Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who has read, reviewed so far. I'm not at all sure about this fic so this is a shameless plea for more reviews so I know I'm on the right track (or not!).

Alex awoke, blinking at the ceiling in an effort to work out what had woken her. She heard the chink of glass on glass and leaned up on her elbows, gazing around the room.

In the half-light afforded by the streetlamp outside, she could see Gene slouching in the room's only chair, legs stretched out and crossed at the ankle. A half full bottle of scotch resided on the table at his elbow and he held a glass holding a generous measure in the tips of his fingers. His head was tilted back on the headrest and his eyes were closed, lashes forming dark semi-circles against his cheeks.

She sat up properly, trying to move without making a sound.

'Didn't mean to wake yer, Bolls.'

At the low growl of his voice, Alex narrowed her eyes, scrutinising him in greater detail. He hadn't moved, had given no signal that he knew she'd awoken, but even in the semi-darkness of the room she could see the tension in him.

'Go back ter sleep, Bolly,' he murmured, lifting his head and taking a gulp from the tumbler before sighing and letting his head fall back again, all without ever opening his eyes.

Alex took in his rumpled appearance, wondering how long he'd been gone. He was still wearing his coat over a shirt badly in need of an iron and his tie was pulled so loose he might as well have dispensed with it altogether. The top three buttons of his shirt were undone, exposing his upper chest. His hair – slightly too long, Mabel Stubbs had been right - was in stark disarray, reminding her forcibly of the night she'd returned from the Railway Arms to find him in his office in the middle of the night.

'Was it Sandra?' she asked quietly, dreading the answer.

His jaw tensed and his lips moved into a pout for a moment, before relaxing. 'No. Another girl. Fifteen years old. Some bastard stabbed her and left her in the canal.'

'Oh, Gene…'

'Notified her parents.'

'You notified her parents? Shouldn't DCI West –'

'Yeah well, Gaz was a bit worse for wear. Dad got a bit violent.'

Looking closely at him, she saw there was a scratch under his eye, as though someone wearing a ring had hit him. 'Towards you?'

'Understandable, Bolls. Don't like to think what I'd do if it was me.'

She pushed the blankets away and swung her bare legs out of bed, padding over to him and lightly running her fingers through his hair, settling it back into place. 'Come to bed, Gene.'

'I'm all right here, Bolly. Besides, 's almost four.'

Alex climbed up until she was straddling his lap, the fabric of his coat coarse against the inside of her thighs.

Gene's eyes opened minutely and he regarded her from under his lashes. 'What are you up to, woman?'

She leaned forwards and kissed him, running her tongue over his lips until he allowed her access. As they kissed, he reached out and deposited the tumbler on the side table before sliding his hands up under the shirt she'd stolen from his suitcase to wear to bed.

When they broke apart for air, Alex reached down between their bodies, fumbling with his belt buckle.

'Thought you wanted me to come to bed?' he asked, sounding amused through his breathlessness.

'If Mohammed won't come to the mountain…' she glanced up at him as she moved her hands to his shirtfront.

'Not really the time, love,' he said tiredly, making no move to stop her as she removed his tie and unbuttoned his shirt.

'Insatiable bloody woman,' he muttered as she began to nuzzle at his jaw.

'Do you want me to stop?' she asked against his skin, nipping gently at his jaw.

He dropped his head back on the headrest, letting his eyes flutter closed as his hands skated up her sides, coming to rest over her breasts, weighing them in his palms.

As she moaned and writhed in his lap, he pushed his hands upwards, sliding the material of the shirt she wore backwards until her shoulders were bare. Moving with some urgency now, she stripped the shirt off so she was sitting naked in his lap.

He shifted as though to remove his coat but she put a hand on his chest, stilling him. He looked at her quizzically.

'Leave it on,' she murmured, shifting backwards slightly and reaching for his fly.

'Blimey, Bolls. You tryin' ter give me a heart attack or somethin'?'

'You need to relax, Gene.'

'Can't say as what you seem to be plannin' is likely to relax me, Bolly,' he growled, leaning forwards to bite down on her shoulder. 'Not at first, anyway.'

\/\/

A church. It was some kind of church. Sam Tyler was walking with an Asian man who looked as though he'd been through the wars.

Gene's voice rang out, echoing through the church. 'What the bloody hell are you doing here?'

'What the bloody hell areyoudoing here?' Sam shot back, clearly furious with Gene.

'I'm eliminating the drug problem in the only way I know I can.'

'Oh, so this is the way we do it now, is it? We let our mate Toolbox kill him, and then we all go out for a nice curry?'

The heavyset man behind Sam spoke up and Alex watched annoyance flash across Sam's features. 'Good idea. I could murder an Indian.'

'If you do this,' Sam said, desperately trying to talk Gene down. 'There's no turning back. You know that, don't you? When you look in the mirror, there'll be a different man looking out at you.'

'I've become that man already,' Gene snarled. 'I've had to be. So that people round here can live their lives without worrying about thebastardspushing drugs at our families. Ruining lives.'

'Okay. If you're that man—' he picked up a hammer and waved it at Gene 'You kill him. Go on. If you're that man, you don't need anyone else. Here. You do it.'

Alex watched as Gene took the hammer, piercing gaze holding Sam's. He hesitated a moment, considering it, and Alex thought about what Sam had said about Gene's brother. What Mabel had said. Suddenly Gene threw the hammer away, frustration and anger warring on his features as he turned and stalked out of the church.

As the scene faded, Alex became aware of bodiless voices.

'Stu? Wake up. It's Gene.'

'Genie?'

''s right. I've come to take you in, Stuie. I've got to.'

'My brother the copper.'

'Oh, Stuie. Why'd you have to be 'ere? Why now?'

'Doesn' matter, Genie. Won't make it anywhere near your nick.'

\/\/\

When Alex woke up again it was light outside. For a moment, the words of her dream echoed in her mind. Gene's voice with its slightly desperate tone giving her an unsettling feeling quite at odds with he pleasant ache still in evidence in her muscles.

Rolling over onto her other side to look for the man responsible for both feelings, she saw the other half of the bed was empty. Gene must be in the shower.

She sat up, retrieving the blanket from the bottom of the bed where the combined efforts of herself and Gene had banished it a few hours ago. Rising, she wrapped it around herself and moved over the en-suite door.

'Gene?' she called, knocking loudly.

'What?' he shouted back.

'Shall I order breakfast?'

'What?' he responded, sounding exasperated at her continued attempts to shout over the shower.

'Breakfast!'

'Hold up a minute,' he shouted.

She heard the water stop running and moments later he pulled the door open, standing just inside the bathroom with a towel slung around his hips, rubbing his hair with another.

'I asked if you wanted me to order breakfast,' she said.

'No time, Bolly. 'op in the shower and we'll grab summat on the way in.' As she moved past him, he reached out and slapped her on the behind, making her let out a squeal she was entirely ashamed of. 'Good girl,' he said, smirking as she slammed the bathroom door.

\\/

When she re-emerged from the en-suite, Gene was just finishing buttoning his shirt. She flicked her eyes over him, taking him in from the still-wet tips of his hair, to his bare toes, wriggling in the carpet as he whistled tunelessly to himself.

She moved towards her suitcase and extracted a pair of jeans along with her underwear.

'You 'ad a chance to look at this yet?' Gene asked, holding up Sandra Larkin's diary.

'I had a quick look through,' she said, drying her legs smirking as she saw his gaze flick from the small book to watch her hands.

He flicked through the diary. 'Who's this Michael?'

'Her brother,' Alex said.

He shook his head. 'Her brother's Mikey.'

'It's the same name.'

'Thank you DI-State-the-Bloody-Obvious. But she always calls him Mikey. Look.'

He held out the book and she walked over to him, hitching the towel up as she moved. She took the book from him and paged through it. 'How did you spot that and I didn't?' she asked.

'Don't let it worry you Bolls,' he said, turning back to the mirror, picking up his tie from the dressing table and looping it around his neck. 'You were obviously distracted by my masculine presence.' He glanced up and caught the worried look on her face. 'Oh for God's sake, woman. Stop worryin'. 's not like I have a bloody hissy fit every time you spot something I don't.'

'You'd never be stopping,' she murmured, flicking through the book.

'Charming,' he said, narrowing his eyes at her in the mirror. 'Try to cheer a bird up and get abuse. Typical.'

She looked up at him. 'I think you're right, Guv.

'Do me a favour and don't call me Guv when you're dressed like that.' She looked down at her body, wrapped only in a towel. 'Makes it 'ard to concentrate.'

She rolled her eyes. 'As I was saying, I think you're right. It's a different person.'

He nodded. 'We'll get Gaz's lot onto it when we get to the station.' He moved to the bed and sat down, reaching for his socks.

'You're capable of some highly insightful psychological observations when you want to be,' she said, watching him.

'Don't go getting yer expensive unmentionables in a twist, Bolls. You're still a valued member of the team.'

'I can't,' she said.

'What's that?' he asked, glancing up at her, a lock of slightly damp hair falling over his forehead.

'Get my unmentionables in a twist,' she supplied. 'Not wearing any, Guv.'

He narrowed his eyes at her. 'Right. That's it.' He stood and moved to stand in front of her, her lack of shoes meaning he was towering over her. He grabbed the corner of her towel and tugged, running his eyes down her body as the blanket fell to the floor.

'We're going to be late to the station,' she warned, shivering slightly as his fingertips trailed over the flesh just above her hips.

'No one to blame but yourself, Bolly,' he growled, dropping his face to her neck.

\/\/

When they strode into CID they found most of the officers there manfully engaged in a lively discussion around one of the desks.

'Hey up,' Gene muttered. 'Look who it is.'

Alex followed his gaze and saw Simon sitting at a desk, his head in his hands.

Gene moved silently over to the desk and brought his hands down hard on the surface. 'Sergeant!'

Simon's head jerked upwards, his skin an unmistakeable shade of grey. 'Guv.'

'Hungover, Simon? Tut tut.'

'Sorry, Guv,' Simon said, looking as though he was trying not to throw up.

'Here,' Gene said, reaching into his jacket pocket and extracting a hipflask. 'Hair o' the dog. Have a nip o' that and get yer arse down to he canteen and get a bacon butty to go.' As Simon shuffled off, clutching the hipflask tightly, Gene turned to the rest of the room, all of whom looked amused at his treatment of the DS. 'You lot, your DCI in?'

'In your office, Guv,' one of the officers said. 'His office,' he corrected hurriedly.

Gene merely nodded and stalked over to the office, Alex just behind him.

'Mornin', Gaz,' Gene said loudly.

Gary West sat up, swinging his legs down from the desk and looking momentarily guilty before presumably remembering he was in his own office. 'Gene,' he greeted. 'Modest entrance as ever. What can I do you for?'

'I'll be heading out with DS Tremaine to look for that bastard Carson in about ten minutes. DI Drake here has 'ad a look through Sandra Larkin's diary so she's going to talk your officers through one of her psychological profiles. She does go on a bit but try to stay awake, you might learn something.'

Alex sent him a brief disparaging look, which he completely ignored before turning and sweeping out of the room.

DCI West smiled at her. 'Right. S'pose we better get cracking. I'll round up the troops.'

\/\/\

'Sandra Larkin,' Alex said, addressing the decidedly hung over members of CID. 'Thirteen years old. By all accounts a good girl. What else do we know about her?'

'Dad's an alkie,' one of the officers volunteered.

'Mother works to top up the housekeeping,' West said. 'Brother's a druggie.'

'Good,' Alex said, turning to the flipchart she'd erected in the corner of the room and writing down the family structure. 'Her diary refers to someone called Michael,' she said, ignoring the surge of annoyance that Gene had spotted the discrepancy first. 'Not her brother, she always refers to him as Mikey. Anyone know of any other Michaels in her life?'

She turned back to a sea of blank faces. 'Who have you questioned?' she asked.

'Family, teachers at the school, neighbours. Some of the girls she went to school with.

'Did she go to a girls' school?' Alex asked, leaning forwards and flicking through her notepad. 'I thought it was mixed…'

'It was,' West confirmed.

'Did you not question any of the boys?'

'Didn't think there was much point,' one of the other officers said. DC Kershaw, Alex remembered.

'Why not?' she asked.

'Well, at her age…'

'She had a brother. An older brother. It's safe to assume she was probably quite comfortable with boys.'

'Right, Kershaw and Hanworth,' West said, rising and turning to glare at the rest of the room. 'I want you down at the school, question the boys this time.' DC Kershaw and a young WDC stood and headed for the door. West turned back to Alex. 'What now?'

She recapped the marker she'd been using to write on the flipchart. 'I'd like to borrow a car, please. I want to have another chat with Sandra's mother if possible.'

'I'll come with you.'

'I'd like to try it on my own, if that's all right?'

West nodded. 'Woman to woman, eh? Good plan. See the front desk. We'll follow up on this 'Michael' lead and on the girl from last night.'

\/\/