I've been writing like a demon to try and get this fic finished before I go away for a few days, hence the quicker updating than normal!
Everybody's been so kind with the reviews I didn't want to keep you all waiting till next week, so here's chapter 3. The fourth and final chapter should be done in the next couple of days, all being well.
.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Chapter 3
"DCI Hunt. What can I get you?"
"Whiskey please, Nelson."
Gene pouted, deep in thought, waiting patiently for his drink, and Nelson raised a quizzical eyebrow, noticing he seemed somewhat distracted.
"Something on your mind, Mon Brave?"
He pushed the glass across the bar and Gene took a deep breath, wondering how much to reveal.
"D'yer think it's possible to see into the future, Nelson? And is everythin' that's goin' ter happen just down ter fate, or can it be changed?" He shook his head as if to clear it. If he carried on like this his brain was likely to explode. "Just ignore me, pal, I'm talkin' a load of old cobblers."
Nelson leaned forwards and spoke quietly, dropping the fake Jamaican accent that he used in front of most customers.
"In this life, here, it seems ter me all things are possible, my friend. Past, present, future … they all co-exist. And some people's heads hold a lot more than they know, particularly yours."
He gave Gene a significant look, and moved away to serve someone else. Gene took a seat on his own in the corner, he didn't feel like being sociable today, too much going on in his mind.
He was even more confused now. What had Nelson meant about heads holding more than they know? And why his in particular? There was something lurking at the edge of his consciousness, he felt as though he was missing something important but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. He racked his brains, trying to grope his way towards whatever it was, but with no success: it was like tuning in a radio and not quite managing to find the station.
What a load of rubbish, he thought. He was an uncomplicated man with straightforward needs, it was just a dream, and that was all there was to it. Any more of this spooky-dooky bollocks and he was in danger of turning into her, Madam Fruitcake.
He took a good mouthful of whiskey and rested his eyes for a couple of seconds, relishing the burn at the back of his throat. What with the dreams disturbing his sleep and all the shagging he'd been doing recently he was pretty much running on empty. He craved a restful night's kip above just about anything else at this precise moment.
"I'll let you stamp my bum."
"I'll get me coat."
He rubbed a hand over his eyes. Why was this bloody woman always in his head?
"Now then, Bollinger-Knickers, yer gonna kiss me or punch me?"
He could feel the fullness of her breast under his hand.
"So I'm not a hooker. But if I was, do you know something, Gene? You could never, ever afford me …"
She was virtually nose to nose with him and he'd never been more pissed off or more turned on in his life.
He sighed, opening his eyes. So much for getting some decent kip. Downing the rest of his drink in one, he picked up his coat and raised a hand to Nelson in farewell. As he left, Chris, Ray and Phyllis all looked at one another knowingly. Phyllis was the first to speak.
"He's got another bird, it's the only explanation." She tapped her forehead with two fingers, a lighted cigarette still gripped firmly between them. "Female intuition."
If Gene had overheard her, he'd have been tempted to pat her on the back. She'd pretty much hit the nail on the head, after all.
xxxxxxxxxxxx
"Gene, what's this all about? You havin' a mid-life crisis? Feelin' the need to prove somethin'? Not that I mind so much, I've been walkin' around with a big smile on me face fer the last few weeks, but at this rate I'll be reduced ter crawlin' soon."
They were lying in bed together sharing a much-needed cigarette after he'd arrived home early and ravished her for the fifth night in succession. He thought fast.
"Dunno, luv. 'Ave yer changed yer perfume recently or put some powdered rhino 'orn in me dinner?"
She snorted, digging him in the ribs with her elbow.
"Neither. But I am thinkin' of gettin' hold of some bromide."
He chuckled, stubbing the fag out in the ashtray.
"Maybe it's the thought of turnin' forty soon, it's given me libido a much needed kick up the arse. I'm worried yer might leave me fer a younger man."
He winked at her and she raised an eyebrow at him.
"If you carry on like this I'll be lookin' fer an older man, preferably one that can't get it up. Maybe then I'll get some peace of a night."
She squealed as he rolled on top of her and pinned her down on the mattress.
"Now yer know yer don't mean that. Yer can't get enough of me, woman, never could."
She struggled as his hands began to roam freely over her body, his teeth nipping at her throat.
"Gene Hunt, get yer 'ands off me. Yer can't possibly be capable of doin' it again so soon at your age."
He flashed her an evil grin.
"Now yer in big trouble, luv. Yer know I always rise to a challenge …"
xxxxxxxxxxxxx
Gene was sat at his desk eating a meat pie and grumbling to himself. What was wrong with him? Suddenly all he wanted was a pizza and some house rubbish. He didn't even drink wine normally, wine was for the ladies and the limp-wristed brigade. Even bloody Tyler didn't usually drink vino, for all his poncy ways. A vision of Sam the day they met sprang into his head.
"Surprise me. What year is this supposed to be?"
There it was again, that feeling nagging at him, like he'd forgotten something vital. It was starting to really annoy him now.
"Sam Tyler is from the future …"
That whole situation had been particularly weird even for Sam, acting like he knew the man, knew what would happen if Eve stayed with him. But Tony Crane was insane, wasn't he? They'd had him banged up for it, after all. Still, there was something strangely unsettling about Sam, he had to admit, even though he'd come to like and respect him. They'd all put it down to concussion when he first arrived, but it was more than that. Like he was a man out of his time, somehow.
He did seem to be very settled now though, with the job and with Annie. He wouldn't be surprised to hear the sound of wedding bells in the near future, and good luck to them both, they were made for each other.
He shrugged, forcing the rest of the pie down. It was just these dreams, getting him all worked up over nothing. If he did ever get to meet this Alex Drake he'd give her a piece of his mind. And a seeing to she'd never forget.
xxxxxxxxxxxxx
"I go where I'm needed, Bols."
A series of scenes ran through his dream like a film: a little girl with a red balloon, Alex taking a breath just as he was about to give her the kiss of life, carrying her into CID dressed as a prostitute. Alex smiling at him fondly over dinner, him tucking a blanket round her sleeping body, nuzzling into her hair as she swayed gently in his arms.
"I thought I'd lost you, Guv."
Never, he thought. I won't let that happen.
Feeling his heart shatter into tiny pieces when she kissed him softly on the lips, the tears chasing one another down her cheeks as she walked away from him and didn't look back …
"Alex!"
He sat bolt upright in bed and Cynthia rolled towards him, still drugged with sleep.
"Shhh luv, just a bad dream …"
His heart was pounding but not with excitement this time. He couldn't lose her. Not before he'd even found her, for God's sake.
"Gene, who's Alex?"
"What?"
"Yer shouted 'Alex'"
He thought quickly, even though he was still dazed.
"Victim in a case we've been dealin' with. Messy business. Some of 'em get ter yer more than others, yer know how it is."
She sat up and wrapped her arms round him and he felt a twinge of guilt. It wasn't like he'd actually been unfaithful or anything though, was it?
xxxxxxxxxxxxx
That was the last time he dreamt about her, and slowly but surely everything began to get back to normal. He spent more time at work or in the pub, his libido calmed down somewhat, Sam and Annie announced their engagement and the department carried on clearing the streets of scum.
And as the months went by the dreams began to fade, and the woman in the tight jeans and the leather jacket who had turned his life upside down for a while became a distant memory.
Life was about the here and now, he realised. No point thinking too far ahead, let the future take care of itself …
.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxx
I haven't had a good cliff-hanger for a while. Although you've probably got some idea where this is headed …
Hope you're still enjoying, all reviews much appreciated. If you're very kind, I'll try and get the final instalment up by tomorrow night! Promise. :)