Hello strangers! I'm so sorry about the lack of updates recently. a-levels are rather life ruining aren't they? I hope this is okay, as it's slightly different from my usual style, if any of it doesn't make sense then let me know, ff is giving me a different word count to microsoft :L anyway, on with the story- would love to hear what you all think xxxx

You didn't hear her. Again. She screamed and bawled and shouted but you didn't listen. She must have chased you a good quarter mile before you stopped. Barefoot, and bloody drowning in the pissin' rain. At least she was sleeping now, your coat pressed up to her nose. You were glad there was a part of you with her tonight. The things she told you didn't bear thinking of. One's thing for certain, she'd never be without you again...

"Gene...Gene...GENE!"

At first you thought it was the wind, or your mind playing tricks on you again. She wasn't the only one having bad dreams. The third one was the one that made you turn though. There was nothing in the sharp, piercing, scream of your name that wasn't totally real; and wasn't totally her. God. She looked worse than before- apparently that was humanly possible. Her fringe was plastered to her head in unruly twig-like strands. Her perfect face was peppered with mud. Her ruddy ankles were bleeding too.

The funny thing was, is that, for once you were both speechless. You'd planned over and over what you'd say to her. Hell, you'd written a friggin' monologue. From the look on her face so had she.

You wanted to laugh. You didn't.

You stepped forward. She stepped back.

"Yer ruddy ankles are bleedin' woman"

She looked down and let out a strangled "oh"

"C'mere. Quattro's just around the corner"

"No. I don't want to."

"I don't give a shit whether you want to or not. You're bleeding and I'm bloody well gonna sort you out.

She said nothing. That somehow made it worse.

It suddenly occurred to you how ridiculous you must look. In the middle of London. in the rain. Drenched. Bet she's frozen.

"Put this on and don't argue" you say, handing her your coat.

To your surprise, she did as she was told. You thought you'd be pleased. You weren't. You wanted her to be back the way she was: fierce; ballsy...wonderful. But you had fucked that up. You. And only you could fix it.

Your coat drowned her frail form, more so than the rain, that much was obvious. Her arms wound a protective shield around the 31 week bump that she was so scared of. That you were so scared of.

You could tell she felt at home in your arms. The way she wordlessly put her head in your neck, and clung onto you like a child would its mother. She hadn't changed perfumes, you could tell that much.

It felt weird to see her in the back of the quattro. Normally she was at your side. Normally she matched you stride by stride. Your equal. Now you had to protect her, protect them. At this moment, the Graves case didn't matter. Ray didn't matter. Chris didn't matter. Shaz didn't matter. And bloody Keats... He was long gone. Everything was her from now on.

Faint sniffles were coming from the back seat. The first noise since she'd screamed your name. "Not long now Bolly" you said, trying to lighten the mood. It worked. Sort of.

'Not long now' was the hard part. They were about eight seconds from her flat...but they were also about eight weeks 'til their son was born. They'd both be parents. He'd be a dad.

Perhaps it was the Bolly part that made the corners of her mouth twitch. He hadn't used that in a while and she probably hadn't heard it in just as long. He'd stopped calling it her at home when they were together. It didn't feel right. Bolly was a detective. She knew the ropes. She wore tarty clothes and had a head full of brains. Alex wasn't like that. She was classy; she was funny; caring, kind and oh so beautiful. She loved and was loved in return. She was perfect. And right now, he'd sell his soul to get that back.

He carried her to the flat as if she were the crown jewels. She didn't push him away like he thought she would. Merely sniffled and waited patiently to be sat down. She'd left the front door unlocked. Bloody fruitcake.

An angry whisper broke the silence of the flat 'I don't need your help.' It was bland and straight to the point, but he was having none of it.

'Shut it and do as your told' aggression had worked in the past, he needed her wound up to remind himself that the spark was still there, no matter how faint.

'Do as I'm told? How dare you. You swan in here after seven months of nothing, and just expect everything to go back the way it was? Hey, why don't we go to bed together to really seal the deal eyy? Eyy Gene?'

He thought she wanted a response. He thought wrong.

'No don't you even think about speaking I'm not done yet. Who is the one that had to buy everything for our son? Your son Gene. Who's the one that's carried him for seven months and looks like a bloody beached whale? Me. Who's the one that can't even go on fucking maternity leave because I can hardly support myself never mind two of us. And who's the one that has to put up with a dickhead boss and his dickehead team, and can't even bloody communicate with her old team because they all think she's a slut!"

Her face was blue with the effort of it all, her breathing erratic, eyes wide. Her shivering made him feel even more like a bastard. But he couldn't let her win, not when there were two sides of this story...

'Yeah Bolls? An' what about me eh? How am I supposed to feel when rumours a bouncing of the bleedin' walls left righ' an' centre? I was scared to death of us as it was an' then all this about me not being able to trust you comes out. An' it made me think of how I was 'oldin' yer back Bolls. You could go far without me, professionally an' personally. Me, I'm just a washed out old flatfoot 'ho's overstayed 'is welcome on the beat. You could go right to the top and marry any bloke you fancied. What the fuck were you doing messing around with me eh?!'

She slapped him then. A full grown whack. He almost smiled. She was back.

'The hell you thought that. All you wanted was a shag. Wish you'd told me earlier and I wouldn't've gone to all the effort of trying to impress you. Why couldn't you get it in your head that I loved YOU Gene. I wanted to be with YOU. If I'd wanted a thatcherite wanker, I'd've gone back to that red braced twat but Gene. I needed you. The one time I needed you and you weren't there.'

'Well I'm here now aren't I?' It was a stupid excuse, and she really wasn't in the mood for playing games.

'Oh and that makes it all okay now doesn't it 'sorry Alex I'm just off for a bit, I'll come back for the birth though; maybe I'll surprise you again and bugger off another time just like all the other men in your life', what the bloody hell are you grinning at?'

'You're still there.'

'Pardon?'

'You're still my Alex.'

'Your Alex? Ppft. I'm my Alex, not yours nor anyone else's.'

'Okay then Bolls'

'What's that supposed to mean?'

'Nothing...nothing, nothing at all'

An uncomfortable pause lingered around the pair. He broke it with a sign. She broke it with a sniff.

'Right' they said in unison

'I'm running a bath. You know where the door is'

'Fuck off.'

'Excuse me?'

'It's simple Bolls. Fuck. Off'

She waddled her way to the bathroom at quite a speed given her thirty-one week bump, but he beat her to it easily.

'You are not going anywhere til we've sorted this out.'

'Excuse me? Who are you to tell me what to do I'm not your slave now fucking let me past!'

A pause lingered in the dingy flat. He broke it with a smile.

'What now?'

'You're back.'

'I'm what?'

'You're back Bolls. You're alive you're properly alive'

'And you call me the fruitcake' she replied, finally sitting down.

He looked around the flat awkwardly, not really sure about his next move. If he sat down beside her, she'd only shun him away. If he left then his second chance would well and truly be over. If he made her a drink he'd only fuck that up- were pregnant women supposed to drink coffee? Maybe the smell would make her sick or...

'Gene for got sake sit down, you're making the place look untidy'

"At least there's some sense in this room" he though to himself as he obeyed her. He quickly removed his feet from the coffee table though, after receiving one of her glares. After a few minutes of anticipation, she gave him his ultimatum:

'You've got two minutes to convince me to take you back, and I'll listen. Then it's my decision whether to have you in my sons life, I'm in control'

"This is your chance Gene...take it while you can"