Thanks for all the fantastic reviews - good to know you're still enjoying this.

Usual acknowledgements etc but special thanks to Louella and Wombledon for some inspirational Bunny dialogue!

Chapter 10 – Kissing the Pink

Gene slammed through the doors leading to CID with all of his accustomed vigour – and then some, startling Shaz as he grunted an acknowledgement and continued into his own office, slamming the door behind him. She looked hesitantly around the office, but there was no one else to exchange knowing glances with or cheeky comments. In fact, it was incredibly early even by the Guv's standards and she wondered if there was something wrong – maybe he had argued with DI Drake again? Or perhaps she wasn't well and the Guv was worried?

Other, more experienced officers in CID would have recognised the grim expression, seen the jut of his chin and determined set of his jaw and left well alone. Unfortunately Shaz was not one of those officers and after making a brew, she ventured into the lion's den.

"What?" Gene barked, without even raising his head from his newspaper.

"Sorry Guv." She smiled and hesitantly placed the mug of tea before him.

"Oh. Thanks Shaz."

She turned to go, but some devil induced her to turn and speak. "I was just wondering how DI Drake is Guv?"

Gene glared. "DI Drake is fine, super, hunky-bleeding-dory if you must know."

"Sorry Guv I…."

"She'll be back to work on Monday Granger – you'll be able to have your little girly chats then. In the meantime, some of us have important work to do. Now be a good girl and bugger off."

"Yes Guv."

Gene glared at her retreating figure and then returned to the 'important work' of reading the newspaper. After a few sips of tea he gave up pretending that he was actually reading the scandal rag that masqueraded as a newspaper, and assumed his usual thinking position – feet on the desk and eyes closed. Wasn't Granger's fault that he was in such a foul mood – she had just happened to be the nearest target to hand.

He sighed deeply. It wasn't even that he was in a bad mood as such – why should he be? After all, Alex was living in his house; she was safe and getting stronger by the day – and living in his house! He should be cock-a-hoop. But the problem was that…Alex was living in his house. And it was driving him crazy! Not the fact that she was there – he quite liked that. The best aspect being that she was there to greet him when he got home, ask him how his day had been, and enthusiastically respond to his kisses.

And therein lay the problem. He loved having her around the house, having someone to talk to, easing the burden of the loneliness that he had only ever admitted to her. But the stark fact was, that all the kissing, snogging, groping and petting had him feeling hornier than a whole herd of rhino, and with no outlet for his frustrations he was just about at breaking point. He couldn't even take matter into his own hands. The last time he had tried she had nearly barged in on him as he had been sat in the bathroom, and since then he hadn't dared.

Still, he consoled himself with the thought that the stitches were coming out soon – Monday morning in fact. They had agreed that she would move back into her own flat at the weekend, go to the hospital on Monday morning to be given the all-clear to start work and then she would report back to CID. He had tried to persuade her to stay for another weekend, although to be quite honest he wasn't sure if his over stimulated body could possibly stand any more. At least he would have the weekend to…do whatever he had to. Alone.

By the time the rest of CID strolled in, he had more or less got his temper under control but he still had the sensation of being like a powder keg waiting to go off – all it would take is one spark.

"Raymondo – get your arse in 'ere."

"Guv?"

"I want an update on Peter Adams' whereabouts. Where is he and why haven't we found him?

"Just bringing you the report Guv." He placed a plain manila file on Gene's desk.

"Tell me."

"He's been spotted in Edinburgh…"

"Edinburgh! What the fuck's he doing there for Christ's sake?"

"Seems he used to go to university there. Anyway, since we put the force-wide alert out, one of his old pals spotted him and reported him to the local plods. Edinburgh CID are onto it now."

Gene flicked open the file. "Well, I might just have to give this…DI Jardine a call – give him some encouragement, find out it I need to get up there."

"Yes Guv. Anything else Guv?"

"Yes. DI Drake will be back on Monday and…"

"She up to it?"

Gene frowned at him. "Yes Ray, she is 'up to it' as you elegantly put it. However she will only be on desk duties to start."

"Ooh, she's gonna hate that."

"Yes I know. That is why I will need your help making sure that's where she stays. Make sure everyone knows – she's not to go off on any wild goose chases – or any shouts for that matter. She's not to step foot out of this building without me knowing."

"Yes Guv."

"And Ray?"

"Yes?"

"I would appreciate it if you could find me an opportunity to bang a few 'eads together. I feel the need to let off some steam."

Ray smiled knowingly. "See what I can do Guv."

Ray bumped into Viv on the way out.

"Guv?"

"Blimey, it's like the bloody M6 in here today. What?"

"Just thought you'd like to know. DCI Warren of Special Branch is on the way over – wants to ask you a few questions."

"Oh joy."

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Alex paused in front of the mirrored wardrobe in her bedroom, parting the bathrobe to reveal her naked form. She grimaced as she surveyed the wreckage that was her stomach, her fingers moving tentatively over the ugly black stitches. God – it was awful. As she poked and prodded the area, testing for soreness she could hardly bring herself to look – and if she couldn't bear to look, then how would Gene feel? Alex didn't see the full breasts, slim waist and shapely figure reflected in the mirror – all she saw was the result of shrapnel tearing into her body and the surgeon's attempt to repair it – and save her life.

She sighed and turned away, wrapping the robe tightly around her. She knew she was lucky to be alive but she couldn't help it. A part of her wanted to be perfect for Gene. When they finally gave in to their urges (and it was only a matter of time) she wanted to be perfect. Silly really and not very 21st century but that's what she felt. In fact she had noticed that her mood had changed for the worse in the past few days, not helped by the vivid nightmares she had been experiencing - nightmares in which she relived the events of Regent's Park in all its horrific detail. Several times she had woken, sweating and shaking with terror and it had taken all of her willpower to remain still and quiet in the middle of the night, resisting the urge to run into Gene's bedroom and fling her arms around him. She knew if she did, that he would comfort her without question, but she also knew that this would be pushing his willpower just a little too far. Besides, she had to deal with this herself.

A voice calling up the stairs interrupted her increasingly gloomy thoughts. "Coo-eee Alex – you up yet?"

"Be right down Mrs D."

By the time Alex was dressed in casual grey jogging pants and zip up top, she could smell fresh coffee brewing along with the delicious aroma of fresh bread. She peered into the kitchen to see the now familiar sight of Gene's daily, her plump and aproned form bustling around the kitchen.

"Ah, there you are my lovely. Coffee? And I brought some of my soda bread – baked a fresh batch this morning.

"Thanks Mrs D – you're an angel."

"Ach, get away with you now. And I've told you before, you can call me Kathleen or Kath if you like."

"But Gene calls you Mrs D?"

"He does that. But then, he's a very old-fashioned sort of gentleman in many ways. Likes to keep the proper relationship between employer and employee, if you know what I mean."

Alex had quickly discovered how Gene managed to keep his house so tidy – a small middle-aged powerhouse of a woman, with a vaguely Irish lilting voice who went by the name of Kathleen. At Gene's behest she had not only kept up her regular cleaning and ironing duties but had provided Alex with daily companionship and a sense of security while Gene was at work; she lived two streets away and could be there in an instant if she was needed.

"Mmm, this is lovely Kath," Alex said, tucking into a slice of heavily buttered soda bread. "Funny, never thought about Gene being a gentleman."

"Oh very much so. He reminds me of my Brian in many ways."

"How is he?" Alex motioned for Kath to sit at the table with her. In the past few days she had all about the ins and outs of Kath's family and especially her pride and joy – her only son Brian. "Have you seen him recently?"

"He popped in yesterday evening and stayed for tea – he's got a very busy social life you know?"

"Yes, I think you mentioned that."

"Well," Kath said with relish, "what with his voluntary work and then the local church groups, it's a blessed wonder he's got time to visit his old Ma at all."

"He's quite religious then?" Alex enquired, as she sipped on her mug of coffee.

Kath raised her eyebrows in response. "More than I'll ever be, to be sure. I've seen too much bloodshed and violence associated with the name of religion." She laughed bleakly. "Of course, Brian prays for me so maybe I'll slip into heaven on a pass." She paused and looked at Alex. "Mr Hunt told me what happened to you. Bastard eejits they are, blowing up innocents like that!"

"You don't agree with their principles then?"

"Men like that haven't got any principles, if you ask me. Protestant or Catholic, anyone who kills innocent men, women and children is just a murderer plain and simple."

Alex nodded.

"Anyway, my Brian – said he's seen a lot of the victims of the bombing when he was working in the hospital. Said it was terrible what he saw but being the man he is, said he would pray for the terrorists as well as the victims. Something about the guilty needing more prayers than the innocent."

"You could be right."

"So, how long will you be staying with Mr Hunt?"

"Not much longer I'm afraid. I'll be moving back to my own place at the weekend."

"Oh and there's a shame! The big man will miss you that's for sure. I've never seen him look so happy."

"He'll probably be glad to get some privacy. Besides, he'll still see me at work every day."

"Not the same as living with a man though is it?"

"Oh we're not…that is we don't…"

Kath laughed. "Well, if you're not my girl, you should be! Because if you don't some floozy will come along and snap him up, mark my words if they don't."

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By the time DCI Warren and two of his officers had reported to Viv at the front desk, were then subsequently misdirected and got lost in the maze of corridors before finally finding the CID offices, Gene was waiting at the threshold of his own office. He stood poised, legs akimbo and hands on hips, declaring ownership of his territory in no uncertain terms. Gene's eyes glittered with anticipation – with a bit of luck, Ray wouldn't need to find him some heads to knock together.

An eerie silence descended as the three Branch men sauntered disrespectfully into CID; even Shaz's typewriter was silenced as all heads turned to watch the intruders as they walked towards Gene. DCI Warren stopped only when he was toe to toe with his opposite number.

"Hunt."

Gene sniffed and looked down at the smaller man. "Bunny," he replied, ignoring the snickering from his own men. "You took yer time"

Warren shifted uneasily under the unnerving gaze. "Your desk sergeant sent us the wrong way."

"Did he?" Gene said innocently. "Good man." He turned and entered his office, making himself comfortable behind his desk before he turned his attention to the unwanted visitors; Ray followed and stood protectively at Gene's back. Gene smirked slightly as he observed the three men looking at the solitary visitors chair.

"The Bunnymen can wait outside."

Ray sniggered and then muttered soto voce. "Dickheads."

"What was that Sergeant?" Warren said as he his face began to turn a strange shade of puce.

"Nothing sir," Ray said innocently. "Must 'ave been an echo."

"Yes, thank you Sergeant Carling," Gene intervened, "Now if you'll just look after our two fluffy friends outside. Oh and if they give you any bother just grab 'em by the ears."

Gene waited until Ray had escorted the two Branch men away, before turning his attention to Warren. "Now, to what do I owe the pleasure of this unexpected visit?"

Warren sat in the low visitors chair, grimacing with discomfort as he perched on the edge, looking up at Gene. "Hardly unexpected Hunt. I told Drake I'd be back with more questions."

"Did you now? Well, as you can see Detective Inspector Drake isn't here. She's still signed off sick."

"Apparently so."

"So you've 'ad a bit of a wasted visit then?"

"Not necessarily. Thing is," Warren leaned closer, "no-one seems to know where she is."

"Really?" Gene raised both eyebrows in mock-surprise.

"Really. We've tried at the address listed on her personnel file but all we found was some mad Italian waiter, waving his arms around and saying he couldn't speak English."

"Oh? Terrible state of affairs isn't it? Bloody foreigners coming over here and not even bothering to learn the Queen's English?" Gene silently blessed Luigi and made a mental note to buy him a large sambuca.

"Do you know where she is?"

Gene snorted contemptuously. "And if I did, do you really think I'd tell you?"

"Ever heard of obstruction Hunt?"

Gene took a deep breath as he clenched and un-clenched his fist. "Is she under investigation? You gonna arrest her?"

"No but…"

"Well in that case the only thing that's about to be obstructed is your windpipe when I close my fingers around it. The woman's a bloody heroine and you go around treating her like a criminal!"

"She was reported acting suspiciously," Warren shouted.

"She was reported trying to save people's lives," Gene yelled back.

"She's been involved in this sort of thing before."

"What?"

"Tim and Caroline Price. Their car was blown up in October last year I believe – and DI Drake was there. Coincidence? I think not."

"I was as there as well you dickhead."

"I know," Warren said with quiet menace.

"The Price's were blown up by…" Gene stopped himself just in time.

"By who?"

Gene stopped and collected his thoughts for a moment. He had promised Evan White that little Alex Price would never know her father had planned to kill them all and he had destroyed the evidence that could have given the game away. He knew there was nothing linking Alex to the Price's car bomb – but what did Warren know?

"Layton…we think."

"Think?" Warren smirked now. "Only think?"

"He had form. Layton disappeared off the face of the earth."

"Until he conveniently phoned DI Drake on the 20th July."

"Hardly convenient. He knew summat was going off and tried to kill Al…DI Drake by luring her to the park. It's a bloody miracle she wasn't killed."

"A miracle," echoed Warren.

Gene leapt to his feet. "Right I've 'ad just about enough of you casting doubts on the integrity of my officers." He marched around to the other side of the desk, just as Warren scrambled to his feet. "Trust me Warren, you don't wanna be messing with me today. Now, you and your mates 'ad better run off and keep your little bunny noses out of my department."

Gene opened the door and pointed the way with his arm.

"I've haven't finished yet Hunt – I'll be back."

Gene fumed silently as he watched Warren and his men leave. He let out a deep sigh before reaching into the filing cabinet and extracting a bottle, pouring himself a large measure. He took a large gulp before settling back into his chair. "Nothing a good dose of myxomatosis wouldn't fix."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Later that evening Gene and Alex sat on the sofa, picking at the remains of a Chinese takeaway without much enthusiasm.

"Not hungry?" Alex enquired.

"Eh?" He looked up from his plate as if surprised that she was there. "No…not really."

"Problems?"

"Nothing I can't handle. Finished?" he indicated her plate.

"Yes – I'll clear away."

"No, you stay there Bolly."

Alex watched as he took the plates and debris of their meal into the kitchen. There was obviously something playing on his mind but she had learned by now not to confront Gene head on but to let him work it through first – he would tell her when he was ready. Besides, she wasn't exactly a barrel of laughs herself this evening. Gene returned and then poured them both another glass of wine and turned on the tv, before settling back on the sofa next to her.

"Pot Black – not exactly riveting entertainment is it?" Gene said with disgust.

"Oh I don't know." Alex found that the soothing tones of 'Whispering' Ted Lowe quite took her back to her childhood. "It's quite…restful."

"Well, it's not the way I play snooker."

Alex laughed. "Quite. I've seen you handle a snooker cue Gene, and lets just say the outcome was…unique."

"Too right." Gene smiled and finally began to feel the tension ease away. He stretched his arm out and indicated she should move closer.

Alex thought about it for a millisecond before putting down her glass. "No, I've a better idea." She grabbed a plump cushion and placed it in her lap "Your turn to get comfortable."

"What? Lie down you mean?"

"Why not? There's no one here to see if that's what you're worried about," she said irritably.

It did look tempting. "I won't hurt your stomach?"

"No, it won't hurt."

"Be glad when you get those bloody stitches out," he grumbled as he turned and manoeuvred into position, flat on his back, his head resting in Alex's lap and glass of wine easily to hand on the table.

"There. Isn't that better?"

"Suppose," he grumbled, as he turned his attention to the snooker. His mind began to wander as only half-watched the game being played out. He couldn't remember the last time he had felt this comfortable with a woman, and certainly he had never rested his head in anyone's lap before! Maggie wasn't really the sort to show that much affection and none of his more recent encounters had progressed to this point. He closed his eyes for a moment, allowing the warmth of Alex's body and the potent red wine sooth his mind. He felt her fingers move distractedly through his hair, smoothing wayward locks into place and then ruffling them again. Yes, he could definitely get used to this.

"Warren came to the office today," he mumbled, his eyes still closed.

"Oh – did he want anything in particular?"

"The usual – to cause trouble. Said he was looking for you but I'm not so sure."

"What else could he want?" Alex said, trying not to let the tension seep into her voice.

"Came to rattle my cage – see if I knew more than I was lettin' on. He mentioned the Prices."

"I see." Her hand stilled and Gene took hold of it, running his thumb along the inside of her palm.

"I didn't say anything – about Tim Price. But if it comes down to it, if it's a choice between Tim Price and you, then I might 'ave to say something."

"He thinks I had something to do with it?"

"He's just fishing Alex," he soothed, "he's got nothing. Trust me."

They both lapsed into a comfortable silence, each pre-occupied with thoughts that the other could not possibly comprehend.

"James came to see me today."

"What?" Gene sat up quickly.

"James Carlyle…the photographer."

"Yes I know who he is – what was he doing 'ere?"

"Saying goodbye," she said with a wry smile.

"Going somewhere nice I 'ope. North Pole per'aps – heard it's nice this time of year."

"You really don't like him do you?"

"Can you blame me? He's running around taking snaps of people instead of trying to 'elp them, printing pictures of me in a crappy newspaper and…and…"

"And what?"

"Well, you seemed to be pretty keen on 'im at one point."

"I was. He was nice – handsome and intelligent and…"

"Yeah alright Bols, I get the picture." He turned away in disgust.

"…but he wasn't you Gene." She took a deep breath and leaned against his broad back, wrapping her arms around his waist. "I knew even before the bombing that there could be nothing serious with James – I knew that from the moment you kissed me."

He turned to face her. "Think you'll find it was you that kissed me, you hussy."

"Only because you need a push in the right direction."

"Yeah, well, I was being a gentleman. So, where's he going then?"

"The Lebanon – Beirut to be precise."

He nodded thoughtfully. "Well if he thinks Regent's Park's bad he'll get plenty action there."

"He'll be fine – he's used to it. Now, speaking of action…"

Gene groaned and raised his eyebrows. "You're insatiable woman."

Alex leaned into his embrace, slowly undoing a few more of his shirt buttons and nipping at the tender flesh of his throat. "And don't you love it."

"Careful Bols, or it won't just be Steve Davis who's stroking his balls into the top pocket!"

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Much later, Alex was caught in a nightmare of her own making, unable to break free from the depiction of familiar events now playing in her sub-conscious. A moan escaped her lips as she thrashed around the bed, tangling in the bedclothes and mumbling her fears.

"No…got to stop them…Layton…"

Once more she felt the force of explosion lifting her body and sending her flying across the park. This was the point where she usually woke, panicked and body covered with a sheen of sweat – but tonight it was different. The dream continued, hazy and confused, as she lay injured on the ground. She saw Gene coming towards her and then she knew it would be alright. Suddenly a shot rang out and Gene collapsed, falling forward towards her, his face contorted in agony.

"Noooooooooo!" she screamed.

In the next bedroom, Gene sat bolt upright in bed, heart racing, eyes blinking in the darkness. What the fuck? He was just on the point of lying down again, convinced he had been dreaming when he heard the sound.

"Noooo….Gene…."

He leapt out of bed, cursing as he stubbed his toe in the darkness, oaths issuing from his mouth in a torrent as he fell over his boots. Finally, he found the door and ran semi-naked along the hall, pausing only momentarily at the threshold of her room.

"Alex?"

He moved closer to the bed, fumbling for the switch of the bedside lamp as Alex tossed and turned, struggling to either wake or shake away her nightmare.

"Alex, it's me." He sat on the bed, not quite sure of what he should do next. The decision was taken from him when she gasped and sat bolt upright, her eyes wide and staring.

"Alex wake up, it's a dream." He took hold of her arms and gave a gentle shake - and then a not so gentle shake until her eyes finally cleared.

"Gene? Oh Gene..." she collapsed sobbing and confused into his arms.

"Shhh, there now…just a dream." He gathered her against his chest and great sobs wracked her body. "I'm here now." His fingers stroked her hair and he smiled slightly as the words he uttered triggered a memory of his own. His mother smiling sweetly and soothing him when he had sobbed as a child – except his nightmare hadn't only been in dreams.

"I…couldn't stop…it," she cried, "someone…shot you…"

"No one shot me Alex. Look – I'm here aren't I?"

She slowly raised her eyes, chest still heaving with aftermath of her crying. "Yes," she admitted. Her fingers reached out and stroked his cheek, as if to convince herself that he was really here.

"Well then, nothing to cry about is there?"

"No." But still she burrowed her face against his chest, reminding him of a wounded animal searching for warmth. "Don't go yet."

"I won't."

Slowly he released her, allowing her to fall back onto the pillows. They lay facing each other, eyes intent and roaming, fingers entwined.

"Go to sleep Alex or we'll both be in trouble."

She nodded and then yawned but still wouldn't let go of his hand.

"Gene?"

"What?"

"Can I just say, that those pyjama bottoms aren't really very sexy."

He laughed. "Probably just as well given the circumstances."

"Yes, but…"

"Go to sleep Alex."

……….to be continued