Thirty agonising minutes later, Alex was allowed out of her ward to see Ray. She had been treated for minor burns and was allowed to go home, but Ray (as a distressed Alex) was being kept over night.

Luckily when Alex poked her head round the door to Ray's ward, he was in there alone. Alex's mouth literally dropped open when she came face to face with herself.

"Oh my GOD," she gasped out loud. Hearing the gruff tones of his own voice, Ray looked up, to find himself standing three meters away standing like a poof.

"Tell me this is a bad dream," Ray quivered, "Ma'am, PLEASE tell me I'm dreamin'!"

"What the hell's happened?" Alex squeaked. Suddenly it was too much. They stared at each other, and then, in perfect unison –

"AAAAHHHH!"

"What in the world?" one of the nurses squawked, running into the room.

"Sorry!" Alex gushed, flapping her hands in a manner so that you could only perceive Ray as gay. "I'm just so excited to see my DI, she's been through such an ordeal –"

"Don't talk like a poof!" Ray barked in protest.

"I'm not talking like a poof, Ray –"

"ALEX!" Ray shouted, clearly confusing the nurse. "Erm, I'm fine thanks luv, could we just 'ave a minute? In private?"

"Are you sure you're all right, DI Drake? Is this man bothering you?" the nurse scowled.

"No, he's not. Now. Privacy. Five minutes. Leave please."

"I really don't think –"

"Just f*ck off!"

The nurse looked absolutely flabbergasted. "Well DI Drake, I shall give you and your DS five minutes, and then you need your rest." And with that she stalked out, slamming the door.

Alex glared at Ray. "How dare you make a spectacle of me, and how dare you talk to that nurse in that way!"

"You were making me out ter be a bloody poofter!" Ray protested. "This is all your fault anyway, you and your weird psychiatry crap and the bollocks that comes out of yer mouth…"

"You think I like this situation?" Alex hissed, sitting down on Ray's bed as he sulked, fiddling with the duvet. "I have absolutely no idea what is going on. I wake up as a bloody man after nearly being blown to pieces, and I have my bloody Detective Sergeant in my body!"

"Well making you a bossier bitch than you actually are is no price to pay compared to you making me look like a nancy boy!" Ray retorted, sitting up and thrusting himself nose to nose with Alex.

"Remember DS Carling, I am still your superior, so you better think twice about calling me a bitch!"

"Oh I don't think so."

"What?"

"I believe I'm DI Alex Drake now, Ma'am. I'm your superior officer."

Alex looked thunderous. "You are not pulling rank on me in CID. Wait a minute. We can't work like this! You are in no position to be a Detective Inspector and give psychological advice!"

"Oh this is going to be fun after all," Ray cackled.

"Yes, just as much fun as me making you come to work in a dress."

Ray's blood ran cold. "You wouldn't."

"I would."

Ray and Alex glared at each other for five murderous seconds. Finally, Alex broke the silence.

"We're going to have to sort this out," Alex sighed, "when you get out tomorrow, come to my flat. Your flat. Argh! The flat. I'll go back there tonight and then when you arrive we can sort this out."

"How? You ain't got a magic wand up there 'ave yer?" Ray smirked.

"No," Alex said primly, "but seeing as neither of us have any idea when we'll be switching back, it might be an idea to talk this over. For one, I don't want my reputation being sullied just because Ray Carling got his hands on my body."

"Don't let the Guv 'ear you sayin' that."

"Shut up."

"All right, all right. I s'pose that's the best idea. I need to teach you 'ow ter not be a poof anyway. Don't you dare walk 'ow you walked just a minute ago. I'll be out on my arse and made to join the Gay Rights Protestors."

"Okay, okay. And try not to be rude. Just act like me."

"What, like a bloody fruitcake?"

"Raymondo, would you like me to waltz down the corridor singing You're the One that I want from Grease?"

"No!"

"Then shut the hell up!"

------------------------

Alex managed to slip into her flat unnoticed as Ray and despite her mind-boggling day, she managed to drift off to sleep pretty quickly. Lying fully-clothed on the sofa, she was disturbed at eight o'clock the next morning by a loud knock on the door.

"Wha'?" Alex moaned sleepily.

"Come and open this bloody thing!" came the familiar hisses of her own voice. "Do you know how weird it looks for you ter be knocking at yer own flat?"

Alex scrambled to her feet and opened the door. She was met with the sight of herself, wearing yesterday's clothes and a scowling pout to challenge Gene's.

"Took you long enough," Ray grunted.

"Oh would you just try to sound a little more cultured? You don't know how awful it is to hear your

slang colloquialisms come out of my mouth."

"When you stop making me sound like the bloody queen," Ray retorted, crashing down on the sofa.

-----------------------------

Thirty minutes and a bottle of alcohol later, Ray and Alex had managed to come to some form of agreement. They were to do their best to represent each other well whilst stuck in this predicament. Alex had told Ray just to fake illness this week, and that way it might be a bit more believable when CID goes into shock as Alex Drake isn't talking that much. As Alex had a background in the studying of humans, she had assured Ray that his manly, sexist reputation would be safe with her, but if he dared pull rank or show her up deliberately in any way then it would be a pink bikini for him.

"Ray," Alex said nervously as one very important factor came into her mind.

"What?" said Ray.

"How am I going to…you know…go?"

There was silence. Ray swallowed.

"You won't."

"What?"

"You won't go. I'm not 'avin you 'andling my pride and joy."

"So what am I supposed to do? Wet myself? Wet yourself? Argh! THIS SELF?"

"No. Don't eat. Don't drink."

"You want me to deprive your own body of nutrients?"

"Yes."

Alex looked livid. "Fine. But that's going to draw more attention to the fact that you're not yourself."

"What is?"

"The fact you're not eating."