False Alarm

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Little fluffy chapter. I do like my fluff.

Ray's Visit

The match between Ray's fingers died. He dragged deeply on his cigarette, willing the scorched tip to ignite, hacking half his guts up when it did. Leaving Shaz and Chris to their own devices in Luigi's he leaned back on the wall by the doors to the bogs and contemplated the curious events of the evening.

There must be something in the air, a full moon - or something - because his Fenchurch East's finest weren't half betting on some peculiar things for a chance of getting a bit of how's your father. First there was Drake getting herself handcuffed to the bed and then there was Chris, actually cradling Shaz's feet with his bare hands and making out he was enjoying it. All it had taken was for Shaz to make some dumb-arse comment about how much her feet hurt and the stupid twonk was clamping his fingers around her clammy feet like they were the most precious gift she could give. Poor sap wasn't even giving her one.

You wouldn't catch a real man like Ray or the Guv, with his hands wrapped round some woman's sweaty feet, even if she was wearing stockings. Not even if she did look like Drake with pins up to her armpits… well okay….even the mighty Carling might make an exception for Drake - but only if she promised to do his after. Fair's fair - wasn't it?

He imagined Alex dressed in the little red dress they'd first met her in, chest heaving, legs stretching up to heaven, open-mouthed as he ran his finger over her instep -

Who was he trying to kid? She wouldn't look twice at the likes of him. God knows where she'd picked up (what he imagined to be) the posh-arsed twat who'd got carried away with her bondage earlier, but wherever it was you could bet your life it wasn't in the local boozer. She was class, and she knew it. The chances of her letting him loose on her feet were as unlikely as a priest actually going down for intimately befriending choir boys, and so, he mused, the chances of her massaging the knots out of his - Ray's - tootsies, were absolutely non-existent.

To tell the truth if anyone had asked him a couple of days ago he would have sworn Drake only had eyes for the Guv. He'd spotted her face after Elaine and the Guv had traded saliva when they were celebrating tying up the case in Luigi's: she couldn't have looked more sour with a lemon stuck in her gob and a red hot chillie up her arse. Still it was her own fault. If she weren't such a picky trouble-maker he was pretty sure her and the Guv would have got it on ages ago.

But if she was fed up of being on her own, ready to take risks with god knows who, she wasn't the only one. He was bloody tired up of slipping off home with only a copy of Raz and a handshandy to look forward to, and he was even more fed up of watching other people getting loved up.

However being fed up of playing gooseberry was why he was hanging around at the bottom of the stairs near the bogs. Which was why he was the one to hear the rhythmic slamming of Alex's bathroom door and the scream….

Nothing like a woman's scream to galvanise the legs. Throwing his cigarette away he charged up the stairs, three at a time.

The door was locked. He hammered on it, remembering he'd charged it earlier, probably broke the lock then. Could only have been a temporary repair. He readied himself to kick it in again.

'Drake, Alex - you okay in there?'

'Shit. Ray.' Gene hissed. 'I'll deal with him. Go to the bedroom. Wait for me there.' He kissed the bridge of her nose and yanked open the bathroom door. Alex suppressed a giggle at the sight of Gene's naked long-limbed form streaking across the room towards his coat.

'Alex, you okay.' Ray repeated, raising his voice and hammering loudly again. Holding his coat Gene pressed his weight against the door and pushed his arms through the sleeves.

'Hold your horses.' Gene shouted. Collecting himself together he did up the buttons and smoothed back his damp hair, waiting as a damp Alex, wrapped in a towel, slipped across to the bedroom. With her safe Gene opened the door a crack and peered out at Ray - foot raised ready to strike.

'Didn't know you were here Guv. Heard a woman scream and banging.' Ray stepped back, wondering why Gene didn't just let him in.

'Nightmare.' Gene whispered. 'She was crying her eyes out. Bloody begging me not to leave her on her own. Just got her off to sleep and the next minute she was screaming the place down. Have you caught him?'

Ray swallowed. 'No. Bastard must have legged it faster than bloody Ben Johnson.'

'Bugger. I'll have to stay then. Reckons she won't feel safe until he's behind bars.'

'Has she said anything - given a description, said where they met or anything?'

'Not much. Too upset. You'd best get on home. See what we can find tomorrow.' And with that Gene shut the door.

Ray wasn't the sharpest blade on the block but even he could tell the Guv wanted to get rid of him. He walked slowly down the stairs thankful not to have been given a bollocking for letting the bloke get away, but also curious as to why the Guv's hair appeared to be wet, and why he'd not let him into the flat, and if the Guv had been with Alex all night - where was he when Shaz had gone to check on Alex?

Something was definitely going on there.

Gene unbuttoned the top buttons of his coat and slumped onto the sofa. Ray's appearance at the door had unsettled him, reminded him of a world outside Alex's flat. A world they were going to have to face. He fished around in his pocket for his cigarettes. After the events of earlier he needed time to work things out in his head.

He was hunched over the coffee table and taking his first drag when Alex slunk in beside him still wearing her towel.

'All okay?' She said, hooking an arm through his and leaning her head against his shoulder.

'Yeah. Said you were having a nightmare.' He said, briefly turning to look at her.

'Thanks.' She stroked his arm, watching as he blew smoke out of the corner of his mouth. He shuffled in his seat and stretched an arm around her, pulling her with him as he settled back in the seat.

She was feeling deliciously languid, but she could tell he was thinking. Moving the pieces of tonight around in his head.

'What now then Bols?' He asked, idly stroking her hair. She looked up, alert to the tightness in his voice. 'Things were said... in the bathroom.' He lifted his arm away and crouched over the table again, tapping his ash into the ashtray there. 'Did you mean it?' She swallowed, suddenly alarmed.

'Did you?' She psychologist in her had to turn the tables, send it right back to him, fending off the flicker of doubt whirring through her like acid. Did he mean what he'd said, or was it just a way to get into her knickers? Had she scared him off with her declaration of love? How were they going to work together now she'd laid herself bare - physically and emotionally - for him?

She swung her feet onto the floor. He ground his cigarette out in the ashtray.

'Yes.' He admitted. Quiet, not looking at her. 'But what does it mean? What does it mean for us?'

'You have my back and I have yours?' Her answer was flippant. A way to release tension.

'That's a given Bols. We're colleagues.'

'We shag like rabbits?' Her answer was flippant but it worked.

'I bloody hope so.' She was treated to a rare Gene smile. She continued, much

encouraged.

'We tell each other our most secret sexual fantasies?' He smiled again, obviously liking her train of thought, but he was not to be deterred.

'What about work?'

'Your desk?' She asked hopefully.

'What about my desk?' Alex leaned in and whispered her plans for his desk into his ear.

'Think you've tapped into my secret sexual fantasy right there. Bols.' He pulled her close again. Bending his head to smell her hair. God how he wanted to stay with her nestling against him for ever. 'Serious though Bols. I can't protect you from everything that's going to happen, everything that's going to be said.'

'I know. I'm going to have to deal with that - the jibs, the jokes. Look at the first police officer to end up cuffed to the bed. Can't be much of a police officer can she?'

'Actually Bols,' he said leaning back, 'you're not the first officer to be found in that particular situation - hand-cuffed to the bed. Happened to Tyler. He was stark-bollock naked when we found him. Must be something with my DI's.'

'So Ray will be next?' She giggled.

'If tonight's taught me anything Bols, it's that anything's possible.'

'So what happened with Tyler?'

'Honey trap. Drugged him, cuffed him, bounced on his dingaling and took photos. Her boss, Warren, nasty piece of work, he wanted control, Tyler wouldn't play ball. Girl changed her mind, destroyed the photos. Ended up with her throat slit for her trouble. We got the bastard. Warren got life.'

'Sad story.' She paused. 'I was at least wearing clothes. And there's no photographic evidence.'

'Shame though…' She thumped his arm in mock outrage. 'Could have done with something to prove I weren't dreaming.' She stretched a leg over his, shifting until she was straddling his lap, unbuttoning the rest of his coat as he pulled off her towel, gasping appreciatively at the sight of her naked breasts. She opened the coat and leaned in to him. Skin touching skin. Delicious.

'This feel real enough?' He pulled the coat around her back, engulfing them both in the thick safe black wool. Her arms encircled him. He could feel her damp centre on his thighs. Her sweet breasts soft against his chest. Her taut stomach against his slightly softer one. Her teeth teased his earlobe. Their temples touched, sharing their thoughts. It felt real, but it was still a dream. A dream come true.

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