A huge thanks once again to everybody who's read, reviewed, favourited etc etc. It puts a smile on my face, which is never a bad thing!

A Bird in the Hand

Chapter 3

Several hours later and they were still in the same pub they'd found just down the road from the hotel, an old-fashioned boozer called Parkers, which at best Alex would have described as having a certain provincial charm, at worst as being a little on the rough side. This was only emphasised by the disgusted stares from the locals as they walked in, one elderly membeof the clientele curling his mouth into a snarl and putting his fingers into his mouth, retrieving his upper set of dentures and proceeding to clean it with an old handkerchief as he tutted and shook his head irreverently, muttering something to his equally disdainful friend about 'all fur coat and no knickers'. Following Gene to the bar she realised this was about as far away from her 2008 existence as was humanly possible, a stab of homesickness hitting her in the pit of her stomach. Here al fresco dining was eating your fish and chips with the paper open whilst you walked home from work. Here was the last place she wanted to be.

'What you drinking Bolly? Wine'll taste like vinegar, but it'll do the trick...'

'Vodka... Double.' Gene raised his eyebrows and pouted as he looked at her. Perhaps I'm not the only one having a crap day.

'Blimey! Starting as we mean to go on are we?' Alex didn't seem to hear him and began to speak distractedly, seemingly on auto-pilot.

'I'll find us somewhere to sit.'

Gene watched as she found a table in a dark corner of the pub, pulled out the stool and sat down, staring thoughtfully out the window. Something was wrong. She was too quiet. He never thought the day would come when he wished she was screaming her head off at him, all flushed cheeks, tight lips – face like thunder, but here it was.

'What can I get yer mate?'

Breathing in deeply he turned back to the bar and ordered the drinks.

After 2 bottles of wine and the odd shot of vodka Alex no longer seemed to care about her surroundings, as she leant over the bar twisting one of her curls round her finger and chatted animatedly to the barman, a muscular, chisel-jawed ash blonde in his late twenties, who appeared to be demonstrating the length of something with his hands causing her to lift her eyebrows in a look of surprise and giggle infectiously.

The frown that Gene had had across his face ever since his DI had gone to the bar 15 minutes earlier had now developed into an out-and-out scowl as he observed her flirting with 'the brain-dead prick' behind the bar. Sat in this dingy corner and nursing the dregs of his pint he imagined he looked like a middle-aged has-been. Old, and worse still, pathetic. All in stark contrast to her: beautiful, self-assured, gorgeous, intelligent and very sexy. An image of her dressed in the fur coat, red dress and suspenders flashed before his eyes causing his cock to twitch involuntarily in his trousers. Leaning back in his seat he threw his head back and wished to God she didn't have this power over him. Of all the patches in all the world she had to come and park her bony arse in his and then proceed to waggle it in his face, with absolutely no hope of him ever getting his hands on it. Whenever he was around her he nearly always felt inadequate, generally angry, but unmistakeably horny too. Quite frankly he'd never come across a woman who was so draining and yet exhilarating all at the same time. Now she was blatantly advertising her availability to every other bloke on the planet, probably just to piss him off. Probably. He watched grumpily as Alex took a pen from the barman and wrote something on a beer mat she'd found on the bar, handing it over to him as he grinned like a Cheshire cat. Bile rose from the pit of Gene's stomach and his mouth opened before he could stop it.

'Drake I know 'ow much you love gettin' yer tits out for all and sundry, but I'd quite like me pint before it goes flat!'

His DI noted the venom in his voice, rolled her eyes and mouthed an apology to the attractive blonde behind the bar before picking up her glass of wine along with Gene's pint and sashaying back over to the corner where her boss sat, trying her hardest not to betray the fact that she could feel the room spinning slightly.

'Here. Happy now?' Alex slammed the drink in front of him, sloshing some of the contents on the table before sitting down on the stool opposite him.

'Oh ecstatic! Can't you flamin' tell?'

'Miserable bastard...' she muttered slurring her words slightly and taking a healthy swig of her white wine.

'I could be hundreds of miles south of here cracking some nonce's skull, but instead I have to watch you draping yourself over some tyke twat.' Hunt leaned in for emphasis. 'So excuse me if I'm not a ray of sodding sunshine DI Drake, but this is not my idea of a good time!' His index finger pressing down on the table as he spat out each word.

There was a long pause as they avoided eye contact and focused on the bottom of their glasses, silently draining the contents. Finally placing her wine carefully on a mat Alex broke the silence.

'You're jealous.'

'I am not!' His response was a little too swift. A little too insistent.

'Bollocks! You've done nothing, but stare at my backside and give the barman daggers ever since I went to buy the drinks...' As she spoke Gene noticed the fiery glint in her eye. She was baiting him. Still he wasn't going to let her get away with talking to him like that.

'For you information love, I couldn't give that thick twat's left arse cheek if you want to flash your jugs and dole your number out to every bloke you pass in the street...'

'Who says I gave him my number?' She asked cocking her eyebrow.

'I'm not bloody blind! I saw you writing your number down on a beer mat...'

'Like I said who says I gave him my number?' Gene screwed his face up in bafflement. 'Let's just say Ray's going to get an interesting phone call when Dennis over there finishes his shift tonight' she whispered. His eyes lighting up it suddenly dawned on him what she'd done.

'You didn't?'

'I did', she admitted rather guiltily. 'He's lovely, but I just wasn't that impressed with him going on about his odd shaped balls.' Gene nearly choked on a mouthful of his beer.

'You shouldn't mock the afflicted Bolly. 'Ave mumps when he was a kid did he?'

'He collects rugby memorabilia Gene...'

'Hmmm', Hunt muttered unconvincingly grabbing the packet of cigs off the table, pulling his lighter out of his pocket and sparking up, soon subconsciously turning his head slightly and blowing out a puff of smoke to the side. Alex didn't like it.

'I mean he's gorgeous, polite and has a backside you could bounce a 10 pence piece off, but he's just not my type.'

'Right', Gene offered nervously drumming the tips of his fingernails on the table and resting his head thoughtfully in the palm of his other hand, fag still hanging from his lips.

'Right!' Alex repeated a little too overenthusiastically as she avoided his gaze and drained some more from her glass.

'So what is your type then Lady Bolls?' The moment the question left his lips he instantly regretted it. Their relationship wasn't exactly the most professional he'd ever had with one of his DI's, but he didn't want to face the wrath she was most definitely capable of after asking her such a personal question. Shit! To his surprise she didn't slap him across the face, she actually seemed to be considering what he'd asked.

'What if?...' She appeared to be hesitating, her hands fidgeting as she stared down at her nails and inspected them thoughtfully.

'What if what?'

'What if I'm looking at him, right now?' She lifted her head nervously and looked him square in the eyes, searching for something in his. For a few seconds everything and everybody else seemed to melt away. No more chit-chat or clinking of glasses. It was just them, nobody else. Finally Gene dropped his eyes.

'We've been here before Bolls. We've both knocked back more than our fair share of booze and I don't take advantage of birds who can't walk in a straight line for all the Pinot Grigio they've poured down their necks...' Liar, Gene thought to himself, most of the birds I've shagged could barely see straight, let alone walk straight.

'What if this bird's big enough and ugly enough to not mind being taken advantage of?' There was a slight pensive pause. 'What if I'm the one who wants to take advantage?' Gene gulped loudly.

'Alex I really think you're about to say something you'll regret...' He offered quietly as he stubbed his cigarette out in the glass ashtray in front of him.

'What? Because I don't see the problem with two grown-ups in a strange city spending the night together? For God's sake Gene I'm not asking you to marry me, I'm asking you to...' Alex didn't see the point in finishing her sentence. By the look on Gene's face she knew he understood what she wanted loud and clear. Again there was a pause, which only served to crank up her agitation.

'Well?'

'Leeds in't that strange Bolls. I mean s'not Manchester, but it ain't Timbuktu is it?'

The moment he said it he wanted to claw the words back, insert them back in his mouth and swallow them, but it was too late. A flash of disappointment followed almost immediately by anger flew across Alex's face, as she picked her glass up, drank the remnants of the liquid in it and slammed it back down on the table.

'Fine!' she hissed getting up and bending down towards him so she was a matter of inches from her DCI's face. 'I try to have a serious conversation with you and you end up taking the piss as usual.'

Drawing herself back up to her full height she spat out a goodbye and went to turn away from him when he grabbed her wrist firmly and drew her back towards him.

'Where are you goin'?'

'I, Gene, am going to find someone who has the balls to screw me senseless! Is that alright with you?' Eyes wide she was glaring at him, daring him to say something. 'Eh? Is it?'

Taken aback his response stuck in his throat, whilst Alex took the opportunity to prise his fingers off her and make a hasty but unsteady exit, crashing unceremoniously through the pub doors and onto the bustling street outside. Whether it was shock, the alcohol or a heady mixture of the two Gene felt like he was frozen to the spot as seconds ticked by.

Still there, as if he'd taken root, the elderly patron turned once again to his friend and muttered under his breath.

'Told yer she were all fur coat and no knickers, din't I?'

'Aye!' the man next to him answered, slowly pressing his tankard to his lips and nodding almost in slow motion as he absent-mindedly scratched his chest through his jumper.

The conversation at the bar snapping him back to his senses, before he knew it the DCI was shrugging his jacket over his shoulders and heading towards the exit himself, reaching it and spinning round to regard the two men at the bar.

'And you two can just piss off!' Gene growled and then burst through the doors, ignoring the feint Yorkshire twang behind him calling him a 'Manc bastard'. Sod them! They weren't his priority, she was.

Looking first to his left and then to his right down the crowded pavement he eventually spotted her zig-zagging slightly a couple of hundred yards in front of him. Picking up his pace he easily caught her and placed his hand on her shoulder spinning her round.

'What do you want?'

Her jaw was set in exactly the same way it was when he'd asked her if she was going to 'punch him or kiss him' on that first day. Even now with a face like a slapped arse and eyes glassed over like an old lush she was still breathtakingly beautiful. Gene nearly laughed out loud, but stifled it knowing it would only add fuel to the fire.

'Alex...'

'What Gene?'

She was still angry but now there was a note of desperation in her voice, which didn't go unnoticed by the man stood in front of her who briefly turned away and sniffed, suddenly acutely aware of the people bustling by them in the dusk of the Spring evening as opened his lips to speak.

'Your room or mine?'

Minutes later they were walking down the fifth floor corridor of the hotel, Gene's arm snaked possessively around her waist, but neither of them daring to look at the other in case it sparked a change of direction for the evening. When they finally stood outside his room he broke the contact and reached for the key from his trouser pocket, putting it tentatively in the lock, Alex noting that his hand was shaking slightly in the process. Letting her step over the threshold first, he then followed closing the door behind him and resting against it, folding his arms and breathing in deeply through his nose. He was nervous. Really nervous. In fact he concluded that he hadn't been this jittery since he'd heard the first chimes of 'Here Comes the Bride' when he stood ashen-faced at the altar. With his head tilted back slightly he took in the sight of the woman stood before him. Right now she looked like the sexiest thing he'd ever seen but he had to ask.

'Changed your mind?' Her head cocked slightly to the side she shook it slowly, her gaze fixed on him.

'No. Have you?' He shook his head in return, his grey-blue eyes still locked with hers searching for some sign of uncertainty. He couldn't do this if she wasn't sure. Despite his best efforts not to he cared too much to let this happen if they weren't on the same page.

Within seconds she'd closed the gap and was on him. Her hands raking through his hair as she kissed him fiercely, biting his lower lip and forcing her tongue into his mouth, causing him to moan as he snaked his hands down her body and onto her arse. And then just as abruptly as it began Alex pulled away and took a step back, leaving Gene with a puzzled look on his face.

'What now?' he asked breathlessly. With one side of her mouth curled up into a coy grin, she dropped down onto her knees and began to massage his length through the front of his trousers, all while the not breaking eye contact with him.

'This...'

'I don't know about you Bolls, but I'm gettin' a serious case of déjà vu right now?'

Alex could hear the tension in his voice and observed his long fingers flexing against the wood of the door. Memories of her on her knees in front of him, whilst wearing the red dress and fur coat coursed through her mind, compelling a smile to trip across her lips. Back then a repeat performance under these circumstances would have been unthinkable.

'That's French Gene' she commented chirpily as she diverted one hand up to his belt, undoing the buckle and slipping it out of the loops before throwing it nonchalantly over her shoulder and turning her attentions to his button and fly.

'And so's what you're about to do...' the DCI grunted, a hint of impatience seeping into his demeanour as she lowered his trousers tantalisingly slowly down over his hips, past his knees, finally allowing them to pool at his feet.

'I think you'll find its Italian actually, Signior Hunt...' Eyes closed Gene could hear the cockiness in her tone as she resumed delicately stroking him through his cotton boxers, her feather-light touch no longer nearly enough. God she's impossible!

'As much as I love hearing you wittering on Little Miss Fussy Knickers...' He paused briefly as she hooked her fingers in the waistband of his boxers and brought them down to where his trousers lay. 'Right now I can think of a much better use for that pretty little mouth of yours, swee...'

Before he could finish off the word, he felt her grip his cock firmly. A little too firmly. His eyes darted downwards only to be met with a challenging look.

'Now's not really the time to piss me off is it?' Glancing to where her hand was and back up to her face again within a split second, he realised she wasn't joking and gulped audibly.

'Point taken.'

Loosening her grip Alex began to rake her hand up the length of him, twisting her wrist slightly as she reached the tip and wet her lips.

Profuse apologies for leaving it there guys. Rest assured there is more smut to come... At least we can take a good guess at how Gene's boxers ended up on the door handle now... Every cloud... :D