A/N: Thanks again for the reviews, and to JoinTheHunt1981 who has stuck by and reviewed every chapter. Hope I didn't distract anyone by my not taking a new line thing.

It didn't take long for me to be taken up to my new room. It was pretty plain- a bed, a chest of drawers, white walls, cream carpet. The kind of thing you'd do with a guest room (which I guess this probably was, before I turned up). I began sorting out my stuff, putting my clothes in the drawers and my toiletries in the bathroom. I pulled on my pyjamas and had just got under the covers and relaxed when I heard a noise from the bathroom. So I pulled myself out of bed again and walked through. Gene Hunt was standing there, looking around. It was a moment until he spoke.
"Yeh've gone an' poofed up me bathroom!" He groaned. I rolled my eyes.
"No Gene. I've made myself at home, considering that this is my home now," I replied. He was wide eyed, staring at the things I'd brought into his house. I smiled sweetly and headed back to my room, hearing something that sounded vaguely like 'wimmin' as I left. I slept almost as soon as my head hit the pillow, tired after my long day.

I woke up in the middle of the night screaming, grabbing my pillow and crying. "Just a dream. He's not gonna take me away. Just a dream," I sobbed into my pillow. I hoped against hope that Gene hadn't woken up- he didn't seem like much of a 'morning person' to me. I checked the clock. It was only 25 to 4. That increased my hope that Gene hadn't heard me.
Too bad my hoping didn't work out.
According to my track record of luck, Gene walked in to find me still crying my eyes out in my room. He began rubbing my shoulder awkwardly.
"You ok?" He murmured. I nodded, hoping he wouldn't notice the shock that he wasn't mad or angry. I started crying again, because I was reminded that none of my family was here. Or, more likely, that my mum and dad were only 12. And my grandparents didn't know who I was yet. It hurt, and what was harder was that the only thing I have close to family here is the man who I thought was scary, but was sitting here trying to comfort me. I considered only a moment before sitting up and putting my arms around him. It was nice, in this world, having someone to hug. He hugged me back, and eventually I slipped back into a sleepless dream.

Days came and went, and before I knew it, it was the weekend. We'd been working hard the last week, getting me into a new school (I was going to a Catholic school, which was fine by me. Gene said that the local school here was filled with 'thugs' and he didn't want me going anywhere near that place), getting paint for my room, and checking out carpets and duvet covers and stuff for my room. I also got some posters of bands I liked from around that time: Duran Duran, The Bee Gees, Queen and Blondie. Gene bought me a Walkman and some tapes and (minus electronic beats) I felt almost at home. Now that the weekend had rolled around, we knew that Shaz, Chris, Ray and Alex were off, unless something happened, and therefore could help me with painting my room. I called Shaz, and her perky voice answered on the other end. It was such a relief, Gene could be cool and all, but Shaz was probably my best friend in this world, whatever 'this world' was, real or pretend.
"Hello, Shaz here?" she said. My face broke into a grin.
"Hey Shaz!" I replied, almost bursting with happiness. It was nice to hear a non-gruff voice speaking.
"Oh hey Louise! What's up?"
"I was wondering if you and the others would like to come over here? I kind of need help painting my room," I crossed my fingers, praying she'd say yes. Luckily, she did, and half an hour later, Chris, Shaz and Ray all arrived, shortly followed by Alex, who got a 'Lady Bolls! Nice of you to join us!" for her troubles. We then had to move everything out. It took practically a broken arm and a heck of a lot of convincing for Gene to let Chris and Ray help him move things out, and eventually we were able to start. I'd picked a lilac colour, deciding the house needed something other than black and white in it. It wasn't long, however, until the childishness of CID went into action. Ray came over, and he'd better be glad I was wearing old clothes, because, well, to make it easy he painted me. "Oi!" I yelled at him, flicking him with paint as he went. Eventually, we were in a full on paint fight until Gene came to get us for tea and biscuits (that Alex had made) yelling "That stuff isn't cheap yeh know!" and suppressing a laugh. We all sat in the middle of the floor (because in our painted state Gene wouldn't let us anywhere near the living room), and Ray explained that it had all been revenge because I destroyed his magazine. I laughed, and, luckily for us, we had the room painted and ready for the carpet fitters. It was straight after that that the phone call came. Gene answered.
"Gene Hunt," he began. He nodded for a while before hanging up. CID and I all looked at him, the same question mark on our faces.
"There's been a murder. Fifteen year old boy, Shane Johnson," he said. My mouth dropped open.
"Do you know him?" Asked Shaz.
"Yes… and no. But Uncle Shane can't be dead yet! He doesn't die until 2007 of a heart attack!"
I got an odd look for that, and Alex began to speak.
"OK, I think it's about time Louise and I explain, from the beginning…"

A/N: I hope it's OK! Tell me what you think and what you want to happen next. Should the team believe them? Or will they just put it down to a rough night and tell them to get some sleep? Perhaps Alex and Louise will be hospitalized for craziness? Let me know if you want any of these to be possible .