Chapter Thirty Six

Alex could tell something was wrong the second she saw Robin and Simon walk grimly back into the club. Their spark of joy had been replaced by scowls of misery and anger. Instinctively she got to her feet.

"Call me paranoid," she began, "but I'm guessing something happened out there. Am I right?"

Simon and Robin exchanged a glance. Neither wanted to be the one to break the news.

"Yeah," Simon said quietly, "something happened. Something Keats-shaped happened."

"Bloody Keats," Gene got to his feet with a scowl, "we were busy waiting for 'im to send us a message through his specially selected dedications, not hanging about in the street waiting for people to go on 'lovely walks'."

"I never said we were going for a 'lovely' walk!" cried Simon.

"What happened?" Alex asked nervously, "did he have more tapes for you?"

Robin shook his head slowly.

"I don't think he'll be bothering me any more. Apparently he already got what he wanted."

"What do you mean?"

"The bomb in Nailer's computer," Robin began anxiously, "he knew about it. Remembered the news reports from ninety-five the first time around and used them to his advantage."

"He tipped us off so we could take that computer for evidence," Simon added, "he wanted to destroy Fenchurch East. Wanted to literally bring CID down."

"I think he was hoping the evidence would be kept in the office," Robin said quietly, "I think that's what he wanted most of all, but he caused enough damage to shut us down anyway."

"He's certainly done that," Gene said angrily, "I can't believe that bastard set us up!" he stood up and tried to kick the table but succeeded only in pulling his stitches and yelping.

"We weren't to know," Alex pointed out patiently, "we weren't to have any idea. He's never been linked with explosives before."

"Yes, well," Gene turned red with anger, "we've still been played for a barrel of mugs and we fed right into his plan."

"What's done is done," Alex pointed out quickly, "there's no point getting angry with ourselves about this. He's the one who set us up - let's concentrate on finding him and making him pay."

"What does he want to shut you down for?" Robin asked, "I've never… never understood. What's he going to get for taking you down?"

Gene straightened his jaw.

"It's me he wants," he said, "he thinks if he gets me out the way he can step into my shoes. Well, I'm telling you this much," he took a large gulp of his drink, "stab-hole or no stab-hole, my boots are far too big for a mollusc like Keats to try to fill."

Alex began to feel a little woozy. Whether it was the wine or the thought of Keats playing such an evil game she wasn't sure but something wasn't right. She stumbled back into her seat and held her head.

"We've got to be on alert," she said quietly, "moreso than ever. He's playing a stupid and dangerous game but sooner or later he'll come a step to close and we'll have him."

"We can't get him for this," Gene snapped angrily, "we've got no proof he set us up. There's no evidence he knew about the bomb. How can there be? He saw it on a newsflash after it happened before it happened in another time where it happened differently!"

"Stop saying 'happened'!" cried Simon, "you're making my brain rot trying to even think about it!"

"We can't arrest 'im on a paradox," Gene said crossly.

"We will get him one way or another," Alex said firmly, "but he's slippery. We've lost this one, Gene. We'll win the next one." She looked at him seriously, "next time he'll slip up and we will be waiting."

Gene stared at her. He wanted to argue, to continue ranting and raving, the anger at Keats successfully pulling off something so audacious eating away at him inside, but he also knew she was right. There was no going back and changing it, nor could he prove anything that would lead to Keats' arrest. Watching the news and remembering what he'd seen wasn't a crime. Tipping them off about the location of a wanted man wasn't a crime. There was nothing he could do to make this one stick.

"The next time around," he said crossly, "whatever he chooses to attack us with… whatever he tries… we'll be waiting with an open pair of handcuffs." He paused. "Right?"

Three heads nodded.

"Yes, Guv," they said quietly.

"Good," said Gene. He waved his glass in the direction of Simon and Robin. "Now bugger off and enjoy your evening. I'm not having that greasy tosspot spoiling yer big day." He watched as they hesitated. "Go on - get lost! Go and tell that DJ to put on Charmless Man in his honour."

Simon glanced around and his expression fell in horror like a small child being served sprouts for lunch.

"Oh no, not him again," he sighed, "he's the worst DJ ever."

"Gene's right," Alex began, "don't let this ruin your evening."

Simon and Robin looked at one another. Keats' revelation had knocked them for six but they knew that the problem would still be there tomorrow.

"After all you planned earlier," Robin said quietly, "I don't want Keats to get between us tonight."

Simon breathed deeply. He hated that the evil man had done his best to intrude on their special night. As much as it burned him to think of Keats playing them all for fools he wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of letting him ruin their night.

"Right," he said, "Keats has ruined too many nights for me as it is." A piece of music began and Simon held out his hand. "Shall we dance?"

Robin looked around nervously. No one else was dancing.

"I feel like a prat," he admitted.

"So?" Simon pulled him towards the stage, "We're gonna wake up tomorrow and no one's going to know about it but us!"

"What about when Alex wakes up?" Robin tried feebly but Simon wasn't taking no for an answer and Robin found himself dancing conspicuously to Alright.

Malcolm wandered over looking a little lost.

"Guv; Missus Guv," he addressed them, "have you seen Susannah?"

Alex frowned.

"Missus Guv?" she repeated.

"Madam Guv?" Malcolm tried.

"You might as well call her Guv With The Almighty Bazongas and really make her feel comfortable!" snapped Gene, "no, we haven't seen her. When did you lose her?"

"She went to get a paper and never came back," Malcolm said anxiously.

"She's probably signing copies for the first aid groupies," said Gene.

"Maybe she went home?" Alex suggested, "it's been a long day."

Malcolm hesitated. He was as sure as he could be that Susannah would never wander home without him but he didn't want to argue about it.

"Maybe," he said quietly, "I think I'll go and look for her."

Alex sighed as she watched him leave.

"How did Susannah get so much right today when she got my arm so very wrong?" she wondered.

~xXx~

"He-e-e-e-ey," the smoooooooooth DJ began as Supergrass stopped playing, "we're playing all your requests tonight, and we've got one for the happy couple coming up next. We've got word that a couple of loved-up clubbers got engaged right here tonight! So without further ado, here's last year's Christmas number one, Stay Another Day, for Robin and Simone!"

"That's Simon!" Simon complained. He glanced around. "Is this one real or another wind-up?"

"Romantic wind-up if it is," said Robin, "just dance will you? I'm in the mood for it now."

Simon moved in closer until he and Robin began to sway slowly in time with the music, their arms embracing one another as closely as they could. Right there and then they could have been a million miles away. 1995 was forgotten. Their accident was forgotten. The explosion, Robin's father, Nick Nailer - all forgotten. Nothing else existed; just two people, very much in love, facing all the obstacles together.

Just as Simon was truly relaxing into the motion of their dance, Robin pulled away slightly.

"Meet me in the toilets in two minutes," he whispered.

Simon looked at him his mouth open in surprise.

"What?"

"Toilets; two minutes," Robin repeated, a glint of something naughty in his eye.

Simon watched as Robin left him, heading to their intended destination, and a tint smirk began to appear on his face.

"It's like Queer as Folk, all over again!" he cried.

Robin turned back with a laugh.

"Not out for another four years," he said.

~xXx~

Alex clutched her head with her hand and tried to hide it from Gene. She gave a fake smile and pretended everything was hunky-dory, feigning a tilted head of interest rather than a depressingly severe headache. She did her best to nod in all the right places as Gene ran through his fascinating repertoire of shoe-related marriage jokes to test them out before unleashing them on Simon but the constant throbbing was getting to her.

Out of the blue, a flash of white smothered her vision and the brilliance of the light took away her ability to speak. It came from nowhere like someone shining a light into her eyes, peeling back her eyelids to expose the terrified pupils below. The brighter the light grew, the more intense the pressure inside her head.

She couldn't move, couldn't speak, had no sense of who or where she was. She desperately wished that she could move, to cry out, to scream but her body was paralysed.

"…significantly improved responses -" a voice blasted into the head, then stopped as soon as it began.

Like the slamming of a door or the closing of an eyelid the brilliant white light ceased and Alex regained her own sight. Once more in control she could move and speak, although all that came out was a tiny squeak to begin with. The pain in her head slowly faded until there as nothing but a pinprick of discomfort. She blinked and rubbed her eyes as though waking up in the morning and tried to get her bearings.

"I know they weren't my best work but my jokes surely weren't bad enough that you had to fall asleep on me!" Gene commented, slightly offended.

Alex's mouth felt very dry.

"I wasn't asleep," she whispered, "something happened, something…" She recalled her nightmare from the previous night. A vision of her own face laying in her hospital bed came back to her with a vengeance and she moved her head sharply to send it away. "I think I'm getting a migraine, that's all."

Gene swallowed nervously as he stared at her. Just when he'd thought she was getting better, she seemed to have taken a downward turn. His worries about her began to swell inside him again and he turned to his drink to try to forget them. Memories of his own nightmare haunted him and he wished he could push it out of his mind, but no matter ho hard he tried it wouldn't go away, stuck there like an elephant in a lift.

Without thinking, he leaned toward her and almost involuntarily placed a small kiss on the top of her head. The gesture took Alex by surprise. Whatever they did behind closed doors, in public he was the same old Gene, never one for displaying a lot of affection.

"What was that for?" she asked, a smile flickering onto her lips.

Gene cleared his throat and glanced around to make sure no one had seen him.

"Shoebury hasn't got the monopoly on romance, you know," he mumbled, then shuffled off to the bar.

~xXx~

A tearing of clothes, a raging of lust, a pumping of blood, an explosion of need. For Simon and Robin it felt like their first time all over again. Something had changed between then that day. They'd grown closer, stronger, bonded more solidly than ever before. Like over-sexed teenagers they grasped the thrill of their toilet rendezvous with both hands and made full use of every inch of the cubicle. So unlike them… so very unlike them… respectable police officers committing an act of indecency in a public place and not giving a damn about it.

"This is our night," was the only thing Simon had said during the whole time they were acting on their wild desires.

As their passion came to an end the two men faced each other, seeing the same spark reflected in each other's eyes. They felt alive, on fire, so full of life and energy. Simon gently stroked the side of Robin's face as he gazed into his eyes and wrapped him up in the warmth of a smile.

"You're amazing," he whispered.

Robin stared back at him. He'd never experienced so many emotions all in one day. The anguish of the afternoon slipped away as he found himself swept up in the elation of the night.

"I wish this night never had to end," he breathed.

"Then maybe it doesn't," Simon said so quietly that barely a sound left his lips. Slowly, he closed his eyes and leaned forward, his lips aching to feel Robin's against them. Further he leaned, further still, until he found himself kissing the door of the cubicle.

His eyes flew open in surprise and his attention was called to a jingling of metal on the floor. He glanced down to see Robin's ring bouncing and spinning on the ground until it finally came to a halt by his feet. Where his lover had stood only moments earlier he now found only thin air, Robin's final breath dissipating before him.

"Robin?" his voice was quiet and broken, like a lost child looking for someone familiar in the supermarket. "Rob?"

No reply.

Nothing.

Simon closed his eyes and leaned back against the door. The shock washed over him first. How could someone vanish into thin air? He had to be there somewhere… had to be waiting just outside.

Hurriedly he fumbled his shirt buttons back together and pulled up his trousers, his fingers shaking as he tried to fasten the buckle. He slowly opened the door and peered outside.

"Robin?" he asked. But all he saw were a couple of slightly pissed gentlemen having a competition to see who could pee the highest up a wall.

He stepped back into the cubicle and closed the door behind him. Slowly he bent down and scooped up the ring. It shone and glistened before him, the light catching its facets like starlight. All at once the realisation stuck Simon, beginning in his chest where his heart thumped harder than ever before, then stretching out to every limb and every digit, his whole body tingling with joy and elation.

"He made it," he cried, thumping his fists against the side of the cubicle, then kicking the opposite side, rebounding off it with a leap of ecstasy, "he bloody made it back!" He gave the door one last thump, his ears ringing and mind racing. Finally slowing down as his initial physical response to his emotions came under control, he came to a halt and stared at the ring. A smile spread across his face. "You made it home Robin," he whispered, "I knew you would."

With a deep breath he slipped the ring onto his own finger and stared at it intensely. He could see his reflection in parts of the shiny metal and caught his own smile.

"Alright," he whispered, "you're safe… now it's my turn."

With one last scan of the cubicle with his eyes, just in case, Simon opened the door and stepped back out into the world. His heart burned brightly, like he had a secret that no one else knew. There was a spring in every step he took as he left the toilets and walked back to the club.

He caught sight of Alex sitting alone, her head slightly bowed and her face a little pale. At the bar stood Gene, getting in a measure of something highly potent and trying not to draw attention to the fact that he had one leg slightly above ground level.

He slipped quietly into Gene's vacant space and looked at Alex.

"Robin's gone," he whispered.

Alex looked up, a little confused.

"Too tired to stay?" she asked.

Simon leaned forward.

"He's gone, Alex," he whispered, "home."

Alex frowned, not sure she was following him.

"Home…?"

"Home," a giddy smile spread across his lips, "he made it, Alex. He was strong enough. He woke up and he disappeared. Just like that! Vanished."

A mixture of emotions flashed across Alex's face all at once, coupled with a flash of light and a voice inside her head but she pushed those away.

"That's wonderful," she said eventually. She felt so pleased for Robin, to know that he was safe and strong. She genuinely felt elated to see another one make it back, it always felt like a little victory when someone pushed back through to the other side. But this time it was different. Bittersweet. Like a long train journey to visit a dear friend or loved one, she thought - it was always harder for the one left standing on the platform.

Simon held out his hand.

"When he disappeared," he began quietly, "the ring stayed. I'm going to wear it. Keep it safe until I get to join him, the I can give him the real one." He leaned back and felt another wave of elation spread through his body. "Now it's my turn," he said firmly, "my turn to wake up." He closed his eyes and relished the thought of getting back home. "Two thousand and ten," he whispered, "Bring it on!"