The hiatus went on a bit longer than planned... :s but I return with a new lease of life/writing and can't wait to update this again.


When he heard the broken television crackle into life once more, Gene tried to ignore it. It was the early hours of the morning and he was still half asleep as he opened his eyes to see the light from the screen illuminate the room.

He drew the blanket tighter around himself, turning his back to the television and squeezing his eyes shut. It wasn't real, there was no way it could be real, he just had to ignore it until it went away. He was fine here. Whatever had happened, had happened. He didn't understand why six months had reversed, but if he could hold onto the present he found himself in, he knew the reason why would reveal itself.

'What's that?' he heard his father's voice ask from the screen.

'No. No, I'm not listening,' Gene murmured, cringing closer to the wall away from the television. Acknowledging the broken television that was running behind him would not help him, it only reminded him that he was not where he was meant to be.

'It's for Gene when he gets back,' his mother replied. Gene couldn't help himself, he climbed out of bed to see his parents and Will sitting in their kitchen having dinner. Stuart was leaning against the sink, staring intently out of the window.

'When's he due back?' Stuart asked.

'Don't ask me. Though I wouldn't have thought it hard for a nineteen year old boy to let his mother know what time he would be back, or whether he wanted dinner,' Evelyn said crossly, beginning to wash up their dishes, 'It's not too much to ask, is it?'

'No, love,' Stephen answered wearily.

'I'm going to go see if I can find him,' Stuart announced, 'We're going home tomorrow, and he hasn't even met his bloody niece yet!' he continued, grabbing a jacket and heading out the back door.

'Niece?' Gene repeated, unable to hold back a smile, 'Good work, told you it would be all right.'

'Can I come?' Will asked.

'No, finish your dinner,' their mother instructed.

'Regina… it's tragic, lumbering the poor kid with a name like that. Stuart must get it from you,' Stephen commented to Evelyn.

'Nancy chose it, actually, and I think after all that hard work she can name her what she likes! Besides, it was for the coronation, and for Gene if he ever comes back to see her,' Evelyn said, lifting a full plate of food from the table to put aside for her second son.

'Regina? Idiot, I told him to leave my name out of it,' Gene muttered, shaking his head disbelievingly at the screen. Once again, his perception of what had happened was turned upside down. Now his madness wasn't even as simple as he had previously thought, thinking that time had lost its usual linear approach and was now doing whatever it pleased. Instead, it appeared that time was continuing as two parallel lines, one slightly ahead of the other… and which one was real? He had been sure it was June, then had been forced to consider that he may have been wrong and was now confronted with two realities that it was difficult to spot the differences between.

'Well, he's not having that,' Stephen snapped suddenly, taking the plate out of Evelyn's hands.

'Stephen, I was going to leave it out for when he comes home-'

'If he can't be arsed to come home in time for dinner, then he won't have any dinner,' Stephen explained, putting the plate on the floor as Holiday shot over and cleared the plate, 'He's not a child.'

Evelyn closed her eyes briefly and bit back the idea of pointing out the many times Stephen had come home late and had been furious to find no dinner for him. Instead, she excused Will and sent him outside to play.

'Oh, come on! Someone must be able to hear me!' Gene snapped, shaking the television in frustration when none of his family spoke for quarter of an hour. He didn't like watching, he didn't want to see life progressing without him in it, but at the same time, couldn't take his eyes off the screen in case he missed something that might give him a clue of where he was.

Stuart appeared moments later, bursting through the back door looking agitated.

'What's wrong with you?' Stephen asked, lighting a cigarette for himself. Stuart stole an uneasy glance at Evelyn, currently with her back to them as she dried the dinner plates.

'Don't let Mam know, I don't want to worry her,' Stuart began in a low voice, leaning across the table to his father.

'What? What is it? What's happened to me?' Gene shouted, straining to hear Stuart's hushed tone.

'What?' Stephen repeated in shock and for the briefest moment Gene thought they had heard him.

'What's the matter, love?' Evelyn asked, turning to face them. Stuart said nothing, but continued to look worried.

'Eugene hasn't been at the station since Tuesday,' Stephen answered, 'None of them have seen him since then.'

'But… Tuesday was… that was two days ago! We must've seen him since then!' Evelyn answered, looking surprised, 'He was out Tuesday night and… oh, yesterday I took Nancy to the hospital but I thought he came in that night? Stephen, you must've seen him last night?'

'I didn't see him.'

'Well, where is he?' Evelyn demanded, 'Surely someone saw him after the coronation?'

'I'm going to go have a look for him,' Stuart suggested, 'Dad, are you coming?'

'No, if he wants to throw a career away to nurse a hangover, then the lazy little git can do as he likes… I'm going to the pub.'

'Maybe he's there? I'll go with you.'

'All right, if that bastard's gone AWOL from the police for a drink there'll be hell to pay.'

'No, he wouldn't do that, he wouldn't just go off. You- you don't think something's happened, do you?' Evelyn asked worriedly.

'Hopefully not before I get my hands on him,' Stephen replied, slamming the back door shut after him.

'Where're they going?' Will asked, throwing open the back door to find his mother nervously biting at her fingernail.

'Oh, just to the pub, darling.'

'Is Gene going with them?'

'Why don't we go and see how Nancy and Regina are getting on?' Evelyn suggested, the first of what would be many avoidances of Will's questions of the whereabouts of his brother.

'No, no, wait! I'm still here! I'm not missing, I'm here! Tell me what's happened!' Gene pleaded as the screen faded to darkness. He was lost again, hovering somewhere between life and death, still in the terrible nightmare he had awoken in. He was slowly, painfully beginning to wonder again whether this was the second chance he thought had hoped it was or if this existence of looking at everyone he cared for from behind a screen was to be his future.

'Are you ill?' Keats asked as Gene put his head in his hands at his desk, his eyesight blurring from reading files all morning.

'No. It's just a headache.'

'You look like death.'

'Where's Amy?' Gene asked, changing the subject as he rubbed his tired eyes. He had woken again on the floor of his room, curled uncomfortably in front of the television screen and wondering whether he had dreamed the whole thing.

'WPC Wells has gone back to the Royal Infirmary, apparently May went there not long before she disappeared. Amelia said you two spoke to someone there about Nicola McLarnon?' Keats replied.

'We got the name from a porter there. But it turned out to be May.'

'And he told you it was May?'

'No, Amy showed him the picture, he thought she was Nicola.'

'She should be back soon enough. We'll see what she's discovered then.

'Sir, what you were saying about Superintendent Hale-' Gene began, glancing around uneasily and shuffling the files on his desk.

'Yes?'

'Well, I was just wondering…'

'About what? You heard him and Wells arguing yesterday, he doesn't want to listen to anyone, he doesn't think anyone but him has any idea about solving crimes.'

'But I sort of thought he was right yesterday, we can't let Amy get hurt and-'

'Hunt: he won't listen to you or her because he wants to stay in control,' Keats snapped sounding exasperated as he rounded on Gene, 'If he isn't in control, you might be able to solve this yourself. It's the only way to escape.'

'Then if I do this, it's for me. Not to attack him, all right? I have to leave here and if that means Hale-'

'Take control, Hunt. What will be, will be. If this affects Hale, then so be it… How have you been sleeping?' Keats asked offhandedly.

'What? Oh, erm… not well, actually,' Gene admitted.

'No?'

'Bad dreams, nightmares.'

'Yeah, you'll get used to them, the longer you stay.'

When it had gone lunch and Wells had not returned, Gene was unwillingly sent out to fetch her. Already unhappy at being assigned the role of Wells' babysitter, he felt equally resentful towards Hale, beginning to wonder if there was some truth in what Keats said about Hale preventing him from taking control. If he needed to be in control of this place, then being Hale's skivvy wouldn't do him any favours. As he made his way to the hospital he was incredibly aware of his surroundings and the physical sensations of his breathing, the movement of his legs, his heart pounding. He knew it was irrational, but felt it was important to remain aware of his being in this world. He didn't fully trust it would remain standing if he wasn't keeping an eye on it.

'Oh, yes, the young lady was talking to a gentleman outside,' one of the nurses gestured to the stone steps where Gene had previously sat with her when they asked the nurse for Amelia's whereabouts. When they had reached the hospital, Amelia was nowhere to be found, 'You've just missed her, she left about five minutes ago…'

'She was talking to one of your porters here, I think. Do you know which one she was talking to?'

'Oh no, she wasn't talking to a porter. I don't know who he was, but he doesn't work here.'

'Oh. Did she say where she was going?' Gene frowned.

'How should I know?' the nurse replied.

'And she didn't leave a message for me or anything?'

'I'm not your bloody secretary!' she answered irritably.

'Fine,' he snapped, equally annoyed. Typical of Wells to just go wandering off without any explanation and lead him on a completely wasted journey. He suspected she had already gone back to the station and was informing Hale of some new development, which he would now be out of the loop of. He was still unsure whether he could even trust Wells. She was aware of the strangeness of this place as much as he was… or was she? What if she was in on it and was meant to confuse him even further? Were she and Hale conspiring against him? No, he didn't think he truly believed that. Whilst he was sure that Hale knew more than he was letting on, and perhaps Wells did too, he knew in his guts that they weren't plotting against him and mentally chastised himself for thinking so, holding lack of sleep responsible. Hale was his Guv and he was supposed to trust him unreservedly, and that extended to the whole team. If they didn't trust each other how could they work together?

Almost independent of his own will, he found himself turning in the opposite direction of the station and treading the familiar route home. He had to make sure everything was still all right. The hallucinations frightened him, it was bad enough considering that he may have been mad all along, living in his own fantasy several months ahead of everyone else. However, the persistence of these hallucinations on the television screen and how real they seemed was terrifying and confusing and he wished there was some way to prove definitively which was real.

When he reached his parents' home, he almost expected it to find the house empty, stripped bare as though their existence in this world had been swept away. Yet he was still greeted by Holiday when he pushed the gate open and his mother still existed when he let himself into the kitchen.

'Aren't you ever at work?' Evelyn demanded. Gene scowled, then noticed the likely cause for his mother's bad temper; Nancy was sitting at their kitchen table, hands wrapped around a steaming mug of tea, crying quietly.

'What's the matter, Nance?' Gene asked quietly, sitting down beside her.

'It's Stuart,' she began, taking a deep, shuddering breath, 'He's… he's just-' she choked, dissolving into another flood of tears.

'Oh, God, I remember this. It's about the baby, isn't it?' Gene sighed.

'He's already told you? Have you seen him?' Nancy asked confusedly.

'Oh, erm…Yeah, he has,' Gene replied for simplicity's sake. He didn't think the truth would help in this situation.

'He didn't say anything to me. He just walked out last night after I told him and I haven't seen him since.'

'Oh, Nance, listen to me: he will come around and everything will be all right. I promise you.'

'It's a big thing for him to take in,' Evelyn agreed sympathetically, 'Give it a little while and he'll get his head in gear.'

'It will be all right, he'll make it right. He loves you, of course he does… and she'll be beautiful. Really beautiful.'

'She?'

'Or- or he,' Gene amended, 'Look, stop worrying, I'll talk to him… properly,' he reassured her. Nancy looked comforted by this and drank her tea between small hiccups. Hoping he would be able to find Stuart quickly, Gene stood up and turned around to find himself face to face with his father, staring worriedly over his shoulder at his daughter-in-law.

'What's wrong, darlin'?' Stephen asked Nancy and his face set in a hard line when she explained between renewed sobs.

'Thank you, sweetheart,' Evelyn said to Gene, kissing his cheek lightly, 'What would I do without you?'

'S'all right, Mam. Didn't do much.'

'You're a good boy, you always have been. You wouldn't just run out like that.'

'That's what I'm trying to do, Mam, I'm trying to stay where I'm meant to be, that's why I have to work this place out-'

'You're coming with me,' Stephen informed Gene.

'Actually, I'm supposed to be-'

'Now!' Stephen ordered.

'Make sure he stays calm,' Evelyn told Gene, who nodded helplessly. If Stephen chose to lose it with Stuart there was going to be very little Gene could do about it. He wondered whether brandishing his warrant in front of his father's face would have any more effect in this world than the other.

'Where d'you suppose he is?' Stephen asked as they made their way through winding alleyways.

'Pub, maybe?' Gene shrugged, 'Dad, don't you think-?'

'What?'

'Just give him a while to calm down.'

'No, he needs to come back and make amends,' Stephen replied, marching a couple of paces ahead of Gene.

'And he will. It's going to be worse if you force him back now-'

'Would you do this?' Stephen asked suddenly, rounding on him, 'If you got a girl in trouble, would you just piss off to the pub with your mates?'

'No, of course not, I'd-' Gene began indignantly.

'Exactly. Me and you, we're not like that. If there's one thing that you've learned from your poxy job, it's a bit of honour. Now come on.'

'Look, I bet you anything he'll be back home with her tomorrow. We should give him some time.'

'No. You saw what a state she's in. The only place he needs to be is with his bloody wife… Right, this is where he usually is,' Stephen said, forcing his way into the busy pub and pulling Gene with him. Stuart was hunched in a corner over a pint and blanched when he saw the two of them approaching.

'What the hell d'you think you're doing?' Stephen demanded.

'Oh, leave me out of it,' Stuart complained and Gene could tell he was already drunk.

'Come on, Stu-'

'Piss off!'

'Outside, now,' Stephen growled, lifting Stuart bodily to his feet and hauling him outside.

'What are you playing at? I've got your wife crying in my kitchen because of you!'

'I can't do it… I'm not ready for this, and-'

'And sometimes you've just got to get on with it!'

'Stu, listen, it's going to be-'

'What would you know about it?' Stuart snapped at Gene.

'He's got more sense than you,' Stephen replied, 'You've just got to grit your teeth and do what's right.'

'I never thought it would be so soon, I mean… we've only been married a year.'

'These things happen and you've got to rise to it. When your mother told me she was having you, I didn't have a fucking clue. I had to get married, get a house and work my arse off… because that's what you do. It's about honour; you look after your girl when she needs you. You don't piss off down the pub.'

'But-'

'You can't let them down. It's your job to look after them.'

'I can't-'

'There's no can or can't. You've got to.'

'It's not like you're on your own, is it, mate? Thought you said Nancy's mam keeps asking when you're going to have kids? She'll be all over it like a rash,' Gene added after a minute or two. Stuart appeared to have also been stunned into silence by their father's sudden outburst of morals when he silently nodded, staring at the ground uncomfortably.

'Right. Let's get you home,' Stephen said, seizing Stuart's arm, not trusting him to make his own way back to their home.

'You go on,' Gene sighed when his father and brother turned back expectantly. He needed a drink, or several. Despite the loneliness of this place, he didn't want to see anyone, didn't want to talk with anyone. All he wanted was to sit in the pub and wallow in his misery. He hated this place, pre-warned and anticipating what would happen next was no good if he couldn't do anything about it. How was he supposed to convince anyone he knew what was going to happen without sounding completely out to lunch?

After five pints- or had it been six?- it occurred to Gene that the best thing to do would be to speak to Amelia about his dissatisfaction. He still suspected she knew more than she was letting on and now he was growing weary of this world, he'd learned his lesson and wasn't content to wait any longer.

'Amy! Oi, Wells! Amy, I want to talk to you!' he yelled, standing below the window of her room. The world shuddered beneath his feet when he bent over to pick up a stone to throw at the window, cursing Amelia furiously. The daylight of the cold December day had already faded and there was no light on in Amelia's room.

'What on earth are you doing?!' her landlady shrieked when the small stone Gene threw pinged against the window pane.

'I'm… I'm looking for Amy,' he replied, glowering back at the angry face that had emerged from an upstairs window.

'Well, she's not in. I'm surprised she's not drunk with you, brother indeed! If she wants to live in sin with some drunkard then she can find new rooms to do it in!'

'So, where is she?'

'How should I know? Now, piss off!'

'Charming.'


'Where did you and your little friend disappear off to yesterday afternoon?' Hale demanded as soon as Gene sat down at his desk the next morning, hoping that he had managed to sidle in unnoticed.

'What?'

'You and Wells. Listen hear: I thought I told you not to get distracted? I'll let it go this time, but if you want to shag the plonks, do it in your own time, got it?'

'I was not-! I thought Amy came back here? She wasn't at the hospital when I got there,' Gene replied confusedly, fighting to keep the colour from rising to his face. Hale frowned.

'No. I assumed the pair of you had skived off after I sent you out for her.'

'I didn't see her.'

'Hmm. Well, she's a smart girl, as she's keen to show us, probably chasing some lead. I'll give her a bollocking when she gets back. Not the same kind you want to give her, obviously,' Hale shrugged, laughing at the scowl on Gene's face before dumping a pile of paperwork on his desk, Hale's ideal form of punishment.

Later that evening he was still trapped behind his desk, hastily knocking back some oxtail soup as he sifted through the never-ending stack of files he seemed to be constantly handed by either Keats or Hale, one noticing when Gene had almost worked his way through the other's pile before dumping more in front of him. The last straw was the incessant ringing of the phone, another duty that appeared to have fallen to him.

'CID. What?' he snapped.

'Gene? Is that you?' Amelia asked, not quietly, but in the smallest voice he had heard her speak, timid and fragile.

'Amy?' he asked. She said nothing for a moment or two and instead took a deep, shuddering breath.

'Ok, you need to listen carefully-'

'Where have you been all day? Where are you?' he demanded, now suddenly conscious of her continued absence in the office, 'I'm up to my eyes in-'

'Geno, I'm… Oh, God.'

'Amy, are you all right?' he asked concernedly as her voice cracked.

'I'm fine. I'm fine… I'm with Nicola right now- and the person who… do I have to say this?' she whispered distractedly, followed by a murmur at her end of the line.

'Amy, is Nicola alive? Are you all right? Where are you?'

'One of us is going to die tonight. That's what I'm supposed to tell you. One of us is going to die.'

'Who is it? Where are you, Amy?' Gene repeated, straining to hear her. All he could hear were her shallow breaths.

'I… I don't know. Look, I have to go now. Just… tell Aunt Maggie I love her, all right? I have to go now.'

'It's going to be fine, just hold on, all right? We'll find you.'

'Don't you let me die, Hunt-' she whispered before the line cut off abruptly.

'Amy!' he shouted into the dead received, aware now of how tightly he was grasping the receiver.

'Shit! Shit, shit, shit…'

'What are you babbling about?' Hale snapped from his office.

'Amy. It's Amy, she's… someone's taken her,' Gene explained and relayed the telephone conversation to the others.

'Who's Aunt Maggie?' Keats asked.

'Whoever took them was there, I think, that's why she couldn't say much. I don't know- no. Yes, I do. Maggie. She wants us to go to her.'

'Come on, you lot, you heard him! Wells is one of ours, we need to bring her back. Move it! Where are you going?' Hale asked but received no answer as Gene snatched up his jacket and headed out the door.

'Maggie! Open up! Maggie! For Christ's sake- Police! Open up!' he yelled from the street, hammering on the front door of the house in front of him. At those words, the door snapped open and Maggie stood in front of him, wrapping a robe around herself and looking furious.

'Oh, it's you. Do you mind? I've got a punter coming here any minute now- Hey!' she shouted as he barged past her into the flat.

'Look, did you hear anything else about who May went to see? Anything at all?'

'Yeah, I spoke to that girl cop of yours earlier, didn't she tell you?'

'She's in trouble-'

'Ohhh! I get you.'

'What?'

'She needs a number of where to go? Very gentlemanly of you, sorting this all out for her. But you should know, she asked for all this before, I gave her the details earlier. The bloke who May went to see, he can get hold of like hospital stuff, this is all you need to know,' Maggie explained, handing him a scrap of paper with an address written on it. Gene studied it for a moment, then felt a sinking realisation wash over him.

'The bloke May went to see, that Amy's gone to see, does he work at a hospital?'

'Nah.'

'Oh, God. Thanks,' Gene murmured distractedly, dashing back out the front door and bypassing an uncomfortable looking man who kept his head down as he entered the flat.

Gene threw himself into the first phone box he came to and quickly hammered in CID's number.

'Come on, you bastards, pick up!' he shouted frustratedly, moments before he heard the familiar clunk of someone picking up.

'Hale, is that you? Listen-'

'Is it cold in the earth?' a hoarse voice at the other end of the line asked. There was something inhuman in the voice that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Something that smothered the voice and made it sound as though it was speaking from very far away and yet so close at the same time.

'Who is this?'

'Cold and wet under the earth. Blood and mud. Blood and mud… and rot. Can you smell it?'

'Please. Please, no. No. It's not true.'

'Hunt, what is it? What have you got?' Keats sharp voice was suddenly at the other end of the line and the sinking, creeping feeling was gone with the voice.

'Hello?'

'Come on, Hunt, keep it together.'

'I think I know where Amy is,' Gene stammered, still shaken as he reeled off the address he had been given, 'I'm gonna head straight there. We'll need back up.'

Alone, he had forced his way through a smashed windows at Nicholls Hospital. Midway through refurbishment, it was stripped bare and the sound of his footsteps through the empty wards seemed magnified. Holding a torch aloft he was listening intently for any sound, any indication that someone else was alive in there.
What if she's already dead?

She isn't dead, he told himself forcedly. She's going to be all right. He wanted to call out for her, but knew that it might not be only her he was alerting to his presence in the shell of the hospital. If whoever was holding her and Nicola knew he was there, he could easily lose Gene in the maze of the hospital and escape.

'Where are you?' he whispered under his breath. He had covered the entire ground floor and began to creep up one of the staircases to the first floor, the voice he had heard in the phone box still ringing in his ears.

I am alive. He had to keep telling himself that. The pounding of his heart, so loud that he was almost afraid it would give him away, told him it was true. I am alive, and so is she.

Beginning to give up hope that anyone else was in the hospital, he suddenly came face to face with a closed door. Every other door in the hospital was either flung open, or ripped off its hinges. This was it.

As he was about to kick the door open, he was fleetingly reminded of the kitchen door at the farmhouse, also conspicuously closed for whatever reason. Something hiding behind that door as well. Something that would harm him. He froze, painfully aware of the same presence he had felt in that first blindingly white room, pressing against the door and waiting for him to open the door… and what? Release it?

You will die if you open that door. The thought floated, unbidden and not entirely his own, across his mind. It was impossible, he couldn't die in this place. This place wasn't entirely real, death couldn't exist here. Not for him at least.

He was snapped out of his thoughts by the sound of sirens outside. Cursing both Keats and Hale, sure that this would cause the person holding the two women to panic and try to flee, Gene braced himself when he heard running footsteps bolting towards the door and caught Wells when she flung the door open and threw herself into his arms.

'I couldn't think. I panicked,' he muttered, more to himself than her.

'I hit him in the head,' she gasped, 'He's knocked out. I think he needs an ambulance.'

'Wells, what the hell were you playing at?!' Gene snapped, beginning to remember himself, 'This is what Hale means! You can't just-' he berated her, then stopped himself when he felt rather than heard how hard she was crying.

'Oh, Amy. I've got you, love.'

'I've never felt so helpless,' Amelia whispered, perched in the passenger seat of one of the police cars with Gene's jacket around her shoulders, accepting one of his cigarettes when he handed it to her.

'It's not your fault-'

'No, it's this place. If you all had trusted me, listened to me… It might have been different,' she murmured.

'Would it? You said she was already dead by the time he brought you here,' Gene replied, 'There was nothing we could have done for her,' he continued bitterly as they watched as Nicola McLarnon's sheet covered body was carried out of the hospital, 'I promised her husband we'd get her back.'

'At least he'll know,' Amelia replied gently, squeezing his hand, 'More than can be said for us,' she sighed. Gene stroked her hair from her face, exposing the bruise blooming above her eyebrow.

'That sick bastard. I should have pulled him in the first time he mentioned Nicola's name.'

'He was just preying on desperate women. Do you understand what I mean now? They should have been able to go somewhere safe for a termination, not getting a dodgy address from a neighbour and risking their lives.'

'Yeah, yeah, I get it,' Gene replied tiredly, 'Bloody hell, you're still on the suffragette stuff even in this state?'

'What's going to happen to him do you think?' Amelia asked as the man they had mistaken for a porter at the hospital was led, handcuffed, from the building by Hale.

'He'll swing, I should think,' Gene shrugged.

'Hanged?! Oh my God.'

'Why're you so shocked? He would have killed you.'

'It's so… it's barbaric.'

'So's keeping a girl in a room with another dead woman,' Gene replied, shuddering at the thought of Wells locked in one of the old offices with Nicola's body as she had been when she had been instructed to call CID.

'Good work, young'uns,' Hale congratulated them grimly, materialising with Keats at Gene's side.

'Yes, and you only nearly lost one. Well done,' Keats snapped sarcastically, glowering at Hale.

'Next time you try to snag a murderer singlehandedly, Wells, at least keep your old Guv in the loop, there's a good girl… and take Hunt with you, God knows he's not the honey-trap you are, but he comes in handy,' Hale explained, ignoring Keats, 'Come on then: pub.'

'I don't think-' Gene began, helping Wells out of the car.

'I need a scotch. Double,' she interjected, 'You're buying,' she pointed out, nudging him in the ribs.


As ever, hope you enjoyed xx