Intermission 1

"It's been almost a month since we last spoke, Alex."

"Has it really? Well doesn't time fly when you're having anything but fun?"

"And at our first appointment you told me that you were no longer engaged." The psychologist noticed Alex shuffling awkwardly, "but I do notice you're still wearing your engagement ring." She hesitated, watching Alex's anxious reaction. "Does this mean you are still engaged to your fiancé?"

Alex swallowed. That was a private matter but she knew the woman wasn't going to accept that as an excuse.

"I'm still wearing the ring," she began awkwardly, "because to break off an engagement that would mean that I would have to be talking to him."

"Are you not communicating well, Alex?"

"Well? Try replacing 'well' with 'at all' and you just might come close to it."

"Communication has broken down between the two of you?"

"Not so much broken down as stopped like an exhausted elephant running a marathon."

"And what do you think is causing the difficulty between you both?"

"Do you mean aside from the fact that I'm still trying to close my eyes without seeing that man looming towards me?"

"You are still holding Gene responsible for letting Jim Keats take you away?"

"Why shouldn't I? Gene still does."

"There was no way that Gene – or yourself – could have known what was about to happen, Alex. Your fiancé made decisions based on the facts that were presented to you both at the time."

"Well that was the last decision he could be bothered making,"

"In what way?"

"It doesn't matter."

"I'm trying to help you, Alex. I do know that this is difficult to talk about –"

"And yet there you go, prising blood out of a stone, or trying to."

"We'll move on, Alex. If you are not ready to talk about your relationship then let's talk about your other difficulties."

Alex bristled.

"I'm not having difficulties."

"Your doctor has prescribed additional anti-depressants on top of your other medication and you already told me you were having difficulty sleeping."

"But I know that's normal. You forget that I'm a psychologist too. I could just sit with a mirror and give myself therapy."

"It's very interesting that you should say that."

Alex narrowed her eyes at the woman.

"Why, exactly?"

"Because mirrors are something you are having trouble dealing with."

Alex scowled.

"Big lumps of shiny glass," she mocked, "the scourge of society."

"I noticed that you deliberately sat beneath the mirror in the waiting room instead of facing it when you came in."

"I assure you my choice of seat was entirely random."

"And you've turned your seat slightly to avoid the mirror on the wall."

"You're criticising how I am sitting on a chair?" Alex asked crossly.

The psychologist tapped her pen on her pad.

"Alex," she said quietly, "you're wearing no make-up. Your hair is flat and unstyled. You're wearing a high-necked jumper on a warm summer's morning."

Alex swallowed and felt her breath shortening.

"I was going to an enforced therapy session, not to a night at the opera, I saw no need to dress up."

"I'm concerned that you are trying to hide yourself away as a result of what you've been through."

"And how many years of training did you go through to reach that conclusion?" Alex said coldly.

"Well you should know," the therapist threw back, "as you pointed out you are a psychologist too."

Alex narrowed her eyes a little.

"Listen," she began crossly, "My relationship is fading. My job is on hold indefinitely. Kim won't even speak to me, let alone see me, I have nothing to make an effort for."

The therapist studied Alex. She looked at her notes. She looked back at her face. She tilted her head.

"And," she began, "who exactly is Kim?"

~xXx~

"No. She hasn't talked to me. Not more than to tell me I've left the toilet seat up. No, she's too busy brooding, blaming me, staring at the bloody clock and brooding over Metal flippin' Mickey."

The therapist did not understand why Gene was concerned about Alex brooding over a TFV show that hadn't been on since the 80s but she didn't ask.

"What have you tried doing to open up communication with her?" she asked.

Gene shrugged.

"Got me, Headcase."

"Have you tried to begin with topics that are less emotionally demanding for her? Mutual interests that you shared? Household issues?"

"Did yer ears close up temporarily? I said I didn't bloody know."

"You don't know what you've done to try to converse with your fiancée?" The psychologist frowned, confused.

"Listen Headcase, I don't even know if she's me fiancée any more." He felt awkward and shamed talking this way. He disapproved of therapy at the best of times but when he was the one receiving it the whole subject seemed a million times worse. He didn't want to be there, he didn't want Alex to be there and he didn't want his team to be there.

"Have you tried opening up a dialogue with Alex about your relationship?"

"Frankly, love, some days I'm lucky to get her to open the door for me." He folded his arms and leaned back. "You can stand down, Headcase," he said, "put yer marriage guidance hat away. Plain to see on her face I'm not gonna take her up the aisle. Topic comes up and she goes out the door. Anything to do with a wedding goes in the bloody rubbish. Even the catalogue of honeymoon lingerie." That was one of the parts that saddened Gene the most. "I think that's it for me. Knew I was

punching above me weight in the first place. Always waited for this day to come. But she's not gonna tell me that, and I'm not gonna ask."

The psychologist leaned forward slightly.

"There's something that puzzle me, Gene."

"I told you last time, that's DCI Hunt."

"It might help you to feel more at ease with these sessions if you allow yourself to become more open and familiar with me."

"That's a nice filing cabinet you've got yerself there. Be a shame if anything dented it. Like yer back."

The psychologist began to really hate her job.

"Alright, DCI Hunt," she said through gritted teeth before regaining her composure, "there is one thing puzzling me,"

"Just the one?" Gene mocked. "Easy bloody life you've got."

"I've met you several times at the station and you've never been one to shy away from confrontation. In fact, you actively seek it out."

"Give that shrink a coconut."

"So it leaves me wondering why you've let things drag along with Alex instead of getting them out in the open."

Gene stared at her. She stared right back.

"What?"

"The Gene Hunt that puts the fear of god into cops and criminals country-wide would have pulled her up on her behaviour from the word go," the woman pointed out, "what has made you hold back?"

Gene carried on staring. His mind went blank and he felt a churning in his guts. Finally, he swallowed and blinked.

"I don't know, Headcase," he admitted quietly, "I don't bloody know."

~xXx~

"I don't know. I feel like I don't know anything at all. I'm the absolute bloody outsider."

Jake crossed his arms and shook his head despondently.

"You're relatively new to the area and to the team," the psychologist pointed out, "it's not unusual to feel that way."

"No, I don't mean like that," Jake said crossly, "it's not like being 'the new boy', it's…" he closed his eyes and let his breath out slowly. "It's like they've got some big secret they won't tell me."

"Who has?"

"The Guv," he began, "The Ma'am. Robin – Chief Inspector Thomas. I've noticed it before but since the night with the bombs and..." he opened his eyes again but wouldn't look her in the eye. "Two senior officers undergo a serious assault and abduction and yet the man responsible is not only still roaming free but still in place in his job. That… that makes no sense to me. Why would that be? I tried speaking to them about it. Charges were made by someone at Fenchurch West but they were dropped. I asked DCI Drake and she clammed up. I asked the Guv and he said it wasn't his decision and that even if it was he'd only get it wrong. Which," his frown increased, "isn't like him either. He usually had no qualms about making everyone else's decisions for them as well as his own."

"You surely must know that some matters require you to be of a certain level of seniority to –"

"No, honestly, this is different," Jake didn't know how to get through to the woman, "it's making me feel paranoid. There's something going on and I don't like it. Something to do with that bastard at Fenchurch West and this –" his expression grew dark, "this new DCI there… who they apparently all know… some kind of wonder woman, they'd have you believe."

"You seem to be experiencing some resentment toward this figure."

Jake pretended to be very interested in the pressed creases in his trouser legs all of a sudden.

"She's not 'all that'," he said.

"So you've met her."

"Met her, helped her out, got scared by her, yeah."

"And does this wonderwoman have a name?"

Jake realised he was behaving like a spoilt brat. He shrugged.

"It doesn't matter," he said, "it's not important."

"It sounds like it is to you, Jake."

Jake shook his head slowly.

"I'm being ridiculous, he said quietly, "missing something I never had. Which you're not supposed to be able to do, are you?"

The psychologist laid down her pen.

"I think," she began, "that sometimes the old sayings are not always the most factually accurate things you can refer to."

Jake nodded slowly. He closed his eyes as he thought about the almosts.

"Then," he said quietly, "that's my problem. I'm missing what I never had."

~xXx~

"Why can't I get over this?" Marci's voice was quiet as she spoke to the ground, "I can't miss something I never truly had."

The psychologist watched Marci as she slowly, absently ripped a tissue down the middle, watching all the tiny fibres escaping into the air.

"Actually," she began gently, "this is a matter that someone else has expressed to me just this morning. And I think you should be easier on yourself, Marci. You can miss the possibility as much as you can miss what it could have meant for your life."

Marci's eyes finally met the woman's.

"I just keep seeing it again and again, the two explosions, saving his life the first time…" she swallowed, "and then watching him lose it the second." She began to tear the tissue into further segments "I'm such a bitch," she closed her eyes briefly, "everyone thinks I'm so nicey-nicey… I try to be kind and put people at ease, even when they're in the cells for doing something that turns my stomach. But Eddie,…. I was horrible to him. I didn't give him a chance. Not until it was too late anyweay."

"Fondness and affection can manifest in different ways."

"In our case it was like being on the playground."

"Some of the best partnerships are ones where you can banter."

"This wasn't banter, this was a full programme of mutual annoyance." Her heart sank, "but," she whispered, "I kind of enjoyed it. I guess I'd had to to keep it going. And I think he did too." She stared at the tissue as she tore yet another strip. "And I guess I miss that too. Picking on him. Having him follow me round, teasing back and forth. Ever since I joined the station he was always there for me. When I'd had a hard day I knew he'd be there at the bar to buy a round and cheer me up with his rubbish chat-up lines." She shook her head, "and then my friend Shaz. Sharon. She works in the canine unit. She's always trying to help me because she thinks we have this in common. She lost her girlfriend last year. And I get that she wants to help but those two were in love. I have no idea what I would have had with Eddie. I don't know if we were going to be a fling or a friendship or forever."

"Perhaps it's the fact you will never truly know that you are grieving for," the psychologist said quietly.

Marci took a deep breath and began to tear down another strip of tissue.

"I just wish I knew how to lay it to rest," she whispered.

~xXx~

"The last time we spoke you were having difficulty dealing with your friend losing her – boyfriend?" the psychologist wasn't sure how to term Eddie's relationship with Marci, "because it was reminding you of your own loss."

Shaz closed her eyes and looked down.

"I don't want to talk about that," she said quietly, "I'm sorry. I don't mean to be disrespectful."

"it was affecting you quite severely last time."

"I'm sorry, but I'm doing better when I don't have to think about it or talk about it," Shaz said quietly.

"You've been trying to keep it under wraps for a very long time, Shaz. A year, isn't it?"

Shaz looked down and blinked away a tear.

"I thought I was dealing with it until this brought it back," Shaz told her, "I've been trying to help Marci but it's so hard when I know how long it takes to start moving past it."

"It sounds as though your relationship was a lot more serious than hers."

Shaz shrugged.

"Grief is grief," she said, "it doesn't always follow rules. She's devastated, miss. And all I can do is to listen."

"Maybe that's what she needs."

"But it's so hard getting her to talk."

"Then just be there waiting when she needs to."

Shaz nodded slowly.

"But what if I can't help her at all, miss?" she asked, "no one could help me."

"Then," the woman began, "give her the strength to help herself."

Shaz nodded slowly. She could only try.

~xXx~

"I don't know if she's strong enough to help herself," Robin closed his eyes, "She's trapped in that place, trying to protect us, and she's in danger."

"Robin, you won't tell me what you mean but you keep citing the fact that she's in danger. It sounds as though this is a matter for the police."

Robin gave a bitter laugh. The woman had no idea what she was saying.

"Yeah. Right."

"You seem to be fixated on your ex-girlfriend as a distraction from what you went through on election night."

Robin rolled his eyes.

"She is not my ex," he said crossly, "we just… can't be together right now."

"To me that sounds like you are no longer a couple."

"Then what do you know?" Robin hissed. He growled with frustration, more at himself than anything, "I'm sorry, I'm just… I don't want to be here right now. My head is in a mess."

"Robin, that's why you're here. You're here to talk about what you've been through. To help yourself to come to terms with it."

"What I've been through is nothing," Robin said quietly. He'd been through worse. "It's what I'm going through now I can't handle." He closed his eyes as how mind added silently, 'heartbreak'

~xXx~

"I don't want to break his heart," Alex said quietly, "and I don't want to feel this way. But I do." She swallowed, "I haven't stopped loving him. But I've stopped trusting him. And that's almost as bad. My trust in Gene is sometimes the only thing that gets me through. If we don't have that then we just… have nothing at all."

"You know that Gene had to make decisions on the spur of the moment and he did only what he thought was best. He had no way of knowing what was about to happen."

"You see, you say that and it makes sense, it makes perfect sense but I can't help blaming him." Alex shook her head. "Maybe because he's blaming himself. He's changed. Too much. His strength and self-assuredness have gone. He won't even decide whether to get a single or double latte any more in case he makes the wrong decision. He's not Gene… he's not my Gene any more."

"Perhaps he needs someone else to show confidence in him to help bring back his confidence in himself."

"I'm sorry…. I can't do that. He needs to look elsewhere for that."

"And where do your feelings for this… Kim… fit into the equation?"

Alex closed her eyes.

"They don't," she whispered.

"You just opened up about –"

"They don't because she's shut herself away from us," Alex whispered, "and she's never going to see or speak to us again." She shook her head slowly as she felt a little sick. "Gene couldn't help me. And I can't help her."

The world suddenly seemed a crueller place than even Alex had realised.

~xXx~

A/N: Please don't hate me for the angst – I know the beginning is dark but it does get brighter. Tissue warning for the next chapter.