Three's a crowd: Chapter 2

After watching Annie's retreating back for as long as he could get away with, Gene reluctantly retook his seat opposite Alex. Why had she made such an early exit? Something about taking his chances. He'd always thought Annie had a sensible head on her shoulders, but now he began to have doubts. She'd sounded almost as loopy as Drake.

He fiddled with his fork for a moment before raising his eyes to Alex's. "So," he ventured awkwardly. "Here we are then."

"Yep," she nodded, holding his gaze for a moment before sliding her eyes away. Some of the lightness and ease had disappeared along with Annie; the atmosphere between them thickened as they sat at the table. Alex was conscious that what had begun as a friendly night out among colleagues had turned into something that looked a lot more like a date. She cleared her throat, desperately casting around for a topic of conversation, breathing out in relief as a waiter arrived with their main courses.

Gene sent Annie's plate back, shrugging at Alex. "May as well finish ours," he muttered, looking sceptically at the minimalist meal the waiter set before him. "Wish I'd kept Annie's now," he grumbled. At the sound of Alex's laughter, Gene felt himself relax slightly. Perhaps it would be all right. Although he'd probably still be hungry at the end of the meal.

Giving herself a mental shake, Alex reminded herself that this was Gene, a man she'd spent hours with, knew better than she did anyone else in this world. The setting might be different but the company was the same. They could do this. She struck up a conversation about something she'd seen in the news, smiling as he took the bait and responded with a light hearted comeback of his own.

Conversation now flowing more easily, Gene watched as Alex tucked into her meal. It looked like she was enjoying it, what little there was. He liked that about her, the way she ate with relish, the way she did everything with relish. No half measures with Bolly. Spearing a sliver of something that might once have been carrot, he listened as she chattered on, inconsequential conversation that he recognised as a deliberate attempt to lighten the mood. He joined in when required, happy to be in her company, enjoying the opportunity to watch her off duty.

If he was honest, he'd been searching for just such an opportunity for longer than he cared to admit. Oh, they'd shared many a meal in Luigi's, the team rowdy around them, talking over their caseload and squabbling about nothing, but this was – different. Just the two of them, intimate surroundings, tolerable food, decent bottle of white. It was laughable – he laughed to himself when he thought about it – but he wanted to court her, properly, the old-fashioned way. The way his mam would approve of. He wanted her to know that he knew she was different. The problem was that he'd been scared to ask her. So he decided to take advantage of the setting, making an effort to be charming and courteous, trying to make her understand that she was the only person in the room he could see.

That bit shouldn't be difficult, of course. He hadn't been able to see anyone else for months. She'd tottered into his world, all glossy lips and bouncing curls and endless legs, and he'd lost the battle for his heart before he'd even realised there'd been a war.

She smiled up at the waiter as he refilled her glass and he saw how completely relaxed she was in this place, with its crystal and crisp linen and more forks than he knew what to do with. He knew he'd never be comfortable with this side of her life; his idea of a good night out was steak and chips and more than one pint of Guinness. But, he conceded, it wasn't as difficult as he'd have imagined it would be. With only a little effort on his part he could relax enough to enjoy it. And the added bonus of every man in the place being jealous of him didn't hurt.

Alex watched as Gene began to relax. Taking a sip of her wine, she realised she was surprised by how much she was enjoying his company. She shouldn't be, she supposed – she'd enjoyed his company before – but each time it seemed to take her unawares. Warmed by the ambience, the soft lights and soft music, the smooth wine and the good conversation, she also began to lower her guard. Her mind wondered back to what Annie had said while Gene hadn't been there. About something being obvious. What, though?

The arrival of the waiter brought Alex back to the present. "She seemed nice, your Annie," Alex murmured as the plates were cleared away.

"She's not my Annie, but yeah, she's all right if you like that sort of thing," Gene sniffed.

"Come on, Gene. I could see you were fond of her." Alex didn't know why she was pushing it but the ease with which Gene and Annie had slipped into their old banter still rankled somehow.

Gene shrugged. "She was married to Sam. Hasn't had an easy time of it, having to bring up the kiddie on her own. She's done well to keep it together. Plus, she's not a bad copper, for a bird." He smiled as he said it, but to his surprise she didn't take the bait.

"She seemed like a very good copper," Alex replied absently. "And Sam must have loved her a lot. To come back to her I mean. To give up everything to be with her."

Staring at her, Gene wondered if it had finally happened – if Bolly had now officially lost the plot. What was she blithering on about now? He looked across at her but she was staring at the candle flickering on the table between them, a wistful expression on her face. Raising her eyes to his, he caught his breath at the yearning he could see there. She blinked it away before he could work out what she'd been yearning for.

"Sam was a soft nancy pillock," Gene grumbled fondly, "but he and Annie seemed happy enough. She took it badly when he, um, when he died."

"It must have been difficult for her," Alex agreed. "But then it would have been difficult for all of you."

Frowning, Gene shook his head. "We carried on all right. Chris was a bit cut up, he'd looked up to Sam I think, but I reckon Ray didn't shed too many tears. They never really got on." His left hand fiddled with a matchbook while he spoke, staring at it intently. She knew him well enough to know when he was holding back.

"You didn't always get on well with him, either, did you?"

A rueful smile shaped Gene's lips. "You could say that. We had what you might call differences in approach to policing. He was all for letting the scumbags walk if we couldn't dot all the Is and cross all the Ts in an investigation. I preferred to lock them up first and worry about the paperwork later."

"Did you bring him round to your way of thinking?"

Gene puffed his chest out slightly, nodding. "I like to think so. Loosened him up a bit. Got him to trust his instincts a bit more."

Smiling softly, Alex asked, "And you? Did you learn anything from him?"

Gene took a breath, staring at the table top. "Suppose," he muttered gruffly. He tapped his fingers against the stem of his wineglass. "He was always banging on about giving it your best, not settling for good enough. He had faith in me, even when I didn't have faith in myself. I think I'm a better copper for it."

Alex waited a beat. "You must miss him."

Straightening his shoulders, Gene made a deliberate attempt to shake off the melancholy. "I don't miss the way he could chew my ear off fifteen ways before breakfast. Gave me nearly as much grief as you."

Alex smiled gently, surprised to see the sadness still haunting his eyes. She'd never given enough thought to his feelings, she realised with a stab. The pain of his loss was real.

The line between human being and imaginary construct was becoming ever more blurred. She shouldn't care that Gene had grieved for Sam because Gene didn't exist. But she did care; so did that mean that he did exist? Whichever, her heart twisted at the thought of Gene going through such pain alone.

And if he could grieve, he could feel other emotions too. Pride and anger, certainly, but sometimes others – tenderness, perhaps, or affection. Desire.

She looked across the table at him as he studied the desert list. He'd left his tie at the office and opened a couple of buttons at his neck. In a dark blue suit jacket and crisp white shirt, he didn't look like an eighties throwback at all. He looked almost timeless. And, she acknowledged to herself, attractive. Tall and broad shouldered, with a rough masculinity she shouldn't like but she did, she'd noticed his physical appeal before but had been able to push it aside ever since he'd turned her down. He stuck out his lips in a pout as he flipped the page in the menu and her stomach flipped in sympathy. She wasn't sure she'd be so successful at ignoring her desire this time.

A waiter arrived and hovered over Gene's shoulder, an eyebrow raised in enquiry. Gene closed his menu with a snap. "Don't suppose you'll be wanting a pudding, Bolls? You women always seem too worried about the calories."

"Actually, I wouldn't mind a little something," she replied, taking the menu from him and scanning the options. "Mmm. Cheesecake. Lovely. And coffee, please." She really didn't want to leave just yet, and smiled across at Gene as he placed their order.

The mood lightened and over coffees and deserts conversation flowed easily, moving away from the uncomfortable topic of Sam Tyler and on to other, easier subjects, from the state of the nation to the state of Ray's perm. The rest of the evening passed quickly, Alex and Gene enjoying the chance to talk and, occasionally, flirt, without worrying about the usual agendas and undercurrents. Finishing off her second coffee, Alex glanced around and noticed they were the only diners left.

"Probably time to make a move," she murmured and Gene nodded reluctantly, signalling to a waiter for the bill. He'd enjoyed the evening, seeing a new side to Alex. She'd let her guard down, dropped some of prickly defensiveness, and he'd taken full advantage, trying to get her to see there was more to him than the gruff exterior he showed to the rest of the team.

He didn't kid himself it would lead to anything, of course. She'd turned him down once before and he wouldn't be so stupid as to try again. But he cherished this brief moment of intimacy, filed it away to use as balm the next time she was off with some posh, rich tosser and he was left alone. Again.

Driving her home, Gene tried unsuccessfully not to notice the shape of her legs or the curve of her breast as she sat quietly alongside him. Drawing up outside Luigi's the silence stretched awkwardly between them. He wanted to see her upstairs, make sure she was all right, extend the evening by another few minutes. But he didn't want to risk the rejection, so he sat still for a moment, drumming his hands on the steering wheel, uncharacteristically uncertain.

For her part, Alex was equally unsure. She'd seen a side to Gene this evening that she hadn't suspected existed. He'd been charming, thoughtful and, if she was honest, incredibly bloody shaggable. She had no idea what he wanted from her and was wary of adding extra layers of complication to her already difficult existence in 1981. But she caught her breath as she caught his gaze, intent and focused utterly on her, before she blinked and reached to her feet for her bag. Good god, if he looked at her like that just one more time she wouldn't be held responsible.

Gene cleared his throat. "Er, thanks, Bolls. Alex. I had a nice evening." He stared through the windscreen, eyes unseeing, waiting for her to get out, hoping she'd take her time.

"Me too," she murmured, putting her hand on his arm as she turned towards him to say goodnight. He turned to meet her, staring at her hand, feeling the heat from her fingers even through his clothing. He raised his gaze to hers, not bothering to conceal the longing he was sure she could read, and took a sharp breath in as he caught sight of the fire blazing in her own hazel eyes.

"Bolls," he muttered, his eyes shifting to her lips and back again, his body edging closer. Her eyelids fluttered closed as she tilted her face up to his, her hand sliding along his arm to his body, pulling herself towards him.

He couldn't resist. Didn't want to. He lowered his head, his heart racing as he brushed her lips with his, groaning at their softness, the sweetness of their taste.

For a moment, Alex couldn't breathe. The feel of his lips pulled the air from her lungs. His tongue snaked out, trailing across her lips, and Alex shivered. She smoothed her palm on Gene's shirt front, reaching up and around his neck, pulling him closer. Opening her lips, she slid her tongue into his mouth, desperate to taste him, shocked by how good it felt. She edged to the front of her seat and stretched around to him, slipping a hand under his jacket and curling it around his waist.

Deepening the kiss, Gene could think of nothing but the woman next to him, the warm flesh beneath his fingers. His hand slid to her hips, pulling her top free, fingers stealing beneath, stroking her ribs, reaching her back. She whimpered beneath his touch, wanting more, and he obliged, reaching up to cup her breast through the lace of her bra.

His thumb grazed across her nipple, peaking hard beneath his touch, and her murmurs of desire were nearly his undoing. He tried to pull her closer, wanting to feel her against him, but was thwarted by the angles and growled in frustration. His mouth roamed her face, her jaw, her throat, sucking and licking, scraping her with his teeth, nipping gently at her tender skin. He had to have more.

Alex's hands were busy on his body, undoing buttons, tugging on his shirt, pushing at his jacket. She was consumed with passion, desperate to taste him, to feel him against her. Shaking her head, trying to clear it, she dragged her mouth from his and pulled herself out of his arms, pressed herself back into her seat. Panting, staring at Gene with wide, wild eyes, she swallowed hard. He looked rumpled, dangerous, staring back at her with unmistakeable desire, a question in his eyes. She nodded, scrabbling for the door handle, unsteady as she got out of the car, watching him follow her. Fumbling in her pocket for her key, she opened the street-level door, Gene close behind her, and he was at her shoulder as she pushed the door closed.

He couldn't wait, couldn't keep his hands off her. Pushing her back against the door, he pressed his body into hers, his hands cradling her head as he pulled her into his kiss. She intoxicated him, he couldn't get enough, and as she lifted her arms around his neck he trailed his hands down her body, across her breast, around her waist. He lifted her to him, tight against him, and she whimpered into his mouth at the feel of him grinding against her.

Christ almighty, he wanted her, had to have her, was so hard it was painful, the ache would drive him mad. If he wasn't careful he was going to take her right there in the corridor. With some effort he wrenched himself away, taking her arm, tugging her up the stairs, guiding her hand with his as she struggled to get the key in the lock of her front door.

Crashing into her flat, they pulled off coats and jackets, boots and socks, hopping and stumbling to the bedroom, snatching kisses along the way. Gene didn't want her out of arm's reach for fear she'd change her mind if she got too far away. Alex couldn't stop touching him because he felt so good beneath her fingers.

They reached the bed and Alex scrambled on, turning around and kneeling on the edge, facing Gene, pulling him down for a kiss. She pushed his shirt from his shoulders, smoothing her hands across his skin, down his arms, up his chest and around his neck, her lips never leaving his.

He groaned into her mouth, head spinning at her touch. He needed to be closer, to feel her skin against his. Tearing his lips away he tugged her top over her head, then stared down at her, in second-skin denim and a ruby red bra, eyes wanton and lips bruised. "Jesus, Alex," he muttered, reaching out to trace a line from her jaw to her shoulder. "I may never be able to see straight again." And he dipped his head, his lips where his fingers had just been, his hands busy unclipping her bra and slipping it from her shoulders.

Reciprocating in kind, she reached for his belt, overwhelmed by her need for him. "Gene, yes, God, yes," she cried as he bent to take a nipple in his mouth, sucking gently, then harder, scraping his teeth across the tip, rolling it between finger and thumb. She gasped, her trembling hands at his belt, pulling the leather through the loops, slipping the button free and sliding down the zip. She pushed his trousers and shorts down, over his hips, his long, long legs, and he kicked them away.

He was hard and heavy before her and she curled her fingers around him, her eyes wide at the sight. She'd never have guessed he'd be so beautiful. Ducking down, she took him in her mouth, her hand still firm at his base, and he had to hold her shoulders for strength. He tasted of pure masculinity and she pumped her hand slightly as she sucked on him, snaking her tongue around his tip before swallowing him again, deep in her throat.

"Wait," he groaned, pushing on her shoulders, pulling his hips away. He pushed her to the bed, peeling her jeans from her legs. She lay staring up at him, wearing nothing but a tiny scrap of red lace, and he growled, hooking his finger into the elastic and flinging the knickers away. He joined her quickly on the bed, lying above her, his mind reeling at the feel of her naked body sliding against his.

How had this happened? How was he here, in her bed, about to live out his increasingly frequent fantasies with a warm and apparently willing Alex Drake? She was more beautiful in the flesh than he'd ever imagined, and he'd imagined a lot. For so long he'd dreamt of having her, of tasting and touching and loving her, but he'd never believed it would happen. He growled as her slender fingers traced desperate patterns on his spine, down his back, pulling him closer.

"Alex," he mumbled, his mouth at her shoulder, his weight on his elbows. She was wriggling beneath him, her legs parted for him, and he wanted nothing more than to be inside her but didn't know how long he could last. He needed it to be good for her. Sliding down her body, kissing and nipping as he went, he settled himself between her knees, breathing in her scent, admiring the view.

He dropped a soft kiss on the inside of her thigh, smiling as Alex stifled a moan and twitched her hips up towards him. "Patience," he murmured, his tongue swirling in circles down her leg towards her hot centre.

"Please," she pleaded, her head shaking from side to side, fingers clutching blindly at the sheets. She felt more alive now than since she'd arrived in this insane world, and Gene had certainly never felt more real. Lust coiled tight in her stomach and she reached a hand to his head, threading her fingers through his hair, urging him down, desperate for him to ease the ache.

Her skin burned everywhere he touched her, sparks igniting into flame, making her cry with desire. His head inched slowly lower, lips caressing the sensitive flesh. Christ, she was beautiful. He traced a finger along her folds and she sobbed at the light contact, frustrated beyond measure, needing more, needing him. "Gene," she begged, "please." Slipping a finger inside her, he nearly folded at how slick she was, how ready for him. Taking a steadying breath he lowered his head, gently parting her folds, running the tip of his tongue along her.

Alex was shaking, unable to control the waves of pleasure crashing over her. She'd never imagined it could feel so good, so perfect. Gene slipped two fingers inside, thrusting slowly, circling his tongue over her clit in rhythm. Her hips rose to meet him, she was close now and blind to everything but the feel of his hands and mouth on her body. "Gene," she cried, "so good, please, feel so good," and he opened his mouth wide on her, sucking hard on her clit, sending her spiralling, gasping and cursing as she came.

He had to have her, couldn't wait a moment longer, and slid back up her body, nudging her thighs apart with his knees. "Alex," he groaned, and he pushed into her.

Their eyes locked. He began to move, thrusting slowly, deep within her. He'd never felt such completion, and if he hadn't been so aroused he'd have been terrified. He wanted her more than breathing and he never wanted to let her go. Staring up at him with wide, trusting eyes, she hooked an arm around his neck and pulled him down for her kiss. His tongue slipped into her mouth, sliding against hers, and her eyelids closed as the familiar heaviness began building again.

She tilted her hips towards him, meeting his every thrust, moaning with pleasure, gripping his shoulders, his back, his arse. "Christ," he grunted, sweat beading on his body, the effort of holding back almost too great. "So good, Alex, want this, want you." He grasped at her breast, squeezing, pinching the nipple until she cried out with sweet agony. Thrusting faster, deeper, he bit down on her neck, then sucked on the tender spot, his teeth and tongue hard against her flesh.

Pushing herself up to meet his thrusts, heat grew at her centre, spreading through her body like wildfire. "Gene," she panted, "yes, more," and she clutched at his shoulders, hanging onto him, tensing around him as she fell over the brink once more, shattering into pieces, crying his name.

"Yes," Gene growled into her shoulder, pumping faster, holding her firm beneath him until he could feel nothing but her, hot and tight around him. "Yes, Alex, Jesus Christ, yes," and he flooded into her, again and again, until he was spent.

Collapsing onto her, holding her close as he regained his breath, he desperately sought his usual detachment and control, panicking when it wouldn't come. Almost not daring to look, he lifted his head and she smiled up at him, open and warm and happy.

Smiling back, concealing his relief, he rolled to his side and gathered her next to him. "So," he asked, pulling the sheets over them and kissing her forehead, "did it live up to your expectations?"

She arched an eyebrow. "What makes you think I had any expectations?"

"Well, you're only human. Bound to have wondered."

Rolling her eyes, she snuggled into his chest. "It was okay," she mumbled sleepily. "Will get better with practice."

Smiling into the darkness, he cradled her close. He liked the sound of that.

xxx

Annie Tyler looked at her watch. Ten to eleven. She'd had a great morning, successfully interviewing Alfie Baines, and she reckoned she had enough now to make sure James Whedon didn't walk. She should be heading straight home but she couldn't leave without saying goodbye to the Guv.

Pushing through the squad room doors, she was disappointed to see his office was empty. In fact, most of the desks were unoccupied. Maybe they'd all been called out on a job.

Never mind. May as well grab herself a cup of tea before heading off. She made her way towards the small kitchen, pausing in her tracks at the sound of a soft giggle that seemed to be coming from that direction. She knew that giggle. And although she couldn't make out the words in the gruff response, she was certain she knew who the giggler was talking to.

Smiling, she walked quietly towards the kitchen's open doorway. Gene Hunt stood with his back to her, looming over Alex Drake, pressing her back against the cabinets. His head was bent towards her, his hand on her waist, and whatever he was whispering in her ear appeared to be very well received. She stared at him, an expression of mock outrage on her face, before leaning up to press her lips against his.

"Ahem," coughed Annie, catching Alex's eye.

"Annie," Alex yelped, pushing Gene away and grabbing at the cup of tea on the counter. "I didn't hear you come in."

"No," Annie smiled. "I don't suppose you did."

"Well, I, er, I'll just be off," Alex babbled, "nice to see you again." And with that she clutched her mug to her body and fled from the kitchen, avoiding Gene's gaze.

"I just stopped in to say goodbye," Annie grinned.

Gene sent her a narrow stare. She didn't appear surprised at what she'd witnessed – if anything it was as though she'd been expecting it. "Hmm," he murmured. "It's not what it looks like, you know."

"Isn't it? That's a shame, but if you say so…"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing Guv," she replied innocently. "I'm off now. Thanks for all your help with Baines, I'm sure we're going to nail Whedon."

"Well, okay, Annie love," he said cautiously. "Don't leave it so long next time."

"I won't," she agreed, reaching up to peck a kiss on his cheek. "I'm just happy you took your chances, Guv," she whispered into his ear. "They don't come along too often, you have to make the most of them when they do."

Shaking his head, a few pennies dropped in Gene's head. He owed Annie a pint, he realised. Maybe several.

Walking back out of the squad room, a small smile played across Annie's face. One of only a few genuine smiles since Sam... She and Sam had been so happy together, even if only for a short while. The Guv deserved to feel that way too. She hoped he'd get the chance.

xxx

AN: Thanks to everyone who reviewed and favourited this story, I'm always delighted to get feedback. Please leave a comment if you enjoyed it.

Best wishes

Lou