Thank you, reviewers! This chapter is a little short but when you get to the end, hopefully you'll see why I chose to end it there. There's a Life on Mars reference here- the first of a few- but it shouldn't spoil it for anyone who's yet to watch that episode.

Marta

Gene eyed Alex critically as she checked her lipstick in her compact mirror. It didn't really matter that she had done this before, that the very first time he had met her, she was dressed as a prostitute, working undercover. He hadn't known her then, hadn't cared about her then. He did know her now and didn't like Ray's plan one little bit.

Alex shut her mirror and looked at Gene unsmilingly. She wouldn't admit it to him but in truth, she was scared. She didn't know how to act or how far she was prepared to go for the information. Ray had told her about the swingers party in Manchester but Alex was stilled worried.

Still, it wasn't as though she'd be unprotected. She wasn't able to wear a wire but Gene had managed to search Bryson's flat a second time and bug it. They weren't very good- not by her modern standards anyway- but they were better than nothing. Chris would be in the van, listening to the bugs and Gene and Ray would be lurking outside the flat, ready to burst in when she had a confession.

"You don't have to do anything you don't want to, Bolls," Gene said quietly.

"I know," said Alex. Gene talking like this was making her more nervous not less.

"Code word is Hari. I hear that and I break down the door faster than the French in a white flag factory."

Gene and Ray slinked a little way down the corridor and Alex rapped smartly on Bryson's door.

XXX

"The thing you should know about me Alex," said Bryson, tucking Alex's hair behind her ear, "is that I'm not like other clients."

"Oh?" said Alex breathlessly. She had been relieved of her fur coat and was sitting next to Bryson on his huge bed. She had been taken aback to find that Bryson was extremely good-looking, dark hair and eyes contrasting with beautiful light skin. As he kissed her neck and cheek, she could feel his eyelashes against her skin.

"It's not all about me. I like the prostitute to have a little pleasure too…"

It didn't take long for Alex to find out what he meant. Her dress was off, streaming along the floor and his hands and lips were all over her body, which was trembling. She forgot that she wasn't there to enjoy herself, that she had a job to do. The fingers that were caressing her so exquisitely could belong to a murderer, a man willing to kill her. She didn't care, she could barely remember her own name.

As she lay back with Bryson on her, a name was ripped from her lips as a whisper.

"Gene…"