did neither.

"You'd better step into my office, Inspector."

I hope it was up to scratch. I think there's another chapter in this, but in light of the finale, it's likely to be quite AU.

Please review. x