"Don't hold back, Drake."

"I'm not."

"You are, you can't hurt me you know."

They'd been meeting at the boxing club on Mark Lane for two straight weeks solid now. 6.00 a.m. even on a Sunday. It was nice having the place to themselves for an hour, to just clear their heads, think, before facing another hard day at work. Ray had taught her the basic 1-2: jab-right cross. She was getting stronger, building muscle, stamina, regaining some of the weight she could scarcely afford to lose. Luigi's was a thing of the past: somehow it didn't feel right at all without the guv, too many painful memories there all round.

"Okay, let's take a break." Ray said. They took off their pads and gloves, leaning against the wobbly ropes of the ring.

"What's next?" she asked, taking a big swig from the bottle of water she'd brought with her. Ray, as usual, had nothing so she handed it to him, and he also took a long gulp. He liked this, liked being with her every morning, just the two of them. She still made him nervous as hell: she was skittish, yes, shrill but… she trusted him. She hadn't laughed when he'd made DI, she'd been so supportive and made him feel he was capable, he could do it. He was starting to believe with her by his side, maybe he could. Maybe they could make this work, him and her at Fenchurch.

"What?" He'd got momentarily lost in thought. "Oh… jab-jab-cross. Trick your opponent, he'll be expecting a simple 1-2 so the second jab'll surprise him." He stood and pulled her by her hand to her feet too. They were the same height when she was in trainers, she was the perfect sparring partner for him really. "Look." Ray put his hands up in fists to demonstrate. "Your opponent's going to expect you to right cross, throw a counter. So instead of your basic 1-2, you'll throw endless jabs, testing the water like, he'll slip up and bang! You'll throw a right cross in there." As he was talking, he'd been marking through the moves, shadow boxing. "Try it." He threw her the gloves and strapped the pads back onto his sweating hands. He tried to tell himself it was purely from physical exertion but lately, since she'd woken up, maybe even before, there was something about Alex Drake that made his heart beat just that little bit faster. Her first attempt was too slow, tentative. He nodded. "Okay, again." A bit faster, a bit better. "Lighten your left," he told her. "Don't put all your power into every punch." Again: jab-jab-cross. "Save some of your power for your right." Three more tries, silence from him. "Jab: light and accurate." He started to test her now, moving, dodging and bit, starting to move his pads and therefore spin his new DCI in a slow circle.

Alex checked her watch. "6:55. We'd better get home, shower. Big case, severed hand."

"Sounds tasty." Ray wiped his forehead with a towel. "Same time tomorrow, Alex?" He always asked, slightly afraid she'd say no. But her answer was always the same.

"Same time tomorrow."

-

That fucking drill! It was incessant! It felt like a swarm of bees in Ray's brain. Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. Then it would stop, four seconds of blessed silence and it was start again, a jackhammer right in the centre of his skull. He knew they had to crack this case and soon. Girls were dying, he didn't want to let Alex down. Jim Keats had been sniffing around again, asking questions no-one had the faintest idea how to answer about Gene's whereabouts. As the days, weeks, went by, Ray was starting to suspect he really wasn't coming back and an even sneakier suspicion this might have something to do with Sam. Would they be pulling the Quattro out of the river like they had Sam's car just three short years ago? Would he be the one comforting Alex as she buckled to her knees, screaming on the banks of the estuary? The memories were still too raw, too dreadful- lighting couldn't strike twice, could it?

Throwing a look towards Chris, who was distracted by his Walkman, he made his way towards Alex's office and gave a tentative knock. Her head snapped up; the mask was back on. She had to act tough when they were at work. No-one knew about their boxing dates, and both wanted to keep it that way, they both has personas to maintain.

"Ma'am?" He just put his head over the threshold. "Any chance I could work in here for a bit? Got a splitting headache, sounds like a load of fucking wasps in the ceiling."

Her mouth twitched, half a smile. "Okay, shut the blinds."

He did as he was asked. Her face was the picture of concentration, mulling over the photos spread out on the desk in front of her.

"Anything?" he asked, pulling up a chair opposite her and dumping his own file on the table in front of him.

"Nothing. I'm going round in circles."

"Can I take a look? Fresh pair of eyes and all that."

"Okay, yes. Thanks Ray."

He nervously circled the desk and looked over her shoulder. The guv wouldn't have thought anything of being this close to Drake. But she made him feel anxious, unsure. He didn't want to cross the line with her, overstep the mark. It wasn't just that she was his superior officer, CID was in a fragile place as it was, fragile and rudderless without their charismatic leader. It would absolutely implode if the weak almost-friendship between the new DCI and DI fell apart too.

He looked over the photos, his face a picture of concentration. Six girls, they all looked similar: slight, dark hair- like Alex herself, or Shaz. There had to be something: what was the connection, what was the pattern? Then he saw it: tiny. Almost imperceptible. A tiny white mark that could be a smudge on the photo it was so small, a distorted pixel except- there it was. On every one of the girls' pictures. "Look, Alex," he said, pointing to the little marks on two of the photos. "What's that?" He picked up the photo of Fiona Day, holding it to his eyes and squinting. "There's something there, in this one too." He handed it to her. "It looks like… a banana?"

"I don't think it's a banana." Alex, organised as ever, pulled a magnifying glass out of her desk drawer for a closer look. A few weeks ago, Ray, Chris and Shaz had moved all of Gene's possessions from the office into storage, it was just easier that way. Now this office was all Alex, distinctly Alex. "No, look, it's a crescent moon."

Ray took the magnifying glass from her and squinted through the glass. "You're right- crescent moon, what does that mean?"

"It's a lunar phase, the first quarter, the sickle moon." Alex sat back in her chair, deep in thought, trying to dredge her memory for anything else she knew about the symbol. "It's a symbol, symbol for the Roman goddess, Diana, it means virgin, I think, the virgin Mary."

"They're all virgins?" Ray quipped.

"Not necessarily. Could be a serial killer trying to re-brand, purify."

"Sicko." Ray might have had his share of women, but Alex had him figured out: a lot of it was bravado. He'd never hurt a woman, love them and leave them yes, but the thought of intentionally hurting someone revolted him. He sat on his chair again and flicked through the file. "They must have something in common…" he eyes skimmed and scanned over the basic information about each victim and one thing immediately jumped out. "Drake look… this one- divorcee. This one too, this one too. This psycho's preying on girls that are-"

"Vulnerable?" She interrupted. Alex sighed. "After you get divorced you think no-one will ever love you again." Ray could tell this was painful for her. She hadn't talked to him much about her ex-husband or daughter, but it was plain it was distressing for her to talk about. Without another word she rose, mask on again and stalked out back into the main office. There she was, playing the tough DCI, making the connections. Finally, they settled on the Crescent Moon Dating Agency. Alex had decided she was going undercover, and Ray knew better than to argue with her no matter how nervous it made him. Bravado. That was the name of the game.

_

He offered to take the pool car and drive her to the agency. Though she tried to protest that she was fine, happy to take the bus he'd privately taken her aside.

"Look, Alex, sometimes you get a bit wibbly…"

"Wibbly?"

"Yeah, faint like. I'd rather drive you, okay?"

She'd relented and he was grateful. Ray knew he couldn't go in: a few years ago, he'd used the agency as a way of chasing some tail when his regular haunts had dried up a bit. That Elaine woman was bound to recognise him. The drive went by in almost companiable silence, Alex had the file in her lap, still looking for connections, clues they'd missed. When she'd gone inside, they agreed Ray would look it over. They didn't want to waste a second, time was of the essence and people's lives were at stake. "Look, Alex-"he began, his mouth suddenly very dry. It felt like he'd swallowed sand, but he trusted Alex enough not to blab what he was about to tell her next. She might laugh a bit, but she wasn't going to tell Chris and Shaz. "I want to, but I can't come in with you."

"I don't want you to." She shot him a quizzical look. "And why not?"

"You see, I've got form. With this agency. I used it to pick up birds 'bout 18 months ago." God she was doing that think again. The way she raised a single eyebrow, like Roger Moore only infinitely sexier. "Don't tell anyone, okay?"

She smirked. "Okay, our secret."

"What, no smart comment? Little comeback."

"Nope. Who hasn't casually tried E-Harmony?"

"E-what?"

"Never mind." She pulled her earrings out, removed the clip from her hair and mussed it. "How do I look?"

Ray thought she looked gorgeous. WHOA, WHOA, WHOA, WHOA, WHOA. Wait- where had that thought come from? His brain suddenly felt like it was on fire. Alex Drake was his boss, extremely annoying, a complete pain, shrill, loud, emotional, unstable- maybe his friend, just maybe. Nothing else. Absolutely nothing else, so gorgeous shouldn't be entering his brain space when he thought about her. But it had and now he couldn't erase it. The tiny bump on the right of her nose, the four tiny freckles there. NO. "Yep, totally desperate," he managed to retaliate.

"Good."

_

To take his mind of his frankly indecent and extremely disturbing thoughts, Ray was looking forward to some speed dating. It sounded like a great way to pick up birds: maybe pick up one of those twins or both or get off with one of Shaz's friends. Anything to distract him. It sounded easy. He, Alex and Chris would be pretending to be participants but also to work the room. The women would stay seated the men would circulate. They were undercover, he would have to play the part if they wanted to nail this sicko.

The truth was he was distracted: the twins weren't holding his attention in the way they should. What was wrong with him? Two 21-year-old girls were practically offering it on a plate and all he could think about was- NO. This had to stop. He had. To. Stop. What he needed was to get laid, well and truly shagged rotten. He'd never paid for a tom before but maybe he could, just this once to get her off his brain.

Then it occurred to him, as Luigi rang the bell for the third rotation, that his next stop was Alex's table. Shit shit shit shit shit. This was not helping, definitely not helping. He had to put on an act, yes- think Ray. Maybe they could talk boxing? That definitely wasn't going to help either. Fuck, what the hell was wrong with him? This was Alex Drake. Five months ago, he'd literally hated her guts, when had that changed? And then as if things couldn't get any worse, Jim Keats had appeared and was watching them like a hawk. What did he think he was going to find- Gene hiding behind one of Luigi's pillars? Time and time again he'd told him he didn't have a pissin' clue where Gene was and time and time again, Jim wouldn't accept 'no' for an answer. He was convinced there was some great conspiracy, the only member of CID he didn't seem inherently suspicious of was Alex herself. At least not yet. What next? Was Jimbo going to say Alex had been shot on purpose and put herself into a coma to hide Gene?

The bell rang again, a sharp ding snapped Ray back to reality. His heart sped, a runaway horse. On slightly shaky legs, he made his way over to Alex, all too aware of Jim's eyes on the back of his neck. Maybe a joke, a joke would help. Suave. Patrick Swayze-like. "Hi, my name's Ray and I'm looking for love."

It sounded absurd, it was absurd and at least he made her laugh. Like the joke about Daly Thompson. Her eyes danced, briefly.

He leaned forward, closer. She smelled like coconuts. "Anything?" he whispered, looking around.

A brief shake of her head. "Nothing. And you're my last one." Her nose screwed up in disappointment. "He's not here, it's a dead end."

"Never mind. Good try though boss." That was better. Neutral. Neutral was the way to play this. Just a temporary brain freeze. If he could get laid it would be better. Yeah, it would all be better in the morning…

_

Except it wasn't. It just got worse. Sending Shaz in undercover when she was so scared and vulnerable, calling her name across the wasteland. It just brought it all back: Alex. Bleeding all over the pavement. So much blood. What if it was Shaz next? What if they lost another one? It hit him then as his torch beam ricocheted off the rocks and stones and disused needles: what if the guv was dead? It stopped him immediately in his tracks. Alex looked back over her shoulder. "Ray? Come on!" She sounded snappy and impatient, he knew they didn't have any time to waste, they needed to find Shaz. Somehow, he managed to bury the thought and focus.

But Shaz didn't need rescuing, she was no damsel in distress. She was there, admittedly terrified and covered in blood, but she had done it. His heart flickered with pride. "Ray-"she was crying now. "He's hurt, he's badly hurt. I stabbed him with a screwdriver. He needs an ambulance." And suddenly she was there, in his arms. Trusting him to make it all okay. It scared him. Handing her gently back to Chris, he said, "Drake, come with me."

This was easier. Making the scum pay, maybe kicking the shit out of him, not being in too much of a hurry to call the ambulance. Except when it wasn't, except when it all came coming back. The blood, shit the blood. He was back there, he felt like he never stopped being there. Having Alex back hadn't stopped the 4:30 a.m. nightmares, so when his alarm went off an hour later it was a welcome distraction. That's why he always felt so energised at 6.00 – or so he kept telling himself. His stomach roiled, turned over.

"Ray? You okay?" She'd noticed. Shit. She couldn't know. He couldn't tell Alex the truth, how scared he'd been. He'd been praying she didn't remember what had happened.

"Of course." He'd quickly kicked Graham in the head. Neutral. Bravado. He was learning fast.

_

He'd been really surprised when Alex had asked the team to Luigi's, almost like old times. But it was a celebration. Shaz had been so brave, and she'd agreed to stay when Alex had promoted her to DC on the spot. It was perfect. He had to agree: Shaz was absolutely beaming, blossoming. Maybe Keats was right: they'd all been in Gene Hunt's shadow for so long, now he was gone it was their turn to shine. Was it such a bad thing he was gone? A few months ago, it would have been unthinkable, Ray had meant it when he'd said he'd jump off Tower Bridge for his guv and he still would but- Gene had shot Alex. That was a fact. Accident or not he hadn't been here to face the consequences he'd just scarpered. Why? Would they ever know? Would they ever see him again?

Alex slid onto the barstool next to him. "Weird, isn't it?" She said, taking a large gulp of her wine.

"Yeah," he agreed. "It is."

"Like a big piece is missing."

"A huge fucking hole." It felt good. Being honest with her.

Another gulp of wine, before she said, "Ray- you have to trust me."

"I do." Neither of them were convinced.

"I'm not hiding him."

"I never said you were."

"Well- you're thinking it." She finished her wine. "Come on, drink up. It'll be six o'clock soon enough."

Ray checked his watch. "Alex, it's nearly one. You sure?"

"I'm sure. Highlight of my day."

He didn't reply but it was the highlight of his too. Undoubtedly.

_

She was true to her word and so was he. Alex was there, six o'clock on the dot. It was just starting to get light, soon, after the clocks changed, they'd be arriving by daylight. It was like they were turning a corner.

"Didn't think you'd make it," Ray said by way of greeting, putting the key into the clock.

"I'm a woman of my word."

"That you are, Alex Drake, that you are. Just remember, no holding back, okay?"

"You either."