I've been so busy trying to bake a sourdough that actually turns out well, I have completely forgotten I was updating this. So sorry to anyone who has been reading! Otherwise..how's quarantine people? I'm baking bread that would make Paul and Prue weep with disappointment and watching/reading Outlander and cleaning A LOT. My cats are loving that I'm home so much and are super cuddly. Anyway, that's a look into my life you didn't need! Enjoy!

Gene stared at the woman sitting in Alex Drake's desk. She looked and sounded like Alex Drake, but as the days went on, he realised that she wasn't Alex. It had been nearly six weeks since he had discovered her on that boat, and still her memory had not returned. What was odd to Gene, however, was that the longer she went without her memory, the more comfortable she seemed. Surely she would want it back.

Alex looked across the room and smiled at him gently. God, even her smile was wrong! It was the smile one would show a stranger, not one of recognition.

Gene was suddenly struck by her similarity to the Alex Drake he had started to know in 1981. Not the batshit one he had carried into the station, but the one who had started settling down. After the Prices died, she had settled, treating him with a kind, but distant respect. They had built that relationship into something more, but now, it was all gone.

The door shut and he looked up. Gene hadn't even noticed that Ray had gotten up from his desk. Gene raised an eyebrow and poured him a scotch. Ray smirked at the gesture, picking it up from the desk and settling down in a chair.

"What do you think?" Gene asked, putting his feet up on his desk.

Ray copied the gesture, taking a sip of his scotch, and shrugged. "She's like an almost-Alex. Everything is the same, but just slightly different. Her hair isn't quite right, her mannerisms are almost there, but slightly off, she's changed her makeup. It all adds up to Alex, but it isn't."

Gene nodded in agreement. "Is she acting like she wants to get her memories back?"

"She hasn't really mentioned her memory at all. You know, she kind of treats us all like she did back when she first started. She's not as bonkers, that's for sure, but she treats us all as though she doesn't really care about who we are or what we're doing. If she called me a construct, I wouldn't be surprised."

Gene nodded, slightly surprised by the strangely insightful thoughts from Ray. Ray had described what Gene had been feeling perfectly. At home, at work, anywhere that they went, honestly, she treated him with a lukewarm manner. It was like he was an unwelcome guest in his own home.

"Darts?" Ray asked, breaking him from his reverie.

Gene nodded once. "We're not putting any bets on it, mind you."

Ray frowned. "Betting is what makes it fun."

"When you're the one winning the money. Stop being so competitive and maybe we can put a few quid on it again."

Ray made a noise of irritation, but said nothing else. He swigged the end of his scotch and nodded. "Fine. No money." He stood, walking over to the dartboard and grabbing the darts from the wall and board. Just as Ray lined up to start throwing, Gene's phone rang.

"DCI Hunt," he growled into his phone.

"Guv," Viv's voice said. "Report of a body came through on Coleman Street near Moorgate."

Gene didn't bother to say goodbye, slamming the phone down. "Dart game's over. Body on Coleman Street." He sighed and leaned against his desk. "What do you think? Should I take Drake?"

Ray looked out at the woman sitting at the desk, reading a book without a care in the world. "I don't really see any harm." He paused, studying her for a moment before speaking again. "Maybe we should put her in a stab vest just to be safe."

"Do you really think she's going to get stabbed staring at a dead body?"

"I mean, if anyone were to, it'd be her. Look at all the bloody situations she's gotten herself into."

Gene weighed them out in his mind, finally deciding that Ray was right. He opened the door to his office. "Shaz! Get Bolly a stab vest! We're going to go look at a dead body."

~(*)~

A sat in the car feeling ridiculous. They were making her wear a stab vest to look at a body. She was fully aware that no one else that was going to the scene was, but Gene had forced her to wear it.

"You're technically a civilian," Gene said. "If you get injured it's my bollocks, and I don't particularly want to give them up." She had sighed and relented, but put it on under a large jacket so that they may not notice when she took it off later.

For now, though, she was stuck in the car with three men who were slowly filling it with smoke. There was something familiar about the nicotine scene wafting over her, but no memories tried to come forward. None had tried to do so since the day she went to Luigi's, something she was thankful for. Even the little girl she had seen so much initially had disappeared. A knew that this was for the best. Anything associated with Alex was dangerous. The only reason she appeared at CID today was to confirm there was no fragment of memory left.

She was fully aware that Gene had watched her throughout the entire day. At one point Ray had gone in with the door closed. A was certain that the meeting was not about a case, but rather, her. She didn't really care. A few more weeks of dealing with Gene and she would be able to move on. She was already planning on moving into Alex's flat in a few days.

A was not sure of her next move after leaving Gene's flat, but she was certain she would not stay in Alex's flat long. Her goal was to find a job that didn't need experience, or recent memory. Once she started earning money, she would find a new place to live, and this whole experience would be behind her. Alex Drake would be nothing more than a memory to Fenchurch East CID.

She smiled grimly as she left the Quattro, following the men to the crime scene. The fetid smell of a rotting corpse overwhelmed her as she approached.

"Dead two to three days," Gene was saying. "Single gunshot wound to the head. Entrance wound in the forehead. The person knew what the attacker was doing."

Again, familiarity niggled at the back of A's mind. It felt almost like an itch on the back of her brain, begging her to scratch it. She ignored it, knowing that if she scratched it, it would probably pull away the scab and let the memories flow forth. This time though, ignoring the itch did nothing. It remained, the feeling getting stronger, until she was focusing all of her attention on not accessing that part of her brain.

"Bullet's over here Guv," Ray said, holding up a small piece of twisted metal.

Gene walked over to him, looking at the scrap of lead in his hand. "We'll need ballistics to confirm, but this looks like the same bullet that shot you, Bolly. And that other guy in the alley where your warrant card was found. Why don't you come look at it?"

A nodded and stepped forward, suddenly feeling physically ill. She wasn't sure why, the smell was bad, but not overwhelming. A tried to swallow her nausea and walked toward Gene, feeling lightheaded. With each step, black started to eat away the corners of her vision.

"Drake, are you okay?" Gene asked, staring at her.

A nodded. "I think I need to sit down," she said, but her words came out as jumbled nonsense.

"Alex, what's going on?" Concern was evident in Gene's voice now.

A nodded again. "I'm fine," she said, as the center of her vision turned black. Suddenly, she felt herself falling, tumbling deep into the darkness. Gene's voice sounded like it was miles away as it called her name. Everything went silent then, and she slipped into the world of her dark dreams.

She woke slowly. Her thirst overwhelmed her, her tongue feeling dry and cracked. She cracked one eye, trying to figure out where she was in her dark surroundings.

She heard the sound of water flowing, and her stomach dropped. She wasn't back there was she? Was everything she had experienced a strange dream to break the cycle of the darkness?

Summoning all the will in her body, A forced her other eye open. Slowly, she realized, she could see. Dark shapes surrounded the bed she was in, but she was able to see them.

The water stopped. Frowning, A climbed out of the bed she was in. She seemed to be wearing the same clothes from earlier, stab vest and jacket excluded. A few more seconds of study and she realized that she was in a flat of some sort. The air smelled stale and dusty, as though it had not been opened in ages. She turned on a light, looking around the bedroom.

The walls were a peach colour, and the furniture was wicker with bright red sheets on the bed. She frowned at them; they really weren't a good look. A stark white wardrobe sat against the wall. A opened it, women's clothes lined the hangars. She walked out into the main flat. There was a scarlet wall with a fireplace in what was clearly the main sitting area. A striped black and cream couch was pushed against the wall.

A looked through the kitchen. More than a few bottles of wine were stored there. Honestly, how many bottles of Sauvignon Blanc did someone need? There was also vodka, rum, and scotch. Did she get put in the flat of an alcoholic?

She tried to remember how she got here. A recalled a day at the office,mostly spent looking at old case files of Alex's. She had gotten into the Quattro, and then...nothing. She thought she remembered something about a body being found, and being forced to put on a stab vest, but if she had actually visited a crime scene, she recalled nothing.

The sound of muffled chatter and music came from downstairs. Curious, A walked out of the flat, down the stairs at the end of the corridor, surprised to find herself in Luigi's.

"So you woke up then," she heard a gruff voice say next to her. A turned in surprise to see Gene sitting a table near the stairs, clearly to be able to see when she came down.

"How long have I been out?"

"Six hours, give or take. We would have taken you to the doctor if it had gone on for too much longer."

"What happened?"

"You fainted when you saw a dead body. Nothing surprising. It's something we've seen before. Happens all the time to rookies." He gave her a look that clearly told her that he was disappointed. She technically wasn't a rookie and he had hoped by taking her on the scene, she would regain some memory of what to do. Not only had she gained no memory, she had passed out at the sight of a body. A felt somewhat embarrassed. She decided to try and change the subject instead.

"Who's flat did I wake up in?" she asked, knowing by the look on Gene's face, she had asked the wrong thing.

"It's your flat, Bolly," he said, his voice carefully calm. "We figured since you weren't coming round, we'd put you back in your flat and have a pint while we waited."

A looked around the restaurant. Everyone from CID was on the opposite side. No one had even noticed that she was down here. She had a sneaking suspicion that he wasn't exactly telling the truth, but didn't press him further.

Gene pushed a glass of red wine in front of her and she frowned. "I thought Alex only liked Sauvignon Blanc? Just from looking at the stock in her kitchen.

"You like all wine. Sauvignon Blanc is your favourite, but you only like it from the south island of New Zealand. You bought a shipment at some point and crack it open when you feel like it. When you're here in Luigi's, you drink the house chianti because it's cheap, and because it actually doesn't taste like shit. Don't you ever tell Luigi I said that."

A noted the emphasis on the word 'you', but chose to ignore it. She was fairly certain this was the first time she referred to Alex as a separate person to herself in front of Gene. He definitely noticed it, and she was certain that it would be brought up at her next meeting with the psychologist. A hoped that wouldn't delay her separation from Hunt. If the psychologist realized she had compartmentalized Alex, she may have to spend much longer awkwardly chatting with Gene at his flat.

She took a sip of the wine, raising her eyebrows at the taste. It was definitely cheap wine, but Hunt was right, it wasn't bad.

"Do you know how many nights we spent here, getting drunk together?" Gene asked her. A realized that he was trying to open up a little. She knew that he hoped that this would allow some of her memories to flow back.

"I'm assuming a lot?" she responded.

Gene raised one eyebrow. "Countless nights. Second night you were with us, we got piss drunk. You came down, in that leather jacket, tight jeans, blue shirt...You looked damn good, Bolly. We split four bottles of wine between us. Well, you had about one, and I had the rest." He smirked. "Your alcohol tolerance went up a bit when you came here."

A paid close attention to him. She knew after only spending a few weeks with the man that monologues like this were exceedingly rare. Gene Hunt was not a man who did emotions.

"After that, more often than not, you were down here drinking with us. Beer, wine, whatever. That's how we got to know you. That's how you got from being DI Drake to being 'the ma'am' to being Alex. That's how you formed your friendship with Shaz, with me, a motherly affection with Chris and a grudging respect for Ray. You were and are important to those people over there, Bolly. I know that you're not bothered by your memory being gone, but Chris, Shaz, Ray, they notice how you treat them. They miss you. You might not get your memories back, but can you at least try drinking with them for a few nights? They all looked up to you. Let them do it again."

A sat back,dumbfounded at Gene's passionate plea. She was certain that Alex had never heard anything like that in the Before, even if Gene was 'piss drunk.' He wasn't a man of emotions, he yelled his thoughts into action and they got angry if they weren't done. What had changed to make him act like this?

Gene looked embarrassed and swallowed the rest of the wine in his glass. He poured another one for himself, right to the brim. A smiled at that. "That's my favourite type of pour," she said.

Gene looked surprised, a half smile flitting across his lips before he turned them up into a pout. "I know." He leaned over, leaving the glass on the table and sipping the wine out until it was at a more reasonable level. Gene then picked it up and stood.

"Let's go talk to those buggers, shall we?" He really had left no room for argument so A nodded. Sighing deeply in concern and anxiety, she picked up her wine glass and headed over to the rest of CID. She may as well play along. After all, to them, soon it would be like she had never been found at all anyway.

Also ya'll seen the news about LOM coming back?! With EVERYONE? From BOTH series!? In both decades and an alternate present?! WTAF. I thought I left my fangirl days behind me and now...my Galex shippy heart...it sings... THERE BETTER BE A PROPER KISS THIS TIME AROUND. (Although the forehead kiss is everything perfect about that relationship...)