I don't own Ashes to Ashes

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Fifteen minutes later they were entering Amanda McKellen's cell, both of them looking flushed, their clothes slightly messed as a result of hurrying away from the flat. Gene's shirt was crumpled and he'd left his tie on the sofa, keeping the top two buttons open so as not to look overly formal, though in Alex's opinion it practically screamed 'I was about to shag my DI!'

When Viv saw them, he averted his eyes from the glower Gene sent in his direction, pointing them towards the cell with his gaze on the floor. Alex blushed and headed in, whilst Gene kept his eyes fixed on Viv's head, even as they entered the cell.

When they shut the door behind them, they found Amanda curled up in a ball, her body wracked with tearless sobs as she rested her head against the cold concrete of her prison. As they entered, she looked up, her face red and puffy from crying, though it was evident that she had long since exhausted her tear ducts; the tracks on her face had since dried, leaving her eyes simply glistening in the dim light that flickered out of the faulty electric bulb above their heads.

"You came!" She whispered, and shakily extended her legs, staggering towards them on weak limbs, practically falling into Alex as she lifted a hand to her face, shaking and sobbing, head moving from side to side as she gasped in a throaty voice, eyes wide as she stroked her fingers across Alex's cheek. "I didn't mean to do it!" she told her, "I didn't mean to... but you came! You're here! You'll understand – I know you'll understand why I did it! I didn't want to but... but I had to!" As she spoke, she nodded continually, her face split in a crazed smile.

Alex stood frozen, glancing quickly to the side where Gene was staring at the two of them, eyebrows flying up into his floppy hair. At her look, which was slightly panicked and more than a little uncomfortable, Gene shook his head and pulled Amanda away from Alex, grimacing as her hands fastened around his biceps and she began repeating her apologies with her head turned towards him, that same manic expression bright in her eyes before he set her down on the bunk and stepped away, pushing her forcefully backwards the one time she attempted to cling onto him.

"Sit yerself down, love, an' then you can tell us why you called me out 'ere in the dead o' night when I was about to get thoroughly seen to!" With a pointed glare, he crossed his arms and leant against the opposing wall, casting a brief glance to Alex and indicating that she should join him, before turning his eyes back to Amanda, taking her appearance in with disgust.

Her blonde hair was in disarray, sticking out in impressive peaks and looking as though it hadn't been washed or brushed in days. Her light blue blouse was dotted with small yellow flowers, but against her chest there was a deep red stain that spread out from her heart and faded out... Amanda caught the two of them looking and sobbed. "It's his..." she sobbed. "I didn't mean to do it... he just made me so angry! Please – I can't go to jail! I can't! I'll die in there! I can't do it!"

"Should've thought about that before you clocked the bugger one then you daft plonk!" Gene growled, now reaching into his pocket to retrieve a cigarette and a light, never wavering in his eye contact. Amanda sobbed, turning her gaze to Alex.

"Please... you understand, don't you? Have you got children?" Her eyes were full of desperation, and Alex was nodding before Gene had the chance to open his mouth. With a sigh, he rested his head back on the wall, blowing smoke upwards, wondering briefly why all women with children felt as though they should clasp hands and sing ring-a-ring-a-roses together; after all, all men had a penis, but you wouldn't have caught him running up to a male copper and claiming this as a reasonable excuse for murder...

"Then you understand!" Amanda said desperately, looking at Alex with a strange sense of neediness. "If their father said all those things – all those terrible things he said to you about my Rosa – what would you have done?" Her voice was cracking and splintering with emotion and Alex blinked away tears.

"I'd have been upset." She admitted, "Heartbroken, probably... but I would never have been able to kill him..."

Amanda shook her head fiercely. "No... No, you don't understand- I'm not a killer! Look at me! I'm not a murderer! I'm not!" She looked from one to the other in loss and desperation, then sobbed, settling her gaze solely on Alex; "you could never understand how it felt until you were there... I didn't want to do it- I loved him! But it just happened so fast... I couldn't help it!"

There was a glint in Amanda's eyes that caused Alex to shiver, and Gene glanced at her instantly, eyes full of concern even though he made no attempt to move towards her.

"It just... I felt so powerful!" Amanda's voice was full of wonder, of amazement, an almost lusting caress lilting through her words as she sat there, staring at her hands now, clenching her fingers as though remembering the feel of the blade in their grasp... "It was like being God," she told them softly, "like I was all-powerful... it's been so long since I was in control of anything..." she looked stunned and non-plussed, and Alex's stomach churned, vomit rising in her throat at the loving note that resonated in Amanda's voice. "I'd kill anyone for my Rosa," she whispered, fingers flexing, her body quaking as she went into renewed sobs. "She was perfect!" She looked up at Alex again, manic and crazed as she whispered, "wouldn't you kill for your baby, Inspector?"

"That's enough." Gene growled, feeling Alex tense with anger and grief at his side. "You better start talking now 'cause I ain't sticking around to hear about your love-affair with the breadknife! What's so urgent you kick up a fit in the middle of the night?"

Amanda looked from one to the other in evident confusion, "I already said..." she answered softly, "I need you to make sure I don't go to prison!"

There was a long silence, and then suddenly Gene snorted in derision, whilst Alex continued to stare in disbelief. "Think you came to the wrong people, love," Gene said. "We bang murderers up; we don't send 'em 'ome with a warm blanket and a cuppa!"

"But I didn't mean to do it!" Amanda whispered, "you understand that, don't you? I didn't want to kill him and... And I can't go to prison! I just can't!"

"You're going." Gene said bluntly, staring at the bloodied blouse briefly before he began to walk across the room, ignoring her protests and briefly brushing Alex's arm before he walked across the room and hammered hard on the door. "Skipper! Get in here and bag up this tarts blouse as evidence, you useless prat! We're coming out!"

---

They sat in his office, Alex perched on the edge of the desk while Gene reclined in his comfortable leather chair, a cigarette smoking between his lips as he looked at her. After minutes of silence, he spoke up, voice surprisingly gentle. "What you thinkin', Bolly?"

Alex sighed, leaning back on her hands and looking towards the ceiling. "I don't know..." she paused, bit her lip, and then whispered softly, "she won't survive a week in prison, Gene, let alone a life sentence..."

He nodded sourly, eyes fixed on his leather shoes as he exhaled. "I know, Bols... but I ain't letting a murdering bitch loose on my patch just because she's too poncy for jail!"

Alex sighed. She didn't expect him to say anything different, really, but it didn't sit right with her conscience to send a grieving mother to prison...

"She got inside your 'ead didn't she?" Gene said softly, seeing the pain in her eyes, watching the lines of her face tightening in a grimace.

"She was just angry, Gene..." Alex replied, voice gentle and reeking of pain and hurt. "I... I can't imagine what she must have been feeling, hearing him say those things..."

Rolling his eyes, Gene muttered, "he left her eleven years ago Bols; she'd probably heard it all before and-"

"But she had Rosa before," Alex answered quickly, "Someone to protect, someone to look after... and now she hasn't anymore..." She could hear the desperate argument rising in her voice, feel tears pricking at her eyes and pain clenching her stomach... And then Gene was out of his chair, standing in front of her with her face between his hands, looking at her with tenderness and worry etched into each line on his face, each fleck of colour in his eyes filled with concern...

"You're making excuses for her, Bolly," he whispered, a tender caress of his fingertips swiping over her cheeks as his breath teasingly wafted into her nostrils. "She's a mother and you reckon she's all good beneath it all because of it... but we ain't here to decide who's good and who's not- we're here to put murdering scum safely behind bars and stop 'em killin' again..." His thumb traced across her cheekbone again gently enough to betray the gruffness of his tone, his eyes boring into hers with desperation as he went on. "Just 'cause she's a mother doesn't mean she can't be guilty..." He tangled his fingers briefly in her hair, caressing her scalp with their tips as he murmured, "you've done this a thousand times Bols... don't let her kid you into thinking she's different..."

"But she is, Gene," Alex whispered helplessly, raising her fingers to trace his arm lightly. "She is..."

His face moved closer, so that their noses were nearly touching as he growled, "she's scum Bols. Just like every other bastard criminal we lock up day-in and day-out... she's a murdering bitch! Just 'cause she pushed a little toe-rag out of 'er fanny seventeen years ago doesn't mean she's the bloody Angel Gabriel!" He tilted her face up to his with surprising force when she moved to answer back, "and don't you dare try and convince me it's what any mother would've done!" he growled. "Because I know me old Mam, and she'd sooner kick me up the arse with a spiked boot and a smokin' gun than kill anyone! And I know you, and I bloody hope I'm right in thinking you'd stick on the right side of the law!"

Alex stared at him, and then suddenly she began to sob, grasping at him desperately as she fell forwards against his chest, her body surrendering the last reserves of energy as she wept into his shirt. Gene cringed, nervously and tentatively wrapping his arms around her as he wondered what the hell he was meant to do; it was Alex, not him, that was good with all that 'talking to people' bollucks, and at the moment, it didn't look like Alex was capable of putting together two syllables, let alone forming a whole sentence... so he didn't know what to do... talking was out of the question...

As was kissing her...

As was pushing her down onto his desk and finishing off what they'd started barely an hour and a half ago from the comfort of her sofa...

So he did the same thing he'd done the first night she'd called for his help; he held her. He held her like she was the most precious thing in the world, his arms acting as a shelter from the horrors that haunted her mind, enveloping her in his hold with his lips pressed tenderly to her forehead, hands tracing patterns in her back. "You're alright, Bolly," he told her quietly. "You're ok..."

She clung to him tighter, tears leaving a warm patch on his shirt before she eventually lifted her head to look at him, eyes wide and bright as she whispered, "I want to go home..."

Gene visibly flinched, pain shooting through him like electricity; home. Home, to Molly... Home, to wherever it was she came from... Home, to the daughter she hadn't seen in over a year, and to whatever colleagues and friends she'd left behind... home... away from him...

With a sigh, he gulped, pulled her closer again, and turning his head away to resist the temptation of smelling her hair... "I don't know 'ow to get you 'ome, Bols," he whispered. "I'm sorry..."

She lifted her head again, drawing back from the comfort of his hold to look at him, confusion evident in her gaze as she whispered, "carry me?" Gene blinked. Alex's hand squeezed slightly on his shoulder as she continued, "I just want to go to sleep, Gene... please?"

He nodded, attempting to hide the overwhelming relief swirling in the pit of his stomach that said she wasn't leaving, and battling the urge to kiss away the fear and uncertainty that rose in her voice. "Yeah... ok... c'mon..."

In a slow, tender movement, he had slipped his arm under her knees, the other around her back as he lifted her up, cradling her against his chest and standing stock still for a brief moment as she slid her arms around his neck, head resting beneath his chin as she sighed softly, breath teasing over his skin before he lifted her up, softly drawing her closer to his chest as he carried her out of the office, squeezing the two of them through the door before carrying her out into the street. Her whole body was limp and weak, and as he held her, he realized for the first time how thin she was, how slight her frame had become in recent weeks... It wasn't dangerous, but it was noticeable, and something in the pallor of her skin was missing; the glow he had adored from a distance was slowly fading as the traumas of the case took their toll, and he vowed in that moment that, until her skin was flush and bright again, he wouldn't leave her side.

---

Gene had to set her down at the entrance to her flat, not trusting himself to search through her pockets for the keys without dropping her to the floor. Alex fumbled with her keychain, opening the door and reaching for Gene's hand as she led him in, drawing him into the kitchen where she poured them both an overly-generous half-glass of whiskey, throwing hers down her throat in two large gulps. Gene blinked, sipping at his own whilst his eyes assessed her quietly, taking in the puffiness of her eyes, the narrow set of her mouth, and realizing that whatever hopes he might have had for that evening before they returned to the station were dashed... and though he was slightly disappointed, he was surprised to find that he didn't mind, and that he was willing to wait as long as she needed to feel comfortable with the idea...

"C'mon, Bols," he murmured, draining his glass and setting it down on the kitchen unit, "let's get you to bed." As the glass clinked to the surface, he stretched out a hand, watching with a strange, foreign warmth in his stomach as she slipped her fingers into his. With a gentle tug, he led her towards the bedroom, turning to her at the foot of the bed and tracing his fingers lightly down her neck.

"Better now?" He asked quietly, voice soft, though the traditional gruffness of his tone remained.

Alex, in answer, cupped his cheek softly, eyes fixed on his as she whispered, "not quite," and leant forwards to capture his lips briefly with her own. Gene's arm slid around her waist, pulling her close as her tongue softly intertwined with his, her gentle hand still tenderly caressing his cheek as his eyes fluttered closed in blissful enjoyment. A few moments later, he pulled back from her, placing a gentle peck to the corner of her lips before resting their foreheads together.

"Now?"

Alex nodded, hand tracing down the length of his arm before twisting her fingers around his. "Much better," she answered, smiling slightly before pulling away, moving to the wardrobe and rifling through for something to sleep in.

"Have you seen any of my t-shirts?" she asked, turning to Gene expectantly. Gene raised an eyebrow, arms crossed as he sat on the bottom of her bed, shaking his head from side to side repeatedly. Alex swore. Laughing, Gene began to unbutton his own shirt, grinning as she continued to throw clothes aside in her drawer, tossing out blouses and summer dresses and underwear whilst he watched, mouth fixed in an amused smirk. When she eventually pulled out a hideous yellow blouse decorated with large and horrific daisies that, by the look on her face, she couldn't remember or understand buying, Gene took pity on her, shrugging out of his own shirt and walking up behind her.

His hand lightly touched to her waist and she shot up, gasping and spinning around so fast she nearly lost her balance. Her hand fell on his chest, breath short as she realized just how close together they were, eyes trailing over his torso appreciatively as he grinned, pulling her close.

"If you so much as think of wearing that poncy blouse to bed I'll be forced to rip it off you, and since neither of us is really in the right state of mind for that anymore..." he held up his own shirt and raised an eyebrow at her, "this do?"

Alex looked from his face to the offered shirt several times before she nodded, hesitantly taking it from his fingers and smiling nervously. Gene nodded in reply, eyes fixing on hers once more before he leant in to brush their lips together, and then walked off into the bathroom.

---

Having brushed his teeth and smoked one final cigarette, Gene re-entered the bedroom, finding Alex just beginning to button up his shirt, revealing, to his great delight, that she had opted to sleep without a bra, the curve of her breast painstakingly obvious as she deftly worked the buttons with her fingers. Stifling a groan, Gene approached her from behind, sliding a hand around her waist as his lips fell to her neck, eyes open as he watched her fingers tremble and quiver whilst she attempted to continue buttoning up his shirt. He grinned into her skin, gently nibbling as he reached around to help her, his fingers replacing hers with ease and confidence, quickly slipping buttons into holes until the shirt was pleasantly secured around her, but remained low cut enough for him to see an ample amount of cleavage. His fingers lingered behind, resting on the button between her breasts, debating briefly whether it would be too forward to undo the button in question before pulling his hand away. A moment later he was kissing his way up her neck and over her jaw, pressing his lips lightly to the soft skin that for so long had been untouchable, revelling in the newfound ability to touch her as he pleased...

"Better get some kip," he murmured softly, lips never leaving her skin as his arm slipped around her waist, pulling her back into his chest and savouring the unmistakeable and irrepressible scent of his own aftershave mixing with the soft smell of her skin... With one last, lingering kiss to her pulse, he turned her around, smirking in self-assured smugness at the breathless look on her face. "C'mon," he murmured, "gotta work tomorrow an' I ain't letting you waltz in late."

With a playful shove, she fell back on the duvet, laughing as she reached for him and tugged him down next to her, wrapping her arms around his neck as he fell to her side, a rare smile dawning on his mouth as he looked down at her, eyes full of laughter, his fingers trailing over her leg softly, in a tender caress that was neither heated nor lustful, but that still managed to turn her stomach into a molten pool of desire.

"Gene..." she whispered, reaching out to stroke his cheek, caressing the slight growth of stubble that scattered across his skin as she looked him in the eye. "Do you think she loved him?"

Gene shifted uncomfortably, averting his gaze as he muttered, "I dunno, Bols... maybe."

She sat up slightly, propping herself on her elbows as she spoke again, bringing her face within an inch of his as she murmured, "could you kill someone you loved?"

He flinched, closing his eyes briefly before whispering, "I couldn't kill anyone, Bolly... not like that."

Her hand slid across his chest as she spoke again, fingers tracing lines in the warm skin that covered his racing heart, "so you wouldn't... you couldn't kill someone... not even if it... if it was like with Rosa? If... if they wanted to die?" She sought his eyes with her own, but when she found them they were hard and serious, his hand moving to grip her chin as he looked into her face with such intensity that she shivered.

"I wouldn't kill anyone." He repeated, keeping his voice dangerously low.

Alex gulped, tracing his lips with her thumb and staring at them in a mixture of nervousness and transfixion, "what if... if their lives were miserable, and if they couldn't be happy in this world... could you kill them then?"

"No." He answered, hand still holding her chin. "I couldn't. Now stop."

He let go, rolling to the side and staring at the ceiling as he listened to the hitch of her breath, the sharp intake of air before she whispered, "what if it was me?"

He closed his eyes, feeling an unnerving wave of nausea sweep over him before he turned back to her, resting his forehead against Alex's as he inhaled the floral scent of her, treasured the feel of her beneath his fingertips... When their eyes locked again he spoke, voice gravelly and full of emotion she would not have expected, nor knew how to comprehend.

"No Bolly..." he whispered, "especially not if it was you." There was a moment where they simply stared, Alex biting her lip whilst Gene swallowed down a wave of emotion he had never before realized existed... it was full of such complexities he wasn't sure what exactly to define it as, but in that moment he considered that, if ever he had to be without Alex, his life wouldn't be worth living.

Alex ran her finger down the bridge of his nose, breath warm on his face as she whispered, "why not?"

He didn't even hesitate in his reply, looking her deep in the eye as he growled, "Because I need you 'ere... with me. An' you ain't going anywhere without my bloody say so!" Without thought or consideration, he pressed his mouth to hers in a fierce, possessive kiss that knocked the breath from her lungs. When they pulled apart, Gene grasped her face tight in his hands, eyes locked on hers.

"What about you, Bolly? Could you kill me?" His breathing was ragged, his heart pounding, and all he could feel was the gut-wrenching pain in his stomach that her words had brought about; whatever she meant, and whether she was serious or not, he was bloody terrified of losing her, and the idea of her wanting to leave made him sick inside.

Hazel eyes bore into his blue, and for a moment, she contemplated it; if this man came to her, begging for release from whatever eternal pain he had, could she provide?

If she didn't do it, could she watch him suffer for years because the law said it wasn't 'right? Could she watch him deteriorate like that, until he was barely a shell of his former self?

No, she couldn't... not in good conscience...

But then if she were to do it, could she ignore the fact her heart had come to beat every second for him? Could she live with the knowledge of taking the life of the man she'd come to trust above all others, to treasure and cherish and completely rely on? Could she exist in this strange world without him, Gene, the constant thread of support and protection that kept her together?

And the answer was no; she would rather die herself.

"No Gene," she whispered honestly, "I couldn't kill you... but I wouldn't be able to watch you live like that..."

He tilted his head to the side and brushed his lips to her cheek. "I wouldn' ask you to, Bolly," he answered sincerely, before granting her a languid, tender kiss on the mouth that was as much a melding of hearts as it was a melding of mouths. When eventually they separated, Gene rolled onto his back, pulling Alex into the crook of his arm and sighing as she gently kissed his chest, beneath which his heart pounded as he had never known, each beat a silent reverence to the woman whose hand now intertwined with his.

As the silence stretched on, and the clock on the bedside table ticked in the still-lit room, Alex spoke, her voice soft and gentle, a balm to the worry and fear that had stayed clenched in his stomach throughout their conversation. "As long as I'm with you Gene, I'll never have to ask..." her mouth traced his collarbone as she whispered. "I'm safe with you..."

Gene tightened his hold on her and nodded. "Yeah, Bols," he murmured, "me too."

----

She didn't know what brought it on; initially she had just thought it speculation, curbing her interest to see just how deep the hidden man before her really was... And then she found herself considering it, thinking about ways to get back to Molly, to see her precious daughter; if she died in this strange, paradoxical universe, then surely she would find herself home, with Molly, and Evan, and a chocolate birthday cake that was just waiting to have the candles blown out... But she wasn't dying, was she? She was in the prime of health in 1982, whatever her 2008 self was suffering through, and she didn't have it in her to turn a weapon on herself... So maybe Rosa had it right, she thought, in asking Benji to help her escape her eternal prison... Was it so wrong for her to want a better life, an escape from pain and misery with nothing to look forward to but that final day of judgement where she might find peace at last?

But she had seen Benji's face; she'd seen his torment, his horror, his distress at not being able to follow through with Rosa's requests, and the idea of putting anyone in that position was enough to cause bile to rise at the back of her throat... And who would she ask? The only man she knew well enough to request anything from was the one person that kept her tied to this existence, kept her here, permanently grounded and with support she could never have dreamed of... Gene Hunt's presence in her 1982 world was enough to make her question whatever beliefs she had entered into on her arrival; if Gene Hunt was really a figment, then why did he evoke feelings in her that she hadn't known since Peter? And if he really was just an imaginary construct, then how was it that he had such a complex persona, a past of pain and hurt; why would she imagine that, in a man she found herself falling for a little more each day? Was it that past that endeared him to her? And if so, was her subconscious simply looking for ways to ensnare her in this fantasy world?

Lying there, watching his peacefully sleeping face in the still-lit room, she realized it didn't matter; because even if she never knew whether he was just an imagined fabrication from the dark recesses of her mind, or if the beating heart she could swear she felt pounding was really there, to her he would always be reality, he would always hold in his hand the heart she had once sworn never to give away again... and whether she woke up from 1982 and returned to 2008 or not, there would never be another man that compared to Gene Hunt, real or otherwise... And if he was really a fabrication, she could quite easily live this dream-life out to the end, just as long as he remained by her side all the way.

Speaking to the quiet of the night, eyes fixed on Gene's sleeping face, she whispered, "I won't go anywhere without you, Gene." And with a soft, lingering kiss to his temple, she laid down to sleep, head resting on his chest, the reassuring thump of Gene Hunts heartbeat echoing through her mind like a soothing rhythm... and as she listened, her eyes closed and breathing shallow, she realized that she had never felt more alive.

----

Yeah, yeah, I know, there's no smut... but it's soon, I promise :-)

Mage of the Heart