I don't own Ashes to Ashes
---
To Alex's relief, Ray and Chris had already interviewed Amanda, and Rosa McKellen's mother now sat in the cells alone, sobbing constantly, legs pulled up to her chest and pretty face wrecked by tears and bleeding make-up. Looking through the hatch at her, Alex was filled with a mixture of revulsion and pity; pity, for the woman who lost her daughter to brutalities beyond belief, and yet revulsion, at the fact the same woman could commit a similar crime to the man she had once sworn to share a life with, to love until death parted them...
"You reckon she's tellin' the truth?" Gene asked when she had slid the hatch up again, leaning against the wall with a cigarette caught between his lips, eyes not faltering as they fixated on hers. Alex half-shrugged and half-nodded, slumping against the wall beside him and leaning her head back onto the concrete wall behind her, contemplating briefly before speaking out.
"I hope not," she said quietly, "but for some reason, I can't help but believe her."
Gene frowned, taking another drag on his cigarette before saying, "you think she's a murderer?" His voice rang with disbelief, and Alex shook her head.
"I don't believe it was planned for a second... but I can quite imagine her acting on pent-up anger in a moment of rage and directing it all onto him." She looked round to find him staring straight at the metal door that separated them from Amanda's wretched sobs of despair. "Don't you think so?"
Stubbing out his cigarette, he muttered, "let's listen to the tape, Bols... then we'll see, 'ey?" And with that, he turned away from her, heading back to his office with Alex close on his heels.
---
"You're tellin' me you killed yer 'usband?" Ray's voice echoed from the tape player on Gene's desk, whilst Gene sat in his leather chair, one arm supporting his chin as he stared, the other dangled over the armrest on which Alex sat, balancing herself precariously on the plastic arm with his forearm grazing against her arse, the two of them staring at the small black box, which currently rested atop a large stack of ignored paperwork, trepidation and fear coursing through their veins.
"Yes..." Amanda McKellen's voice was cracked, despairing, and Gene could feel Alex tense against his arm, slipping his hand to her outer thigh and gently caressing it in a tentative gesture of comfort, not moving his gaze or even changing his expression as he stared thoughtfully at the tape player.
"An' you're tellin' me you wanted to come 'ere an' tell us?" Ray was evidently hiding disbelief and annoyance; his voice was clipped, tight, and it was clear to both Gene and Alex that his temper was close to snapping.
"Yes... yes... I did it... I'm sorry... I did it..." More sobbing, a snort that sounded almost like someone blowing in a hanky, and then Chris's softer voice cutting in amongst her sobs and anguished tears.
"D'you fancy a cuppa, love?" It was almost comic in its value, with Chris' compassionate sounding voice offering an everyday beverage, completely contradicting the harsh sobs emanating from Amanda and the heavy, angry breathing of Ray as they sat there in the interview room discussing a murder confession...
Another snort, this time of grief mixed with baffled amusement, "no... No... I just... I didn't mean to!" Her voice was panicked again, increasing slowly in pitch, and Alex could imagine Amanda glancing frantically from Ray to Chris as though searching for something, anything; a sign of understanding, perhaps, a nod... from Ray's voice, she assumed that Amanda never received any such thing.
"So you killed your 'usband?" Ray asked again.
"Yes..."
A pause, and then Chris interjected with a timid, "how?"
"What d'you mean how, you poofter?" Ray asked, "you bloody know 'ow! You heard from the Guv didn't yer? They bloody-"
"She might not know though, mate... She might not know anything at all. Gotta ask, ain't yer? Everything-"
"-is significant," Alex finished, nodding along with Chris's disembodied voice. Gene sighed.
"You've bloody brainwashed 'im, Bols... you an' Sam both..." he muttered half-heartedly, falling quiet once more when Amanda's voice sounded afresh.
"I was... I was upstairs... I'd come round to see him in the morning because... because I needed him... and... And he was down in the living room when the door went... it was your lot -that Hunt and Drake pair... Anyway, I'd known they were going to come because... well, because they'd asked questions about him... only, when I was coming down to sit with him, I heard him talking about Rosa... and I'd heard it all before, of course I had... but it was... it was different somehow... like he wasn't hiding anything from them two..." her breathing was heavy, laboured, and full of emotion that caused Alex's throat to tighten. "Told them about how he couldn't stand looking at her – he couldn't look at his own baby!" At this a wail swept over the conversation and both Gene and Alex flinched at the high pitched intonation and the unashamed volume of the mothers' grief.
"And then he said she wasn't even his- hadn't been for eleven years! And how could anyone say that about their baby, Detective? I was angry... I wasso angry!" There was a long pause, in which Amanda's breathing remained heavy and both Ray and Chris stayed in uncharacteristic silence, nothing being said and, if the lack of noise was anything to go by, no actions being taken.
Alex's mind whirred with thought as she stared at the tape in pain, imagining the unbearable heartache of hearing your child's other parent openly disown them, admit their inability to look at them... when Alex had listened to Jeremy, as an outsider to the family, it had been apparent to her that whatever feelings Jeremy housed for Rosa now and in the recent past, they had once been warm, flourishing flowers of care, the same as any other father, which had since been caught in a blisteringly cold winter wind and turned to ice...
From Amanda's point of view, though, Alex could only imagine the hurt and pain that those words had caused; almost like a heated knife plunging into the depths of her heart, implanting rage and hatred such as she had probably never known, nor would ever want to know again... The thought of Peter, disowning Molly as Jeremy had done to Rosa, made her blood boil, and she supposed that the final nail in the coffin for Amanda was that Jeremy had still been with her, still declared his love and commitment to their marriage but refused to accept Rosa as having any part in it...
"They left after that... DCI Hunt was angry and Drake followed him straight off. I had to run into the kitchen to hide from them, because I didn't want them to know I was eavesdropping, and there was this knife there where he'd been cutting the bread for our lunch, and it was just staring at me like-"
"Bloody 'ell," Ray growled quietly, "knives do not stare you plonk! Now are you gunna fess up proper like, or are we gunna sit 'ere and let you animate a teacup and a wooden spoon? 'cause if we are, I fancy a fag an' a biccy... then maybe we can 'ave a little tea party with all your kitchen utensils, 'ey Miss?"
Alex heard Gene snort in amusement and turned to look at him, eyebrows raised. Gene shrugged himself back into what he thought was a professional demeanour and said, in his most serious voice, "sounded like a good question to me, Bols."
At that, Alex laughed too, shaking her head and turning back to the tape, the small smile which tugged at her lips wiped away as Amanda's anecdote continued on. "You don't understand," she was saying, her voice desperate, lost... "I wasn't myself it just... it took me over! I didn't want to kill him! I really didn't!" There was a pause, then a whisper, "I just got so angry... And when I walked in he denied it all, said he hadn't disowned her, that he loved her, but he just couldn't bear to see her so broken... and I snapped!" She sobbed again, her words difficult to decipher as she whimpered her apologies, over and over, "I'm sorry! I'm so, so, sorry, but I killed him! I'm a horrible, horrible person! "I'm sorry... I'm so, so, sorry!" I'm an awful woman and-" It was there that Gene stopped the tape, fingers pressing down hard on the stop button as he felt Alex stiffen in recognition of the same downward stoop in self-esteem that the other woman had experienced in the aftermath of Rosa's death.
"Why'd you stop it?" Alex said softly, not looking at him, eyes resting on his fingers as they rested on the desk, her throat dry.
"Do you really need to hear anything else?" He asked, though they both understood that wasn't the reason for his stopping the tape; she didn't need to listen to that all over again. "She knew what was said, she knew I left angry and that you followed me, and she knew the murder weapon was a bread-knife," he elaborated, as though to disprove the fact he didn't want her to suffer, "I'd say she's got it down to the T and we can be in Luigi's by six." He checked his watch pointedly, and nodded. "I'll get onto Bronson and see what 'e's got."
With a gentle slap to her thigh, he silently indicated that she should leave the office as he leant for the telephone, but she chose instead to remain where she was, raising an eyebrow at him in mock-daring; with a sigh, he dialled the number, put the receiver to his ear, and settled back into the leather cushioning of his desk-chair. As the dialling tone echoed in his ear, he muttered cheekily to her, "insubordinate cow," before moving his hand slightly to place another affectionate slap on her behind, smirking when she responded by glaring pointedly at him.
"Hello?" The voice at the other end said, and Gene waggled his eyebrows at Alex as he gently rubbed her through the denim, speaking calmly and easily into the phone.
"Bronson? It's Hunt. Tell me you've got something."
----
The forensic lab had fast become an everyday setting for their work, and though Alex was used to it, it still made her skin crawl; she didn't think she would ever become immune to the complete lack of humanity that echoed through the room in the smell of disinfectant and the sight of dead flesh...
Once they had entered, Bronson ambled up to them in a brown tweed suit, motioning for them to follow him over to a table, on which he had placed the breadknife and covered it with a protective layer to stop any further contamination.
"Definitely the weapon," Bronson said, -as though there had been any doubt in the finding of a bloodied bread-knife clumsily hidden at the crime scene- before continuing. "We dusted for prints, and we found some, but there's no match in our files; you say you've had a confession?"
Gene nodded. "'is old Missus."
Bronson rolled his eyes, "there's a surprise," he muttered sarcastically. Gene nodded curtly, while Alex remained silent, arms crossed over her chest as Bronson went on. "If you can get her prints over here, we'll have a clearer idea of whether it was her or not, and then we can-"
Alex handed over a fingerprint swab with a satisfied smirk at the look of surprise, and, dare she think it, respect, on Gene's face. "There; it's got every finger. How long will it take?"
Bronson blinked, and then shrugged, "we'll have it back by tomorrow at the latest I expect..."
Alex nodded, just as Gene spoke up. "What about the stiff?" he asked, nodding over towards the covered corpse, "Anythin' more?"
With a sigh, Bronson led them over to the body-slab, drawing down the white blanket covering Jeremy McKellen's once-handsome, now pale and sickly, face. "There's strong bruising on the back of the scalp, presumably from hitting his head on the floor when he fell... recently had sex, hadn't eaten much that day... cuts to the stomach, shoulder, wrist, forearm and below the left rib... died from loss of blood. There's slight bruising around the neck area, too, quite recent- but could have been at least an hour or two before the death..."
At this, Alex heard Gene breathe a sigh of relief, and bit her lip at the memory of Gene lifting Jeremy off the floor by the scruff of his shirt. Covering her mouth, she looked at Gene, who looked reasonably sombre as Bronson continued.
"...and other than that there's nothing that you didn't see for yourself at the crime scene; Lots of cuts, varying depth, same weapon for each one... some used a different side of the blade but they all match up... and once we get them fingerprints back, you'll probably be able to cuff 'em and stuff 'em in a day without trouble... providing there's a match of course."
Gene nodded. "Right... Good... C'mon, Bols, nothin' new 'ere; let's go." He swept from the room, hands in his pockets, and Alex followed obediently with a polite nod at Bronson, who didn't seem at all put out by their sudden departure, settling back to his desk and searching through a file.
---
Turning on her in the Quattro, he met her eyes, arm resting on the steering wheel as he muttered, "you might be right... about the statements, I mean... 'cause that wouldn' 'ave looked good, would it, if they were big bruises?"
Alex blinked, torn between shock and understanding at his worry. "You'll give a statement?"
Gene nodded, face grim. "I nearly got banged up for murder once before Bols, an' I don't fancy that 'appening by mistake again, ok?"
Alex nodded. "Ok... Let's go back then," she reached for her seatbelt, clipping it in and looking at him expectantly. Gene snorted, rolling his eyes at her obsessive personal safety.
"You really do act like a bloody nun, you know? You don' need a bloody seat belt- 'ave you ever seen me crash this car, Bolly?" His voice was teasing, but Alex shrugged, wriggling in her seat to get comfortable and looking at him, her belt remaining safely across her chest.
"It's the passenger in the car that gets thrown through the window pane, Gene; I'd rather stay safe." With a smirk, she raised a hand and indicated towards the road. "Shall we?"
His eyes trailed over her critically before he nodded, slowly, replying softly, "yeah... best to keep your arse safe in that seat, I s'pose... means I can give it a good squeeze later." With a lecherous grin, he swerved the car out of its parking spot, heading back towards the station.
---
Having both handed in their statements – with Alex relentlessly picking details from Gene so that there was no question as to his actions and intentions– and delivered them to Superintendent Harrison, Gene and Alex were cleared for working the case, and spent the rest of the afternoon chasing after petty thieves and a particularly nasty mugger. At six, they headed for Luigi's, settling themselves into their customary table and ordering a bottle of house red.
"You still reckon she did it?" Gene asked, thoughtfully swilling the wine in his glass as he questioned her.
"Yes," she said softly. After a brief pause, she whispered, "do you?"
He nodded slowly. "Yeah..."
Alex bit her lip before asking, "do you think she killed Rosa, too?"
Gene shook his head. "No. And neither do you." He glared at her pointedly across the table before settling in to enjoy his drink.
And there the conversation ended, with both of them draining their glasses and reaching for a top-up, without the exchange of words, silent in their companionship until the last dregs had trickled down their throats and Alex was smiling meekly across at him. "I suppose it's time for bed..." a brief pause, and then, in a quieter tone, "I'll see you upstairs?"
Gene glanced at her and nodded imperceptibly, muttering "ten minutes" under his breath before saying, at a more normal volume, "night Bols."
She smiled, waved goodbye to the rest of the team, and left. Gene joined Ray for a whiskey, excusing himself after ten minutes and heading out the front exit, driving the Quattro round the corner before slipping back through the side door and sneaking up to Alex's flat, grinning to himself at the now familiar sense of mischief and teenage daring that came every time he evaded the rest of the team's scrutiny.
He let himself in without hesitance and joined her on the sofa with easy familiarity.
---
Settling down, they both recognized the sudden difference that had crept up on them throughout that day, through the simple placement of hands.
It wasn't like they hadn't done this before; by now, slipping onto the sofa and adopting a comfortable horizontal position in which Gene allowed Alex's head to rest calmly on his chest was the norm, but now it was different; there was a line that had been crossed and both of them reacted to it with surprising normality.
When Gene had loosened his tie on other nights, Alex had resolutely avoided the bare flesh that peeked out at the open shirt collar, resolving to place her hands only gently on his side, with the thin cotton of his shirt acting like a barrier between whatever stages in their relationship they had been trying to avoid and were yet to overcome; after their kiss that afternoon, she found it only natural to open one extra button on his shirt and slip her hand beneath the fabric to rest against the heat of his own skin and the gentle thud of his heartbeat.
When Alex had slipped between his legs and into the crook of his arm in the past, Gene had kept his hand firmly between the two areas' he had considered off-limits in such an intimate, private moment; her arse, and her bra strap. Tonight, at the same moment her hand moved to rest above his heart, his own hand strayed to the curve of her arse, resting their lightly, fingers dancing and tracing patterns in the denim of her jeans, whilst the other traced the outline of her bra with unerring ease and confidence.
The television was on, but although both of them were facing it, none of the images were really making any impact as they lay there in silence, hands acting as silent ambassadors of speech, clearly stating, in ways that words would never achieve nor compare to, that they were long past the days of a simple colleague relationship, past the days of friendship and the nights of needy comfort... because as their hands wandered, they both understood, they both knew that their kiss had broken down barriers, and that now they stood on foreign soil, faced with the dawning realisation that this was not a hurt and comfort relationship; they needed each other, and were there for each other, yes, but through that, they had come together as something deeper and more meaningful than either could really begin to comprehend...
A loud noise from the TV startled them both from the private reveries of thought, Alex jerking sharply against Gene, who hit his head hard on the arm of the sofa, releasing a string of obscenities and bringing the hand previously resting on her back to gingerly touch the stinging red lump at the back of his head.
"Bugger!" he groaned; "this bloody sofas as hard as a priest's old ding-a-ling!"
Alex laughed softly, settling back into place but keeping her gaze fixed on him, their eyes meeting as a smile tugged at her lips. "Surely not, Gene; they abstain!" Her voice was mocking and full of amusement and he groaned again, grabbing a cushion from the floor and placing it under his head before speaking, arms slipping around her once more.
"Exactly, Bols; abstain for long enough an' the old todger gets more'n a little perky."
Snorting, Alex repeated, "Perky?"
Gene glowered at her. "Yes, perky."
"I see... and in your opinion, Gene, what else happens to be... perky?" The accentuation of the word made him gulp, but his eye contact didn't falter as he pulled her further up towards him, bringing her hips closer to his, breath hot on her skin as he murmured his reply.
"Lots of things Bols..." he told her quietly, hand moving to caress her cheek with a tenderness that sent shivers down her spine and sent her stomach into conniptions of joy... "Modern art... the Eiffel tower... Mount Everest... nipples..." At the last his eyes glinted wickedly, his hand sliding down to tease the curve of her breast and travelling further south to rest at her waist, mouth twitching into a grin as she bit her lip. All the time, Alex never allowed her eyes to drift away from his, despite the feeling in her stomach that told her, quite clearly, that if she kept staring much longer she was going to melt under his heated gaze...
"Nipples?" She repeated in a slightly squeaky voice, her throat dry with nerves.
Gene nodded, trailing his hand back up to her face and gently stroking the soft flesh of her cheek, "mmm..." he murmured in soft assent. "Yeah... nipples..." he waggled an eyebrow, "are they perky, Bols?"
Alex shifted closer, her gaze flickering from his lips to his eyes as she murmured suggestively, "why don't you take a look yourself?"
Gene's smile flickered away, replaced with a seriousness that made Alex's stomach flip all over again as his mouth moved slowly closer to hers... "I will, Bols," he murmured, "very... very... soon..." He paused with his mouth a mere centimetre from hers, his eyes half-closed. "You gunna kiss me, fizzy-fanny?"
Alex smiled, half closing her eyes as she whispered, "Fizzy-fanny? That's a new one... you're usually very knicker-centric..."
"Mmm..." he nodded, licking his lips subconsciously, "thought it was about time I got you out of 'em..."
She laughed. "Maybe you're right..." she whispered, and closed the gap between their mouths without another moment's hesitation.
---
His hands slid to her arse again, gripping her with both hands and pulling her tight on top of him as her mouth pressed against his, lips caressing and teasing as his body began to respond to the sheer closeness of her, the willingness of her kiss and the glorious promise of finally getting his hands on those bloody gorgeous tits. He opened his mouth slightly, flicking his tongue against her soft lips in a silent plea, a tender request for welcome and acceptance... She responded, parting her lips and allowing his tongue to slowly invade her mouth, twisting and caressing her own as one of his hands slid beneath the fabric of her blouse, seeking out the soft skin of her back, the smooth flesh that tapered up towards that, until-recently, forbidden plane of skin that still remained covered from him by a delicate scrap of fabric.
Alex slipped one hand into Gene's hair, the other working slowly at the buttons of his shirt, popping each one with deliberate lack of haste, eyes closed and allowing their tongues to explore and to taste, to memorise each nook and cavern of their mouths. After several minutes of slow kissing, Alex had undone half of his shirt, abandoning the rest for the sake of slipping her hands beneath its soft fabric, gently tracing the contours of his chest; the flat of his sternum, the soft of his belly, the tender skin at his collarbone that she found caused him to groan into her mouth when she trailed her fingertips across it...
She pressed closer to him, her breasts crushed against his chest whilst her hips ground gently against his, breathing heavy as his fingers slipped beneath the lacy fabric of her strap and made quick work of it, the hooks quickly removed from one another, leaving him separated from his goal only by cotton and lace. His other hand massaged her arse as he rolled her to the side, pressing her into the back of the sofa whilst their mouths proceeded to devour one another with hunger, passion ruling their actions now as Gene began to unfasten the buttons on her blouse, desperate in his quest to uncover what had been, for so long, kept from him, forbidden, illicit...
Pulling away briefly, he tugged the half-unbuttoned blouse up and over her head, quickly discarding it and dropping it over the side of the sofa, returning his mouth to hers for a moment whilst his hands slipped her bra from her arms, dropping it aside carelessly and slipping his lips down over her cheek, her neck, her collarbone, one hand firmly caressing her behind whilst the other moved to cup her now free right breast, a groan escaping his lips as he came into contact with the hard nub of her nipple.
"Feels pretty damn perky t'me, Bolly," he murmured against her lips, shifting down the sofa slowly, mouth pressing soft, chaste kisses to every inch of skin in his path, tongue flicking across her, tasting the saltiness of her flesh before moving to cover her other breast, eyes half-lidded as his brain filled with lustful thoughts and dreams that he had long since tried and failed to displace. His lips encircled her taut nipple, whilst Alex's fingers tangled in his hair, her breathy moans a symphony of beauty to his ears as he sucked and licked at her, his hands massaging and caressing her into shaken pleas of "more... more..."
The bulge in his trousers was pressing against his zipper to the point of pain, and the more he tried to ignore it, to treasure this first sight of her body, the more insistent it became, causing him to dig his nails briefly into Alex's flesh to prevent losing all control. The fact of the matter was, he'd wanted her since the moment he'd laid eye on her, and now here she was, bare-breasted and panting beneath his mouth and hands, and he couldn't contain the excitement and illicit anticipation that rose in his chest, tightening with every second she writhed under his mouth, squeezing at the touch of her hands tangling themselves tightly in his hair, gripping harder when a flick of his tongue was particularly well received, or a brush of his fingers sent particularly delightful shivers down her spine...
After gently grazing her sensitive nipple with his teeth, he pulled away, both hands sliding to her waist as he kissed his way slowly and gently down her stomach, tongue flitting out to tease her belly-button, a grin breaking out on his face as she gasped, writhing slightly, responding to him by sliding one hand down his neck and beneath his shirt, caressing his skin whilst he continued downwards, lips stilling at the waistband of her jeans, scattering kisses along her front as his hands moved to her button, unfastening it quickly and allowing his fingers to tease the zip down, revealing the pale blue of her lacy underwear, listening to her breath hitching as he blew lightly across it in the silence of the room, the quiver and shake of her voice causing him to grip her tightly once again... Alex was gasping and shifting against him, the heat between her legs multiplying until she felt alight with lust, blazing passion and need consuming her; she wanted everything.
Gene was lifting her hips slightly, sliding the jeans down her body to reveal the tops of her creamy thighs, just as the phone rang out. He looked up with a face of thunder, moving up her body to snatch the phone from its cradle, half-amused as he noted Alex's complete befuddlement, before he snapped "Hunt!" into the phone, trying to shift his hips slightly so that the insistent bulge in his trousers didn't press into Alex's stomach.
There was a brief pause, before Viv replied, in stark disbelief, "Guv? Err...Where's DI Drake?"
Gene looked down at her, bare-chested beneath him with her lips swollen and chest heaving... "Err... she's 'aving a ki-... He wanted to say 'kip', but for some reason, telling his staff that their DCI was round the house when his DI was asleep sounded far too taboo a subject, and would only result in rumours that neither of them wanted to deal with right now. "A piss..." he went on, "she's 'aving a piss," he finished talking just as Alex seemed to snap out of her hazy reverie, lifting her fingers to trace the back of his neck whilst her mouth assaulted his chest and collarbone, nipping and licking across his skin whilst he tried to maintain concentration on the words passing almost un-heard through his ears.
"Oh..." Viv sounded uncomfortable and then said, "right... well we need you and her to get down 'ere as quick as possible...Amanda McKellen says she wants to talk to you both tonight, and she's been yelling for the best part of two hours; driving everyone else nuts."
Gene looked pointedly down at the bulge in his trousers, narrowing his eyes, "yeah, an' my nuts are goin' blue," he muttered quietly, just as Alex slid her hand down to flit across his trousers, a devious grin on her face as he gripped her tighter with one arm, pressing his hips firmly down into her now as he attempted to keep her still, an odd whinny of frustration leaving his throat unbidden.
"Sorry, Guv, what was that last bit?" Viv asked, covering up a yawn at the other end.
Gene breathed, attempting to banish the urge to throw the phone away and simply continue with his exploration of Alex's knickers. "Forget it Skipper; I'll tell DI Posh-knickers to get a move on." He glared down at her warningly, and she responded by reaching up to press an open-mouthed kiss to his cheek, tongue flicking out against his stubble and causing flames of lust to spark into life, licking up his whole body against his will.
"Right you are, Guv," Viv said, and hung up, trying to block out the sound of the throaty growl that emanated from Gene's throat.
The second the line had gone dead, Gene groaned, dropping his head to Alex's neck and muttering in her ear; "Amanda McKellen wants a word..." His breath was heavy as he added, "and I need to go an' pull on me todger if we're ever gunna get outta here..."
Alex bit her lip, looking at him coyly before speaking, a smile on her lips, "I could pull on it for you?"
He met her eyes, feeling his resolve falter, but managing to shake his head; they'd never leave if he let her get started, and they both knew it. "Can't, Bols," he said, disappointment evident as he began dislocating himself from their tangle of limbs, grinning down at her as she lay there, completely unashamedly, with her jeans halfway down her thighs and blouse thrown carelessly to the other side of the room.
"Put yer tits away," he said, buttoning up his shirt, "you'll give Skip a heart attack; don' think he's sniffed a woman in months." As he headed for the bathroom, Alex's voice sounded behind him.
"Gene?"
"Yes Bols," he said, turning to look at her.
Alex grinned, "who's as hard as a priest now?"
---
Much evilness from Mage hehehe!
Hope you enjoyed this- let me know :)
Mage of the Heart