AN: Again, thank you to those that have reviewed and put this story on alert, enjoy the next instalment :)

The Upper Hand

Gene laced his fingers through Alex's. He felt very uncomfortable, even though the whole place was nearly empty. He thought about asking her why she was making him do this but he already knew the answer.

She led him towards a dining table, the 'Susannah', a model which Gene remembered had been the third most purchased item during Ray and Chris' week-long stakeout. As Alex dropped his hand to examine the table, Gene wondered if this was how it would be if he was married or engaged to Alex for real- her leading him around, making all the decisions. He doubted it somehow. For all of Drake's 'I'm-the-most-senior-woman-in-the-Met" bossiness, he was in charge in CID. Sometimes.

"What do you think, Bolls?"

"Very sturdy, Guv," said Alex, looking up at him.

"Don't call me that," Gene snapped. "We're supposed to be undercover."

"Sorry," smiled Alex, "Very sturdy, darling."

"This isn't a game, Alex," whispered Gene. "Anything else?"

Alex ran her hands over the table, her fingers lightly caressing it. Gene watched in amazement as she glanced shiftily at him, then pressed her face until it was inches from the surface. All though Gene now had an excellent view of her arse since she was bent over, he noticed someone wearing the shop's uniform staring at her.

"Bolly, get up."

Alex stood up just as the shop assistant walked over. Her face had broken into a wide smile which she quickly hid.

"Can I help you?" said the assistant.

"Hello," Alex said brightly. "We would like to buy this table."

"This table is available to seat six or eight," said the assistant smoothly. "Which one do you require?"

"This exact one, the eight," replied Alex. She looked teasingly at Gene. "Don't you agree, darling?"

Gene eyed her carefully. He knew why she was doing this. She thought that he hated every minute and it was true that he felt very out of his depth. However, he knew that was because Drake was in charge of the situation, that she had the upper hand. Alex wasn't going to get away with it.

"We're getting married, you see," explained Gene, snaking his arm around Alex and pressing a kiss to her hair, causing her to stiffen slightly. "And we're planning on having plenty of children, meaning the larger table will be necessary."

Who had the upper hand now?

The assistant muttered his congratulations and walked away to fetch a 'Susannah' from storage. Alex turned to face Gene, a strange look in her eyes.

"Well, that was the story, Bolls," Gene murmured, his eyes twinkling.

"I know," she sighed. "I supposed I asked for that."

It wasn't until the table had been loaded into the Quattro and they were halfway back to the station that Gene remembered.

"Why exactly, Bolly, were you sniffing that table?"

XXX

She didn't tell him until they were back in the office. Gene carried the box through, almost dropping it when he heard her tell Viv to get her a saw. He dumped it on Alex's desk and watched her open it.

Alex smiled as Viv left the saw next to her but not leave CID. She knew everyone was watching her since even for her this was eccentric.

The table was in pieces but had still required a huge box. Ikea will show you how this is done one day Alex thought. She took one of the legs out of the box and held it over the edge of the desk. She picked up the saw and placed it against the wood. Just before she used it she glanced up and noticed a strange look on Gene's face. Alex had seen that look before.

"You, in leather, holding that. Gives me the right horn."

Alex began to saw.

"DI Drake, my patience is wearing thin," said Gene as half a leg fell to the floor.

Alex picked up the leg and looked at the cross-section. "Not hollow, bugger," she muttered, throwing it to Gene who caught it and seemed to realise what she was trying to do.

"Chris, take this, get another saw and slice it up. Bolly, what the bloody hell are you doing now?"

Alex had taken the table surface out of the box, lain it across her desk, and was now smelling it, just as she had done in Farrant's. She stepped away from it after about a minute, tears pricking at her eyes.

"I was so sure," she whispered.

"Drake, stop fannying about!"

"Smell it, Guv."

"What, did you just say, Drake?"

"Just do it," Alex said and watched as Gene's outraged face bent over the table. He exaggerated an inhale and looked back, still furious.

"Well?"

"Well what? Smelled like wood an' varnish to me."

"Not vinegar?"

"No," Gene said shortly. "Did you think there was heroin in the varnish, Drake? Or in the table leg?" He gestured over to Chris who was covered in sawdust. "Chris hasn't bloody found anything and I bet he won't in any of the other legs. Face it Drake, the fires are nothing more than a coincidence and you are wasting my time!"

Alex tried not to flinch, those had been her thoughts. She didn't see how this could be wrong, how the assistant could have known they were police officers and sold them a clean table. Had he heard them talking? But then she had been so sure she could smell vinegar in the display table and that's what heroin smelled like…

Ray picked up a ringing phone, listened to it then turned to Gene.

"There's been a house fire. Whole family dead. Man, wife, two kids. Blaze started by wood, specifically burning furniture."

AN: I should point out that what I know about heroin- specifically that it smells like sweet vinegar- I got from Double Cross by Malorie Blackman. I'm also assuming it's possible to mix it with varnish, so sorry if it isn't.