Well done to Katie Duggan's Niece for spotting that Paul Henrie is a variation on Paul Henreid, the actor who played Victor Lazlo, on whom Alex's companion is based. I did think about calling him Vic, but that could have raised all kinds of speculation regarding Sam's father, which wouldn't really have been appropriate!
Anyway, on with the story …

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Chapter 4

"Gene. It's black coffee. Just drink it."

"Don' wan' coffee. Wan' more whiskey …"

Sam sighed. It was almost two, the place was empty and all he wanted to do was get Gene settled upstairs so he could go home and get some sleep. Preferably before dawn broke.

"Guv, if you have any more to drink, there's no way I'll be able to get you up to bed and you'll end up kipping on the floor. Is that what you want?"

"Don' care. Anyway, I'm waitin' fer her."

Sam ran a hand distractedly though his hair.

"Have you any idea what time it is? She'll be safely tucked up in bed by now, which is exactly where I'd like to be."

Gene looked at him blearily, but Sam noticed he could still focus. God, the man's capacity for drink was legendary.

"Oh, don' worry, she'll be here. Won' be able ter stay away."

Gene was surprised how sober he still felt, considering he'd put away the best part of a bottle of Scotch on his own. It hadn't dulled the pain much, though. Or the anger. He felt raw, exposed, vulnerable, and he hated it. Hated her. Still loved her though, dammit.

"Of all the bars in all the world, why'd she 'ave ter walk into mine, fer fuck's sake?"

The anguish in his voice was tangible, and Sam's heart went out to him. He almost hoped she did turn up, maybe the Guv would get some closure at long last, although he didn't think he was really in the mood for an in depth explanation at the moment.

Gene sipped his coffee and met Sam's eyes again, and the depth of the pain he saw there made him flinch.

"Play it fer me, Sam. If she can stand it, so can I."

Sam took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"Are you really sure that's a good idea?"

Gene nodded and the younger man shrugged, loading the tape. For the second time that evening, Tony Hadley's dulcet tones filled the room, and Gene was hurled back to the very beginning …

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The mutual attraction had been there from the minute she walked in, even though they really didn't take to one another at first. He thought she was a posh tart who talked a load of psychobollocks, and she thought he was a Northern Neanderthal with all the social skills of a dry stone wall. And then slowly, gradually it dawned on him that her measured approach, her detailed profiling, got results, and she began to realise that his gut instincts and all his years of experience were often invaluable. They learnt to respect one another and to work well as a team. And even more surprisingly, they became friends.

He never quite understood it. On paper, they had little in common: their backgrounds, education, interests and experience were all so different that the cliché of 'chalk and cheese' could have been invented just for them, and yet somehow they grew to trust one another, to enjoy one another's company, and eventually to fall in love. It had crept up on him so slowly he wasn't really sure exactly how or when it had happened, but he would never forget the night they couldn't ignore it any more.

The Friday in question was Shaz's birthday and CID had taken over Luigi's for the night, moving the furniture later on in the evening so there was room to dance. Gene and Alex had found themselves seated at their usual table but something was different that night: he could never quite put his finger on it but they both knew it. They talked very little and yet somehow they were irresistibly drawn to each other, their faces only inches apart as their eyes betrayed them.

He knew there were some whisperings and murmurings going on around them but he found he really didn't care, and when the soft notes of 'True' filled the room and she offered him her hand, he forgot that the Gene Genie didn't dance. She walked into his arms and into his heart, her cheek pressed to his chest, his face buried in her hair as they swayed together, lost in each other. They were the only two people in the world as he pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, and slowly, inevitably, she raised her sultry gaze to his and their lips finally met.

He was vaguely aware of an explosion of clapping and cheering and the odd ribald remark as she led him upstairs, but all he could see were her eyes, all he could taste was her kiss and all he wanted was hold her luscious body against his and lose himself in her sweetness. When he made love to her it was with exquisite tenderness, his hands and mouth wandering over every inch of her body, relishing the creamy softness of her skin and the heady scent of her as she writhed desperately beneath him, crying his name and begging for glorious release. Afterwards, there were no words necessary as the tears welled in her eyes and slid down her face and he kissed them gently away.

"Oh Gene …"

"Shhhh, luv. I know."

For the first time in his life he was trapped, tangled in the web of love with no hope of escape, and he knew it.

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They spent the whole weekend together, mostly in bed but occasionally decamping to the sofa and calling Luigi for food and wine. Gene answered the door wearing her fluffy bathrobe and had to fight off the joyful little Italian who would have kissed him on both cheeks otherwise.

"Oh, Mr 'unt, I am so 'appy. You and the lovely signorina, you are made for each other …"

"Yes, Luigi. Ta muchly. Now can I just have me takeaway before I die of hunger, please?"

A smirk tugged at Gene's lips as he was forced to listen to Luigi tunelessly whistling "That's Amore" all the way down the stairs.

Her eyes were shining as she sat on the sofa grinning, clad only in his shirt, her long legs tucked underneath her.

"You should wear pink more often, Gene. It suits you."

He snorted, passing her the wine and heading to the kitchen to plate up the food.

"Well there's not much point me puttin' me trousers back on, is there? Yer'll only have 'em off again in a few minutes."

He paused in the doorway and waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"Not that I'm complainin', you understand. And it's your turn ter do most of the work later …"

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He had been worried that their blossoming personal relationship might affect their work and it did, but not in the way he'd expected. Instead of distracting him from the job he found her support strengthened him, and if anything he was even more passionate, more determined to clear the streets of scum.

They did, of course, manage to sneak off to the stationery cupboard on a regular basis though, and his desk enjoyed a decent amount of action of a type it had never been designed for. It was her fault, he reasoned: she couldn't leave his body alone and he was only human, after all.

A few months into the relationship Sam joined them for a while, chasing a known drugs dealer who was reported to have decamped to the capital when things got too hot on his home patch. The two of them were together in the office on the afternoon of his arrival, and it was only after Gene finally managed to tear his eyes away from her cleavage for a couple of seconds that he realised they were being observed.

"Sam! Come on in and meet my new DI. Alex, this is DI Tyler, a damn good copper and a pain in the posterior."

Sam grinned, shaking Alex's hand as he raised an eyebrow at Gene.

"And?"

Gene looked puzzled.

"And what?"

"DI … and better half?"

Alex blushed as Gene's mouth dropped open.

"How did yer guess?"

"Well, let's see. Gorgeous brunettes are just your type, you were clearly invading her personal space in a pretty intimate manner, and the body language between the two of you is a dead giveaway."

Alex smiled at him.

"I'm impressed. Are you trained in psychology then, Sam?"

Sam's grin widened.

"Nah. Ray and Chris told me on the way in …"

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It hadn't been long after Sam went back to Manchester that Gene had returned to the flat one night to find it empty, all her belongings gone and an envelope addressed to him on the table. Just a couple of terse lines and his whole world came crashing down around him.

Dear Gene.

I have to leave, and it's breaking my heart. I know you won't understand and you'll be hurt and angry, but I don't have a choice. I can't tell you why, just know that I'll always love you and the last six months have been the best time of my life.

Take care of yourself, I'll be thinking of you wherever I am.

Yours always,

Alex.

The note was tear-stained and had clearly been scribbled in a hurry, but it made no sense whichever way he thought about it. Why had she had to leave so suddenly? And why could she not have come to him first? He slammed his fist down hard on the table, before running his fingers through his hair, feeling like she'd ripped his heart out and trampled on it. And then he sat down and thought about it logically. He knew she loved him, and he was convinced she wouldn't be able to stay away for long, whatever had happened to make her go.

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Poor old Guv. I have a feeling it might get worse before it gets better, bless him. Still, I'm sure there'll be plenty of volunteers ready to cheer him up, if they can get past me. ;)
Hope you're still enjoying, I'd love to hear from you.