Disclaimer: BBC, Kudos, Monastic and Mary Hoffman own everything, all I do is borrow it...

Thanks so much to everyone who's still reading this, and for all the lovely reviews for Chapter 6! You've all been urging me to update, so here, hot off the pocket PC, is the next instalment. Remember, the more reviews I get, the more encouragement I have to update quickly...

Four astonished pairs of eyes stared at her. Although it went against her every instinct, she looked at the interviewee's side of the table, where Gene sat with Evan beside him. Evan? Here? Behind her, Ray also declared himself for the tape, but nobody paid him any attention.

"Alex! Thank God!" Evan almost laughed in his surprise.

Alex could only gaze at Gene, feasting her eyes on the sight of him. He stared at her, white as a sheet, hope and joy dawning on his haggard, exhausted face. Oh, my poor love. My Lion at bay.

"Bloody 'ell! Bolly?" he whispered. "Bolly?"

"Oh, Gene - " she gasped, holding out her arms to him.

Slowly, awfully, he rose to his feet.

"DI DRAKE, WHERE THE EVERLASTIN', THUNDERIN', BLUE-BLAZIN', FUCKIN' BLOODY 'ELL FIRE 'AVE YOU BEEN?"

I can't blame him for being furious with me. I don't even want to think what this last fortnight has been like for him. I've lost his love. But at least I can clear him. That's why I was needed here. Even if I never see him again, I'll save him.

"Gene, I'm so sorry, I - " She lurched and nearly fell. Quick as thought, Gene came around the table and caught her.

"Steady, Bols. You're not well. I didn't realise," he said more gently. Suddenly he caught her so tightly in his arms that she could hardly breathe. She sagged luxuriously against him, drinking in the warmth and strength and life of him, the solid comfort of his body, the scent of him, his racing heartbeat, his arms around her, supporting and sustaining her. She felt alive as she had not done since she had last been with him.

Alive and safe.

"Oh, love," he whispered. "Thought I'd never see you again..." Looking up, he caught sight of the two investigating officers staring at them open-mouthed, and treated them to the full force of his glare.

"What are you starin' at?" he snarled. "Give 'er a chair, you morons! Can't you see she's ill?" Alex smiled into his chest, silently exultant at the way her sudden return had restored his authority. His erstwhile tormentors jumped to their feet and one of them pushed his chair forward.

"I found 'er in the street just now, Guv," said Ray, as Gene tenderly lowered her into the chair. "She looked right out of it. She can 'ardly walk."

"Thanks, Ray," said Gene absently. "Water - " Evan poured some water from a carafe on the table into a glass and passed it to Gene, who knelt in front of Alex and held it to her lips. She took a couple of sips and shook her head, and he put the glass down.

"Carling, get Granger to make 'er some tea, wi' plenty of sugar! Yes, I know she doesn't take it, but it's good for shock! Just go!" he snapped. Ray nodded, muttered his departure for the tape which ran on unheeded, and disappeared. Gene sat back on his heels and gazed at her, for a moment lost to everything but the woman who had suddenly been restored to him.

"Bolly, it - it is you?"

Without a word, she slipped her hand inside his jacket and laid it over his heart. Gently, he laid his hand over hers and nodded his understanding.

"But, DI Drake, where have you been?" said Arrogant Voice, behind her. "You must be aware that there's been a full-scale search for you over the past fortnight. Considerable police resources have been devoted to finding you. At the very least you owe us, and DCI Hunt, an explanation."

Alex hesitated. Why do they have to ask me when I'm too tired to think straight? She had anticipated telling Gene everything, although getting him to believe me will be hard enough, but somehow she had never imagined having to explain in front of strangers. The truth won't do, but what can I say? She hung her head wearily, and the scarf slipped to the floor like a snake.

"Your 'air..." said Gene, puzzled. " 'S' different - " He reached out to touch a straight, shining lock, and she flinched as his hand brushed her wounded temple. "What is it, love?"

"Nothing - "

"Don't look like nothing to me. No, let me look." She tried to pull away as he gently lifted her hair aside, revealing her scar. His face contorted with horror. "JESUS CHRIST ALMIGHTY! Who did this?"

The others crowded around. "That's a bullet wound!" said Arrogant Voice, who turned out be short, stoutish and red-faced.

"What kind of stitches are those?" added Harsh Voice, who was as thin and miserable-looking as the proprietor of an unsuccessful health food emporium.

Hell. How do I explain this?

"Who did this, Bolly?" Gene's voice was ominously quiet, and she inwardly shrank from his cold fury, even though she knew that it was not directed at her. "What bastard dared do this to my girl?" Something of her fear must have communicated itself to him, as he added more gently, "Don't look so scared, love. Whatever's 'appened to you, you're safe 'ere. You're in a police station, for fuck's sake. You're surrounded by coppers. You couldn't be safer than you are 'ere."

"I'm always safe with you, Gene," she said softly, taking his hand in hers and reaching out to touch his cheek. "Wherever I am." He nodded, looking uncomfortable. Behind her, she could almost feel the surprise of the investigating officers as a tangible thing. Knowing Gene only from his violent reputation, they were astonished to discover the gentleness and tenderness of which he was capable.

Four decades of feminism are telling me not to go all soft and yielding. I'll ruin my image at this station forever, and Gene is embarrassed because I've made him look a jessie. But all that matters now is making these people see how much we love and trust each other, and that Gene would never, ever hurt me.

"DI Drake," said Arrogant Voice, with the air of a man who knew that he was about to put his foot in it but felt that it was his duty to speak, "if it would make it any easier for you, we can ask DCI Hunt to leave the room."

"Oh, no!" She gripped Gene's hand tightly. "Don't let them send you away!" She turned to face the speaker, still holding onto Gene's hand, and made her brow furrow with a look of pretty, feminine inquiry. "What do you mean? Why should I want Gene to go?"

"They thought I killed you, love," Gene said grimly behind her. "They thought I 'it you too 'ard an' disposed of the body."

"What?" She turned back to him, wide-eyed with horror. "You? " She rounded on the luckless investigating officers. "But that's ridiculous! Which one of you - you divs thought that one up?"

"Er, Drake, you are addressing a senior officer 'ere," Gene rumbled, trying unsuccessfully to keep the undercurrent of amusement out of his voice. Behind him, she was aware of Evan's keen relish of the situation. "DCI Fox and DI Hathaway."

"I don't care who they are!" she exploded, turning back to them. "How could you possibly think that my Gene could do something like that? He'd never hurt me, or any woman! He has more chivalry in his little finger than a lot of so-called gentlemen have in their whole bodies! He has absolutely nothing to do with my disappearance! Wasn't it enough for him to bear that I'd vanished, but you had this ludicrous suspicion -"

"All right, DI Drake, we accept that DCI Hunt had nothing to do with your disappearance," said Arrogant Voice heavily. "But if he didn't, who did?"

Suddenly she felt exhausted again, and her head sagged. How do I get out of this?

"You'll 'ave to tell us, love," said Gene gently. His face tensed. "Would - would it be easier for you to talk without any blokes present? We can find another woman officer - "

Good God, the Genie turned sensitive. Who'd have thought it?

"No, no, I can talk here, now." He visibly relaxed. I see now. He's afraid that I've been raped.

I can tell them the truth about my shooting. Just not when it happened.

She looked up at Gene. "Lay - " she began. He pressed her hand encouragingly, and she checked herself.

This is 1982. Layton's been in jail since he shot me last February. I can't name him.

"Yes?"

"I - I didn't see his face," she amended hesitantly. "That morning - I woke up with a bad headache, you went out and left me to sleep it off. After about an hour, I woke up feeling better, and decided I'd try to come to work. I must have left the flat - about ten forty-five, I think. Not sure. I came down the outside stairs. At the foot - just as I was about to step forward to the kerb - I felt a gun in my back."

Gene hissed as though suppressing the pain from a wound.

"Voice in my ear - didn't recognise it - told me to turn round into the alley. He came round behind me so I still didn't see him. He was so close - must have looked to passers by as though he had his arm around me. There was a car parked there - green - Fiat I think - R-reg - can't remember the full registration - too scared. He told me to get in and drive. I did. He got in the back. I looked in the driving mirror - he was crouched down low, I couldn't see him but he had the gun in the gap between the seats - it was poking in my ribs. We drove east, towards Docklands - can't remember all the route, but I remember passing Tower Bridge. Somewhere along there - can't remember where - he told me to stop and get out. He made me go down a gangway and onto an old boat. He took me below and made me sit on the floor. It was the only time I faced him, but there was light coming in from the side and it dazzled me. Still couldn't see his face. He pointed the gun at me and fired. Must have lost consciousness. Can't remember anything else... until Ray found me outside just now."

The silence when she had finished was broken, characteristically, by Gene. "Bastard!"

"DI Drake, it's strange that you have quite a good recollection of events leading up to the shooting, but nothing at all beyond it," said Harsh Voice.

"That could be down to shock," said Arrogant Voice. "It can cause temporary gaps in the memory."

"She might 'ave been kept drugged since the shooting," Gene added thoughtfully. "Carling said she was out of it when 'e found 'er. She can 'ardly stand now. Could just be weakness if she 'asn't been fed, but there might be more to it than that."

"But why should she kidnapped, shot, and then released?" said Harsh Voice. "It doesn't make sense."

"I 'ate to say "told you so"," said Gene, not sounding as though he hated it at all, "but it would fit in with me original theory that she was snatched by someone with a grudge against me or my team. She got taken to a boat somewhere in Docklands, past Tower Bridge. That was Arthur Layton's patch. He used to own most of the floaters along there until we put 'im inside. Drake might 'ave been snatched by a stray member of 'is gang we didn't net. We need to check who might 'ave taken over those boats along with Layton's territory. Or the snatch might 'ave been done by a hired gun workin' for a bigger cheese. God knows we've pissed off a lot of criminals since she joined my team. Then the search got so well publicised they didn't dare 'old 'er any longer. Thank God they turned 'er loose instead of killin' 'er," he added with a deep sigh, and drew an arm around her.

"Whoever it was, they were careless to leave this behind," said Harsh Voice, taking Alex's left hand and looking curiously at her ring. "What criminal leaves diamonds and gold?"

"It's engraved inside," said Alex, withdrawing her hand with a look of distaste. "Very recognisable."

"Yeah, and a full description of it was included in all the press releases an' TV appeals," Gene added. "Including the engraving. Every jeweller in the country's been on the lookout for it. If anyone 'ad tried to sell it, it would 'ave been dynamite."

"Of course, so far all this is only theorising," Arrogant Voice cut in pompously, "but - "

"DI Carling entered the interview room at nine fifty-two," Ray announced as he came in with Alex's tea.

"RIGHT!" Gene slammed his fist on the table, rose to his feet, almost snatched the tea from Ray and pushed it into Alex's hands. "You get that down you, Bols. Carling, Drake tells us she was snatched off the street outside Luigi's by some toerag who took 'er to a boat on the north bank of the Thames, somewhere in Docklands, an' shot 'er. I want the team to do a full check on the registered owners of all the boats moored on the north bank of the Thames in the Greater London area. Anythin' bigger than a chamber pot, I wanna know about it. Someone's done the Bayeux Tapestry on 'er face. Might be a villain with medical knowledge, but put out a query to all 'ospitals, surgeons, doctors, private practices an' medical students. Give 'em Drake's picture. Look for witnesses who might 'ave seen a R-reg green car, probably a Fiat, drivin' along the north bank of the river towards Docklands between ten-thirty an' midday the mornin' Drake disappeared. Put the word out for any vehicle fitting that description which was stolen two to three weeks ago or that's been abandoned or resprayed since. Might 'ave 'ad its numberplates changed too. Get Granger to take Drake to the medics. I want 'em to give 'er a full MOT, includin' blood tests, check 'er for drugs, general state of 'ealth, anything which might indicate where she's been an' what's been 'appening to 'er. Get Forensics to collect 'er clothes for analysis. Then send Granger out to get 'er some things to wear until Forensics send back the rest of 'er clothes back. Well, what are you waitin' for, my personal rendition of 'Appy days are 'ere again? DO IT NOW!" Ray fled.

"Er, DCI Hunt," said Arrogant Voice, seeming diminished by the whirlwind that was Gene, "I would like to point out that you are still officially suspended - "

"I believe, gentlemen," Evan interrupted with quiet triumph, "that as the alleged murder victim has reappeared alive and well, and has testified that my client had nothing to do with her disappearance, he must be free to go without a stain on his character."

Client?

"Yes. Of course," Arrogant Voice muttered uneasily.

"And that his suspension must be lifted with immediate effect."

Arrogant Voice visibly deflated. "Yes. I'll go and speak to the Superintendent straight away."

"And he should receive a full offical apology."

"Yes. I'll tell the Superintendent."

"Yes, an' I want my office back," said Gene grimly. "I'm goin' to apply to the Super to assign me to this investigation. This is my officer that some bastard pinched off the street, in full view of my station, and she's my fiancée. Drake an' I both want our flats an' our clothes, soft furnishings an' bedding back, AN' I WANT MY CAR!"

"I'll have crime scene status removed from both locations and arrange for your property to be returned to you in good order as soon as possible," Arrogant Voice muttered sullenly.

"Good. Drake'll probably want to go 'ome and lie down when the medics 'ave finished with 'er," said Gene firmly. "She's 'ad a bad time, an' she'll need familiar surroundings, not some bloody soulless 'otel."

Evan rose and shut his briefcase with a decisive snap. "Well, Hunt, I'll be going. You won't be needing me for a while, now you have an investigation to run."

Gene shook his hand, while Alex watched open-mouthed. "Thanks for everything, White."

"Think nothing of it," said Evan, smiling. "The important thing is that Alex is safe. I know you'll take good care of her."

Ouch. That was aimed at the investigating officers.

"Of course," said Gene gravely.

"It's good to see you back, Alex," said Evan, leaning over and smiling at her. "We'll talk later, Hunt." As he opened the door, he almost collided with Shaz, who was standing outside with her hand raised to knock.

"Granger!" Gene barked. "Get Drake along to the medics. Finished your tea, Bols? See you later. I'm off to kick a certain pompous little prat out of my office so fast 'e'll bounce all the way down the corridor!"

He whirled out, leaving a round-eyed Shaz to help Alex to her feet and steer her out of the interview room.

As Ray once said, Jeez, are we back to normal.

TBC