Ooh, hello again! :D *Runs to hug you all*. Thank you all for being so patient with me whilst I was getting through my crazy November. The good news is, I managed to finish NaNoWriMo! The bad news is, the novel that I wrote it absolute shit and if Gene ever got his hands on it, he would say a lot of rude words, call it 'poncey, nancy bollucks' and rip it to shreds. Oh well. :P Anyway, here I am with the next chapter; I missed you all! Ooh, also, an extra special hello to those of you I'm following/are following me on Tumblr! :D My latest obsession. So yeah, if any of you are on Tumblr, the link to my blog is on my profile page. :D

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Disclaimer – I don't own Ashes to Ashes. :(

Chapter 29 – The Final Countdown


The feeling of warm skin on hers and the gentle comfort of the soft mattress beneath her made slipping away from Gene, and out from under the duvet, the last thing Alex wanted to do that morning. The sun was already trying hard to shine round the edges of the curtains and through the small crack that had been left in them, filling the room with a soft, golden glow. Snuggling down under the duvet further, Alex repositioned herself on her side, so that Gene's arm slipped slightly from around her waist. She lay like that for a few moments, her head resting on her arm, hair tickling her wrist as she gazed at him. She was aware of the adoring, almost ridiculously soppy smile on her face, and knew that if Gene woke up to see her looking at him like that, he'd probably mutter something about being a 'sappy woman' and slip off into the kitchen on a search for bacon. But for now, he was asleep, dozing in a light stupor, and Alex watched the gentle rise and fall of his chest, feeling herself being absorbed into a trance of almost indescribable peace and bliss.

It was at moments like this that Alex could almost forget the devastation that surrounded them every day; the families torn apart, the bodies, the lies, the affairs, the scandal and all the other shit that came with the job. In a few minutes, they would have to get up, go across the road and prepare to bring Gregory Harris in for a full confession. Just the thought of the day ahead made Alex want to moan in protest, roll over, bury herself under the duvet and go back to sleep.

And just as she was considering doing exactly that, she felt Gene stir beside her and watched as his eyes slowly flickered open, looked blearily around for a moment before he turned his head and his gaze focused on her. A smile spread almost absently across his lips, and it suddenly struck Alex with a convicting sense of poignancy that she had never, ever seen Gene smile like that before. It was such an easy, happy and natural smile that he looked almost, very almost, carefree.

A few short moments passed before either of them spoke.

"Mornin'," Gene said, a little gruffly, and Alex could almost hear the ache for a morning cigarette flaring in the back of his throat.

Before he could inevitably grab his fags and slip away towards the window though, she shifted closer, resting her head against his bare shoulder as she smiled up at him, teasing her bottom lip, still slightly swollen from the previous night's activities, with her teeth.

"Morning, Mr Hunt," she murmured, bringing a hand up to trace her warm fingertips absently over the slightly cooler skin of his chest. "Do we really have to get out of bed?"

Turning so he could wrap an arm around her to pull her closer, Gene chuckled and used his spare hand to brush her mussed up curls away from her face. He brushed his thumb over her lips once and then sighed, closing his eyes again. "Unless yer want Harris t' be marched in 'ere and we interview 'im from the bed, then yes, Bols, we do."

Gene felt, rather than heard, her laugh, as her body shook pleasantly in his arms and he dropped a kiss to the top of her head. He wondered when he had last felt this comfortable with anyone. He also had the strange feeling that the answer might be never.

"C'mon," he murmured, shifting slightly so as to sit them both up. "Get yer knickers on, Bolly, before Ray bursts in 'ere looking fer us."

This time, Alex's laugh was audible as she leant over the side of the bed to retrieve her blouse from the day before. As she did so, Gene stilled for a moment, just admiring the arch of her back, the smooth curve of her pale skin as she leant over to the ground and then sat back up again, pulling the blouse with her.

She caught him staring. "What?"

The almost uncharacteristically contented smile lit Gene's face again as he watched the sun strike her just right, so that the sight before him almost took his breath away. What someone like her was doing with someone like him, he had no idea.

"Anyone ever tell you that yer gorgeous, Bols?"

She smiled and rolled her eyes, whacking his arm lightly as she got up out of bed. "You've gone soft, Mr Hunt, I swear it."

"Mouthy tart," he shot back at her, just before she disappeared into the bathroom. He sat for a second, shaking his head with a lion's smile on his face, and then got up himself and started collecting up his clothes from where they had been discarded on the floor.


"You took yer time," was the first thing Gene and Alex heard when they entered CID half an hour, numerous kisses and a few suggestive comments later.

Frowning thunderously, Gene rounded on Ray with his hands in his pockets, exerting the natural air of authority that seemed to permanently emanate from him. "Got something to say, Raymondo?"

Ray's gaze flickered between Gene, to Alex, and then back to Gene again and he shrugged. He shook his head and stubbed out his cigarette, before it burned his fingers. "No, Guv."

"Good. Right, now that's settled – " Gene turned to address the whole of CID and took his hands out from his pockets. He waited until Alex was seated at her desk, listening, before he continued.

"As yer know, we're pulling Gregory Harris in fer a full confession today, so I want all of yer on yer toes. I want paperwork done, I want leads closed up. I want t' have this case closed by beer o'clock and if it isn't, we can work until it is. Do you all understand me?"

A chorus of 'Yes, Guv's sounded throughout CID.

"Good." Gene turned and swaggered back to his office. He paused just before he reached it though, and half-turned back towards the rest of the room. "Oh, and me an' Bolly are taking some time off once all this shit is dealt with. Raymondo, God 'elp us, I'll be leaving you in charge. Any questions?"

A few eyes widened, and a few suggestive glances were exchanged, but the eventual round of 'No, Guv's completed its full circuit of the room. With that, Gene ducked into his office, retrieved his search warrant, just in case, and exited again. He stood before them all, an impressive figure with determination written on his face and in the way he gripped the baseball bat tight in his right hand, the end of it resting in his left. The final countdown was upon them.

"Come on, ladies. Let's fire up the Quattro."


With shuddering, shaking fingers, Gregory Harris traced over the broken glass screen of the photo-frame he had thrown to the floor in his rage just a few minutes before. Blood from a cut in his hand that he couldn't really remember getting ran into the cracks in the glass, and the tiny red rivers almost obscured the image of his wife's face.

She smiled up at him out of the photograph, dark hair flowing about her shoulders, smile a mile wide. Here, she looked more alive than ever. He remembered how she looked as the cancer took its hold, as it took her away from him, left him alone... But there was something accusing in her eyes now, or perhaps it was his imagination.

Letting out a shocked, shattered breath, he dropped the frame to the floor again where it fell with a clatter, and he dropped to his knees himself. An almost inhuman wail of despair came from somewhere within him and he clutched his head in his hands, wishing all the noise would just stop. It was silent, deathly silent. No Thea, no Samantha... Samantha was long gone... Thea with the police, probably, Delilah...

It was so silent. Yet so deafening too. Voices ran vicious circles around his head, screaming at him, shouting and calling and yelling and crying. He saw his daughter's face flash before his eyes – her innocent expression, the pleading look on her face... His crying grew louder and louder, his breathing more desperate and uneven as he crashed to lie on the floor, curled up in a ball, unable to evade the obvious anymore but trying in his madness anyway.

Guilt torched the blood in his veins and burnt it to ice; remorse seeped from every pore of his skin, horror shone like blackness from his eyes. It was too much, the torture too intense, the voices too loud. He clutched the knife in his hand, squeezing too tight, spilling more blood... His own this time.

This wasn't how it was supposed to end. He just wanted things to be right. Just wanted Thea, for Delilah to be with Samuel, for everything to be good and right and how it was meant to be. It was never supposed to go this far...

And as Gregory howled for the past to rewrite itself, for the blackened state of his own heart, he ignored the pounding on the door, the shouts of police officers, the threats to break the door in. He just clutched the knife tighter, and drove it in deeper.


Well, you know full well it isn't very me to not balance out some Galex without a little horror... :P I hope this chapter was okay, and please review! :D Also, don't forget to check out my Tumblr! :D I've missed you all so much, and thank you for reading! :D

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