Disclaimer: All Characters taken from the BBC series 'Ashes to Ashes' and as such do not belong to me, these are the property of Kudos Production and the BBC.

Drum roll Chapter three for you, from me! hehehe i'm a poet and i didn't realise..doh! Cheers Emzi.x!!

I remember those days hanging out at the village green
Engineer boots, leather jackets and tight blue jeans
Drop a dime in the box play the song about New Orleans
Cold beer, hot lights
My sweet romantic teenage nights

25 long years. It was Gene's birthday and he didn't feel much like celebrating. He sat in his old arm chair, the horrible brown thing he'd inherited from his father. It was smelly, dirty and ugly. But it was well worn, and it was the only thing his father had ever given him. He'd hated the man, but the chair he'd loved. As a child he'd sneak downstairs in the early mornings, before his father woke and sit in the throne. If his father caught him, it would mean a beating, but Gene had thought it worth the risk.

Gene sighed and pushed the memories away as silence rang out all around him. Almost silence anyway; the sound of Nancy's snoring carried down the stairs but he found it almost soothing. It reminded him that he wasn't entirely alone. Gene supposed, in a way, he'd always been frightened of being alone. He'd married Nancy because she'd like him, and he didn't want to be on his own anymore. Once his parents had died and Emily had left him, he'd had no one. His younger brother would come and go, but he'd had no one there all the time, no one to hold when he felt the terribleness of the world was getting to much in his younger years. Nancy had been there. She had loved him regardless of his faults, and still did, despite the fact that the list of faults was growing with every passing day. They argued of course, but when he needed to break down, she was there for him. She had never teased him and run out on him. Not like that harlot Emily.

Gene sighed again. Emily. They'd been so good together. Genie would have said they were one person, but Gene knew better now. And still, still, he couldn't stop himself from loving her. From smiling when he remembered the good times.

He remembered the first time he had met her. His 17 year old self and a group of friends from work had gone to a disco one hot summer evening. Gene and his friends stood at the bar, making jokes and eyeing up the girls.

And then he saw her.

He was sure his heart stopped when she looked up and gave him a blushing smile.

Gene's friends had laughed and made comments, pushing him into going and speaking with her. He'd walked away from his friends to stop them from teasing him, wandering to the jukebox rather than having to talk to her. He pushed the money in the slot and tried to concentrate on picking a song, instead of the girl in the corner of his eye. He tried to stop his heart racing as he saw her walking his way. She was beautiful; he'd never seen anything even half as perfect in all of his life.

She stopped at the Jukebox, leaning over his shoulder.

"Can I choose?"

Gene had swallowed hard and stepped back, a nervous wreck, allowing her room to get by him. Her arm brushed against his as he walked by, and he didn't know where it came from. He'd grabbed her arm, and pulled her to look at him.

"Only if you'll dance wi' me."

She'd shrugged as if she wasn't fussed, but he'd seen her blush again.

"Okay."

Gene's friends had cat called in his direction when they'd started to dance, he gave them a grin knowing every man in the room would be jealous of him. Her light touch on his shoulder was doing strange things to his insides. He thought conversation might take his mind off of the beauty in his arms, stirring passion.

"What's yer name?"

"Emily Parker, 'Oo are you?"

"Gene 'unt. 'ow old are yer?"

"16."

Gene thought he would have a heart attack; this beautiful creature had only just come of age. Not good, dangerous territory, but what was one dance?

"I'm 17."

He didn't know what else to say, and she didn't seem to care, it seemed each was as content as the other, just twirling with tangled arms.

Gene sighed and pushed the thought away refilling his glass with whiskey. It wouldn't do well to dwell on the past. He took a large gulp from his glass and heard Nancy turn over upstairs. He held his breath, waiting for her to shout down at him, whining that he wasn't upstairs by her side. No shout came, he heard her steady snoring find it's rhythm once more and he exhaled slowly. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get Emily out of his head. He couldn't sleep next to Nancy while thinking of another woman, he just couldn't do it.

He remembered the stupid clothes Emily had liked him to wear, young people's clothes. Even now, he wasn't really old, but he'd feel uncomfortable in those shoes now. Em had loved his leather jacket. They had written on the back of it: "Genie 'heart' Moony", in big tip-ex letters for all to see. And that was probably the truth of it. Gene had loved her, with all of his being, but she hadn't loved him. If she loved him, surely she wouldn't have walked away from him the way she did? Twice! In his younger years, he'd been too blinded by his own feelings to see that hers were absent, and she made no effort to let him see the truth.

Genie had sat on the wall outside, listening to the music drifting out. He sipped on the cold bottled beer he'd brought out with him, staring at the floor. Emily wasn't here, she said she would meet him here at 6, and he had bragged to his friends. It had just gone half seven, and she still hadn't shown. Gene felt low, real low. His friends had laughed at him, as was the way with young men.

"Genie!"

Gene whipped around and Emily jumped into his arms. He swung her round and round a big grin plastered on his face, all anger and depression forgotten. Emily had the ability to make him forget his troubles just by being there. She leant her pretty face up to him and they kissed gently.

"Sorry I took so long. I wanted t' look nice fer yer."

"Yer could turn up in me mum's tatty old maternity clothes 'n yer would still be gorgeous t' me."

Emily giggled and he pulled her close.

"I don't think everyone else would let me off so easy."

"'Oo gives a damn what they think? I love yer Em."

Gene's heart was racing; he'd never told her before. She turned her big eyes up to his face and he couldn't read the expression. Oh god, oh god, oh god, please don't let her walk away from me.

"Oh Genie!"

She lifted her face and kissed him once more, his body flooded with relief.

The older, wiser Gene sat in his chair remembering. His trousers felt tight around his groin and he hated himself, hated Emily. He hadn't seen the distracting harlot in years, and the very thought of her was enough to drive him crazy. The very thought of kissing her, in a gentle rather than passionate way was enough to make him hard in an instant. He drained his glass and got to his feet.

"Enough, that's enough now Genie."

He would go to the toilet, empty his bladder and try to compose himself. Then he would climb into bed with Nancy, too fatigued to think any more. He wouldn't push himself on her, wouldn't wake her and have her help in his relief. Not when it was another woman on his mind. He had more moral fiber than that.

In years to come that would change. His self respect would go down the pan, and he would climb the stairs and wake his wife. He'd ask her to touch him, make him feel loved. She rarely refused, but Gene was sure she knew it wasn't thought of her that had got him so worked up. It was, Emily, always Emily. Bloody Emily.

OooOOoo who likes it? Who doesn't? Whhhy?? lol You know i value your opinion :D Go on, tell me what ya think :p Next chapter up ASAP! TTFN! love LSQ x