I don't own Ashes to Ashes
Huge thanks to all of the reviews so far :-)
Glad you're still enjoying it! Hope the chapters alright...
Sorry about the angst.
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Alex wasn't surprised to find herself there; she'd known since coming back that it was bound to happen sooner or later, that she'd make to leave from work and find herself heading familiarly across the street to the now all too familiar restaurant...
Only it wasn't a restaurant anymore, and she hadn't left work to visit it. She'd been waiting for three weeks for this very moment, and Evan had finally consented to drop her off on his way to work, on the strict understanding that if anything were to happen – even if she were to feel so little as a twinge in her skull – she would ring him immediately and consent to be taken to the hospital without debate. Having given him her most sincere vow, and promising numerous times that she wouldn't stray too far from familiar territory, Evan had dropped her off at the end of the road, with only a single warning that he had already told Malcowitz and the others not to let her work, and to ring him if she so much as stepped into the office.
She half smiled to herself, wryly glancing back at the modern building with a sigh; it wasn't the 'work' she was used to anymore, so he really had nothing to worry about – although that wasn't for him to know. There was certainly no danger that she'd run in and demand to be put on a case – she'd likely forget herself in the heat of the moment and, in the absence of more intimidating colleagues such as Ray, probably revert uncharacteristically to the old-fashioned, somewhat more violent policing style, before getting done for GBH and being claimed unfit for work, anyway.
With a sigh, she stepped into the road, crossing swiftly, ignoring the fact that the name across the door was not 'Luigi's', but instead 'Allie's Cafe', before descending the familiar stairs into the basement-styled restaurant.
---
She emerged in a room filled with scrubbed tables, checked table cloths, and a small serving counter, at which stood a rounded man with black hair, who wore a small apron over his considerable girth as he tapped his chubby fingers on the wood. Alex approached the counter nervously, glancing towards the wooden door just at the back of the restaurant and feeling her stomach twist and throat constrict at the realisation that, above this very cafe, her old flat would still exist... Heart in her chest, she ordered a coffee and a chocolate cookie, her eyes darting habitually towards the door and feeling an inexplicable pull, wanting nothing more than to race up the stairs and burst into the small living space which had once been her home, just for the rock solid confirmation that it had not in fact all been a dream.
"Here you are, love," the man said, interrupting her thoughts by handing her two pounds of change and a plastic tray, on top of which rested her drink and biscuit. "Watch the coffee – it's a bit hot!"
With a smile, Alex nodded her thanks, heading over to the corner table without really thinking, and instantly feeling a horrible wave of mixed loss and longing. Blinking back tears, she took a large gulp of her drink, hoping to disguise her tears as a reaction to the scalding liquid; it worked enough that the man at the counter did not question it, but the tears continued to stream down her cheeks for several more minutes than was necessary before she had managed to tidy herself up.
She drank the coffee slowly, half-heartedly picking chocolate chips from the cookie and allowing them to melt in her mouth as the sound of Italian music seemed to break through the ether, rising above the modern Sugababes song belting from the radio and lulling her into a familiar state of relaxation as the decor seemed to change before her eyes; the salt and pepper shakers littering the tables seemed to change into flowers and candlesticks, and the man at the counter seemed to become shorter, more like Luigi, and then the empty room filled with familiar voices of people who had come to be so important to her, raucous laughter cutting through and warming her heart... And Gene's face swam before her eyes, and an ache rose in her chest at the memory of his familiarly wry smile, his glinting blue eyes and a number of memorable flirtatious glances down her blouse as he sat directly across from where she was now...
She blinked further tears away, swiping at them with the back of her hand and throwing the cooling coffee down her throat in a bid for distraction. The man at the counter caught her eye as he moved towards the familiar door at the back of the room, pushing it open and moving quickly and purposefully into the hall, as though he'd heard something that Alex hadn't. The door stayed ajar, and Alex stared at it almost wistfully for several seconds, remembering more than one occasion on which she had left through that very door with Gene at her heel, the familiarity of it causing her eyes to blur over with tears before she took a deep breath of air to steady herself.
A moment later, there was a swish of black fabric around the door, a flash of grey-blonde hair, a haze of smoke, and a gruff voice which berated the order to stub out the offending cigarette with a string of angered obscenities.
She was out of her seat barely a second later, pushing through the door and following the tall, black-coated figure into the street with her heart in her chest.
---
She couldn't believe it was him; for a few moments, she convinced herself that it was her imagination, that the bullet that had penetrated her skull almost two months ago was causing her to hallucinate, that she should call Evan immediately and demand that he take her to the hospital... But then he'd finished his cigarette, dropping it on the floor and grinding it out with a familiarly styled pair of boots, before rounding the corner and stepping towards an old, battered car that would once have been his pride and joy; the red paint was dull, the registration paint spattered with mud, and the four black rings that decorated the side were chipped and incomplete. He clambered in with the look of a man fighting the irreversible aging effects of time, his long limbs seeming to bend tentatively as he slid into the driver's seat and inserted the key in the ignition.
Stood at a distance, Alex watched as he turned once, twice, three times.... the engine sputtered, died once, and then sputtered once again as his long-fingered hand patted the dashboard encouragingly. Finally, it started up, chugging unhealthily as his familiar, yet more aged face split into a small smile and his lips mouthed silent words that fell upon her ears with more noise than a whole orchestra; "you beauty!" He said it to himself, but she could practically hear the same words echoing back through the years, could feel the grin tugging at her lips as she imagined the whooping of Ray and Chris, the jovial teasing and joking as they sped down familiar side roads and back alleys... She blinked in time enough to see him rest his arm along the back of the passenger seat – her seat, she thought with a pang – and reversed, the engine loud and clattering as he pulled away.
It took her only a few moments of wistful longing before she flagged down a nearby taxi, ignoring the drivers' protests that he was on lunch as she threw fifty pounds onto the front seat and demanded that he drive her as fast as possible.
"Just follow that car!" She said, eyeing the retreating vehicle with worry creasing her eyebrows. "Don't lose sight of it!"
"Which car?" The driver said angrily, spitting gum out of the window in annoyance and missing her frantic pointing.
"That one!" She shrieked, pointing again and shaking her hand for emphasis. "The red one!"
"That BMW, y'mean?" He asked, pointed at a bright, gleaming Z4 parked at the side of the road.
"No!" Alex snapped, slamming her hand on the back of the seat. "That Audi!"
"''ey?" The driver looked blank, and Alex hissed her annoyance.
"That red, sputtering, foggy, old one!" she snapped, jabbing her finger in it's direction.
The driver frowned, then nodded, stepping on the pedal and pulling out before speaking; "That ain't red, love... maybe it was once, but it looks more like a giant stinking turd now!"
----
She froze in her seat as the driver pulled up outside the hospital, watching in surprise and horror as Gene climbed out of the Quattro and walked towards the door with a slight spring in his step, for the entire world looking like a man who knew exactly where he was headed, as if he had done it many times before.
Alex was out of the car a moment later, thoughts failing her as she followed him with a churning stomach and a whirring brain, wondering if he would see her, if he'd remember her... The colours of the cars parked nearby seemed dull and lifeless in her peripheral vision as she walked, her pace quick, her eyes focused solely on the familiar hulking figure, the worn jacket and the now greying hair... She longed for him to turn around, to recognise her and take her in his arms and tell her it had all been real, that it would all be ok... but then he turned right, quelling the small chance that he might see her in the glass door of the corridor as he followed a sterile white corridor down, nodding to a nurse in passing and moving on deliberately, before he turned easily into one room and closed the door behind him.
Alex stopped in her tracks as the door closed in his wake, her heart hammering loudly in her ears as she glanced edgily around her, making sure that the nurse they had passed was well out of sight before daring to edge closer, to peer through the small glass window; her mouth dried up instantly at the sight.
Gene had shrugged off his jacket, draping it over the nearby chair without care before drawing it to the side of the bed, sinking into the cushion almost gratefully. His head was turned slightly away, but she was certain she saw the slight twitch of his lips as he settled himself more comfortably.
Alex's attention, however, was drawn away from his face, to the familiar form of his body, tears stinging at her eyes as she saw the unmistakeable signs of malnutrition, his clothes hanging from him as though they were two sizes too large. There were large bags under his eyes, she noticed, bruised almost purple, as though they had become a permanent aspect of his visage in the years that had passed since she had last seen him. His cheeks were sallow, his skin pale, and though his hair was still thick, it looked somehow lank, as though it's presence on his scalp had gone unnoticed for a long period of time. His long-fingered hands looked bonier than she remembered – still elegant, still beautiful, but nevertheless more withered – as they reached out for the hand of the person before him, closing softly around the other as he edged closer...
Lifting her eyes, Alex looked at the lady in the bed, and, for a small moment, she felt a slight wave of jealousy, because, glancing between this unknown lady and Gene, there was no mistaking the adoration or devotion that shone in his gaze. His thumb stroked across the woman's wrist, looking soothing and tentative, and Alex bit her lip slightly, before lifting her gaze to the sleeping woman's face.
There was something familiar about her, she thought, but she couldn't quite place it. There was a shock of grey hair upon the scalp, fanning out around her head, but looking lifeless and uncared for as it did so – not unclean, she thought, but simply deemed unimportant. The cheekbones were high, accentuating the fact that there was not enough skin on her cheeks as it stretched taut across her face. The eyebrows were arched, the lips full, but the face was wrinkled with age that seemed unbefitting, although it was impossible to tell how old the woman was supposed to be.
Gene's hands enclosed the smaller one between both of his, his lips moving silently as he stared at the sleeping face; it took only a moment before it hit her suddenly, and with it came a warmth which enclosed the fingers of her left hand, causing her spine to tingle with unexplained anticipation.
She fell away from the door in shock, covering her mouth with her hand as she attempted to regulate her breathing, tears spilling from her eyes in both horror and grief as she fell back against the opposite wall, unable to hear Gene's voice, but feeling a small sensation of tickling up her right forearm, as though someone were tracing their finger delicately and tenderly over her skin. She looked down at it, half expecting to see his hand covering hers, but there was nothing; with a heavy, ragged breath, she peered through the window once again, in time to see Gene's mouth moving slowly, softly, and not enough that she could read any of his words by sight. With a wrench in her chest, she watched as he sat there, talking quietly, almost seamlessly, more than she could ever remember him doing in the past... And she found, in some strange, inexplicable way, that she enjoyed it.
The time seemed to pass easily, though for how long she stood there Alex didn't know; every now and then a nurse would pass by, eyeing her with curiosity, but resolutely saying nothing. Alex herself did nothing but watch and think, her heart and mind whirring and pounding at a pace that she was unaccustomed to as the weight of meaning pressed down upon her shoulders.
First, there was the rock-solid confirmation that it had all happened, that she had lived in the eighties and met Gene Hunt in real life, that everything that she had thought to be a dream had been real, that the people she had met, the emotions she had felt and the words she had said had all been realities... She had seen the file, had read that he was alive and had retired after ten years of bitter, lonely policing without his DI, but somehow this was worse; the sight of him, old, worn and completely ridden with guilt, was worse than any file. Seeing him ripped from his former brilliance and reduced to this wreck of a man caused her physical, unspeakable pain.
Second was the shame; the horror at her new appearance dawned rapidly at her sadness at his, disgust clawing at the pit of her stomach like a crazed animal. The Alex from the eighties had been attractive- she'd known it, and she'd felt it; she'd been vibrant, colourful, stylish, sexy... Whatever memories she had had of that time were filled with self-appreciation, whether or not she had wanted to admit it to herself or not. The Alex whose hand Gene now held was ugly, old, and bore no resemblance whatsoever to the woman she could believe he might possibly be attracted to...
And then third there came the heart-stopping, tear-jerking realisation that whatever confusion and uncertainty there had been between herself and her DCI, there was more than just friendship in his intentions; it was odd, what sitting on the other side of a door could do for your perception, she considered – because when she'd been looking straight into Gene's sparkling blue eyes, she'd never noticed the warmth, the devotion, the painful, heart breaking look that said he needed her... And now, sat on the wrong side of the door, with no way of returning the sentiment, it all seemed so clear and obvious that she wondered at her own stupidity; not for the first time since waking up, she thought she felt her heart break.
---
She didn't know how long she stood there, tears streaming endlessly and silently down her face; all she knew was that one moment she was stood in the corridor, watching Gene press his lips softly and uncharacteristically to the other Alex's forehead, and the next moment she was frozen in place as she watched him standing up, his coat slung back around his shoulders as he headed towards the door.
The moment the door opened, she leapt away, instantly hiding her face and cursing herself as she sniffed against her tears. Though her eyes were averted, she saw him stop, saw the familiar, though now considerably more lined face crease into concern as he stepped towards her.
"Y'alright love?" He asked, and though his voice was more aged and worn, laden with tar and the unmistakeable throatiness of chain-smoking, Alex's heart ached with bitter longing at the familiar gruffness, the unchanged accent - even after twenty-six years living and working in London, he remained the Manc lion, through and through.
Without thinking, she lifted her head towards him, meeting his familiar blue eyes with a lurch in her chest, her mouth dry and her tongue peeking out to wet her lips as she did so.
They'd lost their glimmer, she noticed instantly, a wave of sadness rolling over her. Where once there had been humour and teasing in the blue depths, he seemed constricted by guilt and sadness, and the once sparkling blue eyes seemed dull and lifeless... And yet, despite herself, she still felt comforted by the gorgeous blue irises and the layers of meaning that they concealed.
"I'm- I'm fine," she fumbled weakly, swiping at her eyes and hoping against hope that her mascara hadn't run enough to be noticeable.
Gene went to nod, as though about to leave, but a second later his forehead had crinkled, his eyes narrowing as they scanned repeatedly over her face and hair. "Do I-?"
Before she could stop herself - before she could consider that there was no logic to her actions, no explanation that he could possibly accept - she threw herself forward, her arms around his neck as she clung hopelessly to him, feeling his older, now slightly more fragile form, and yet taking huge comfort in the smell of spice and soap that drifted into her nostrils, in the warmth of his body and the rough fabric of his coat beneath her fingers. "I'm so happy to see you," she whispered, tears tracking onto his coat as she attempted to ingrain every aspect of him into her memory before he disappeared.
Gene seemed frozen to the spot for several seconds, and she could imagine the look of bewildered disbelief that would plague his lips as he glanced around nervously for a distraction, as his hands cupped her arms and drew her away gently. Looking up, Alex saw that his eyebrows had knitted together, and his face was full of both confusion and sadness. "Sorry, love," he murmured, still eyeing her features with scrutiny, "think you've got the wrong bloke..."
Alex bit her lip, fresh tears brimming and lip trembling as she nodded jerkily in response, trying to displace the renewed feeling of loss and separation at the knowledge that he couldn't recognise her, didn't know her any better than he would know a stranger in the street. "I'm sorry," she whispered softly, wiping at her eyes and pulling away with an effort. "You look like someone I-"
"Yeah," Gene murmured, nodding slowly, eyes never pausing in their assessment of her features. "You too, love..."
At that moment, a nurse rounded the corner, and Alex found an excuse to turn her eyes away from his familiar searching gaze, catching the young lady by the arm as she started to speak, whilst attempting to keep her voice calm and disguise the hysteria threatening to rise up in her throat. "I'm sorry to disturb you," she said quickly, "I was here the other week, and I just wondered if you'd found-?"
"A wallet was it?" The nurse asked, glancing over Alex's face briefly before smiling warmly. "Of course, it's behind the desk – why don't you come with me?" She indicated down the corridor with her hand, and Gene seemed to embrace the opportunity to leave with open arms, walking down the corridor with large strides, although Alex thought she saw him glancing back surreptitiously at her in her peripheral vision. The nurse's voice interrupted the consideration, and Alex turned her attention back straight away. "It's Miss Drake, isn't it?"
With a gulp, Alex nodded, following the nurse and biting her lip once again as she felt Gene's eyes snap back immediately to look at her, boring into her skull as though they were attempting to burn a hole through the bone and see right into her mind...
"Yes," Alex murmured weakly, still nodding. She kept walking, until she drew level with Gene and realised that he had frozen in the corridor, his gaze still fixated upon her face as though he were stuck in his place. With trembling hands clenched together, Alex looked up to meet his eyes, seeing the confusion and pain that riddled his eyes as he seemed to peer into her very being in a way that she felt no other man ever would, or could.
"Bolly?" Gene whispered, taking a small step forward, his voice cracked and hurt. His hand was slightly raised, as though intending to take hold of hers, and he took a second step forwards as he spoke again. "Is that-?"
"It's Molly," Alex fumbled as quickly as she could, trying to control the exhilaration and adrenaline that pounded through her veins as she reached towards him, extending her hand. "I'm- I'm Molly..."
Gene eyed her carefully, his gaze mistrusting, the hand that had been reaching out to her freezing in mid-air. His eyes dropped to her hand briefly, as though attempting to work out whether it was a danger or not, before reaching out to shake it with hesitance as his gaze returned to her face.
Silently, Alex treasured the touch of his skin against hers, feeling warm tingles shiver through her whole body, struggling to disguise them as she squeezed against his warm, wrinkled hand with a tenderness that seemed to surprise him. His eyes never left her face, and for a few moments, he seemed lost in his own thoughts, before suddenly he spoke, breaking through Alex's reverie as he did so.
"You're her daughter?" He asked, his voice dry and disbelieving. Alex nodded after barely a moments thought; though it hurt her not to tell him the truth as his eyes seemed to beg for some sort of confirmation, she knew that he would be no more able to comprehend the truth now than he would have done then, even with the confusion of her familiar face... He seemed to fumble slightly as he went on, his words tripping slowly from his lips as he attempted to get his mouth around them, his eyes sad as he spoke. "She- I mean, you look like her..."
Alex contained a smile and nodded, shrugging her shoulders in admittance and subconsciously hoping that he was referring to the younger 'her', as opposed to the decrepit one in the room down the corridor... "Well," Alex said, laughing slightly to herself, "well, yes I suppose I do..."
Gene replied slowly, his words deliberate, yet he still seemed to fumble upon them. "Do you-?" he frowned, then said, "I mean- how often do you come here?" His voice was quiet, hard, confused, and Alex had to think quickly before she answered, her eyes slightly averted as she twiddled her fingers together.
"I- I've never been here before..." she said slowly. "I mean- except last week. I mean-" she trailed off, conscious of the way the nurse was eyeing her with intense scrutiny, and wondering how best to divert the conversation. Thankfully, Gene didn't seem overly intent on pursuing the subject, and instead he ran a long-fingered hand through the grey-blonde hair that littered his temple.
"I didn't- I never knew you knew... I mean, I hoped yer knew, but- I never saw yer..."
"I-" Alex hesitated, wondering how wide a yarn she could spin when the nurse was watching so beadily. Luck, however, seemed to be shining down upon her, and she found herself breathing a sigh of relief a second later as the woman received a beep on her pager and scurried off to some other corner of the hospital to attend to something. "I didn't know," Alex went on, looking back at Gene. "I mean, not until very recently... I just assumed that we'd- lost contact..."
Gene nodded, his face sad and sour looking as he pursed his lips in thought. "So, you never heard from 'er then?"
Alex bit her lip, glancing down the corridor once, and then shrugging. "A few times," she said, settling for a half-truth. "She always tried but- well, she didn't always get through..." She gulped, watching as Gene's face seemed to crumble with guilt, and she felt her stomach twist at the sight, realising all too late that it would have been easier for him to accept the falsehood as truth, than to have his accusations thrown back in his face.
"I'm sorry," he muttered, his fingers clenching slightly, as they always did when he was in need of a cigarette and in the wrong situation to have one; she felt a bitter wave of nostalgia at the thought, digging her nails into her palm to bite back tears...
She said nothing, unable to find the words through the shock of tears until a moment later, when he'd scuffed his foot numerous times on the floor, as though attempting to say something, before he moved to leave. Desperate, Alex piped up, her voice slightly higher than usual as she did so.
"She always spoke about you," she said, biting down on her lip before continuing, wondering if it could really count as a lie when he'd been all she could think about in recent weeks... She went on softly, choosing her words with care. "I mean, when she did call," she murmured, "she spoke about you a lot..." She met his searching blue eyes with her hazel, wondering whether he could see the sincerity that burned through her irises, the meaning, the ploy for understanding she couldn't seem to restrain... Gene seemed to wait for what felt like an age, his hands deep in his pockets and his gaze completely unwavering; she wondered if he could really see her anymore, or if he was seeing someone else, a different her...
"Well," he said finally, his voice throaty and gruff as he averted his eyes, "don't believe everythin' you hear... sometimes I can be a very nice man." There was a note of playfulness in his voice, but the teasing didn't meet his eyes, and her heart ached bitterly as his forced smile fell away into nothingness, replaced by a pained look that struck her like a physical blow.
"She always said that," she assured him softly, attempting to keep the emotion from her voice as she went on. "I- she always thought you were a big softie underneath it all..." She trailed off, waiting for his reaction and wondering if he caught the lilting tease in her words. She smiled as his eyebrows flew up into his hairline, forehead creasing with disbelieving amusement.
"Wouldn't go that far, love," he smiled sadly, gulping hard as he added. "I might've 'ad a soft spot every now an' then, but I wasn't a Nancy..." There was a brief silence, in which Alex swore she could see Gene's brain working, the cogs turning and grinding repeatedly as he seemed to mull over Alex's most recent words.
"She was fond of you," she said, though she knew not why; it was as though they came from someone else, some other part of her that needed him to know how much he meant, despite the pain it could undoubtedly cause to them both... Her voice was barely above a whisper as she stepped forwards, contemplating touching her hand to his arm for a few moments before deciding against it, instead gripping her fingers together as she finished. "More than fond, actually..."
He didn't seem to notice, his face hard and impenetrable as he seemed to fight to throw up the walls he had always thought to be so safe behind. "I'm sure of it," Alex added softly, scared to lose him quite so suddenly as her voice threatened to crack in her throat. He half-smiled at that, raising a sardonic eyebrow in her direction as though laughing at the suggestion.
"You a Psychiatrist an' all?" He teased, though once again the smile failed to make his blue eyes sparkle – her heart sank slightly, but she couldn't help the small twitch at her lip as she answered him softly, more out of habit than anything else.
"It's Psychologist, actually," she murmured, meeting his eyes. "And yes, I am..."
He nodded, rolling his eyes at what he evidently presumed to be some sort of bad joke which was loaded with irony. "Course you are," he murmured, lip twitching slightly. His voice faded into silence and seemed to echo down the corridor for several minutes as he frowned thoughtfully, grinding his jaw and biting his lip in palpable indecision; Alex wanted to talk to him, to ask him more questions, but she knew him better, knew that if she interrupted, he would never say whatever it was... Unexpectedly, he reached swiftly into his breast pocket, drawing out an old leather wallet.
"You should 'ave this," he murmured, holding it out in front of him with burning sincerity in his gaze as he met her hazel eyes with his. She frowned, glancing down at it with confusion for several moments before realisation hit her in the stomach. "It-" he hesitated, then went on, waving the warrant card half-heartedly in her direction as his Adam's apple rose and fell in time with his gulp; "you should 'ave it," he repeated.
"You-?" she gasped in disbelief, wetting her lips with her tongue as her throat ran dry and her eyes began to water. "You kept it?" She could feel her hands start to tremble, see the nervous gulp and aversion of the eyes as Gene shrugged awkwardly, before she shook her head again. "But- but why? I mean-!" She stopped, frowning as she glanced back up at his face. "How? Shouldn't you have-?"
"Well yeah," he muttered, scuffing his foot subconsciously on the floor and half-grinning to himself. "I probably shouldn' 'ave kept it near thirty years, but- well..." he trailed off, the smile fading as he gulped, before he gritted his jaw and glanced away once again.
The next question tumbled out of her mouth before Alex could stop herself, before she could even pause to think about what she was doing; the words hung in the air like a noose, dangling loosely before her eyes, just out of reach, and yet taunting her with the danger that they entailed as they slid out of her mouth against her will.
"Did you love her?"
She expected to see his head snap up, to see his eyes widen in surprise and his head shake in amused negation... Instead he sighed, running his spare hand through his hair whilst the other closed more firmly around the card in his hand, before shaking his head with a sadness that was so prominent it was painful.
"No love," he said softly, his voice full of honesty and integrity, and tinged with pain and regret. "I didn't..." he gulped again, his jaw tight as he murmured, "I never got the chance." He stepped unexpectedly closer then, his movement swift as he pulled one of her hands into his frail, older ones, with a tenderness that made her eyes sting with tears.
His skin was warm against hers, and comforting to the touch, and it took her several moments to realize his intentions, even after he'd firmly pressed the leather warrant card into her still shaking fingers.
"Look after it, 'ey?" He said, his voice gruff. "She's a dippy tart, but she'd 'ave me bollucks on a hook if she woke up an' thought I'd lost the damn thing," he squeezed her hand gently, as though about to pull away, but Alex's other hand flew out of nowhere to catch his wrist, closing firmly around it as she did so, holding it where it was.
"Keep it," she implored softly, her eyes fixing on his with unabashed certainty. "I'll only lose it..." she hesitated, watching his eyebrows crinkle, treasuring the warmth of his skin and feeling her jaw tremble as she watched his eyes fall uncomfortably to their still joined hands, his jaw gritting slightly; despite the sight of it, she couldn't bring herself to sever the contact too soon. "Head full of brains," she whispered, unable to resist, smiling slightly as she finished, "common sense of a grain weevil..."
Gene's eyes widened in recognition, his hand tightening slightly around her own at the same moment that sadness crept through his shields and shone out from his eyes. His mouth opened as though he were about to speak, his face falling into a mask of pain and loss that wrenched at Alex's chest and ripped at her stomach; she stopped him with a squeeze of her hand and a small, conspiratorial smile. He gulped, his jaw tense, the vein in his temple throbbing, as though he were attempting to restrain some comment or question.
"It was nice to see you," Alex started. " I mean, to meet you," she corrected herself quickly, shaking her head slightly at her foolishness and hoping he wouldn't notice her mistake. "It was nice to meet you, Gene..." She emphasised the word, watching as he nodded, feeling her heart pound slightly faster as he made to speak, then closed his mouth again as he decided against it; a moment later, he'd torn his hand from hers, the warrant card wrenched from her grasp as he turned sharply on his heel and headed down the corridor.
She watched as his dark coat billowed around in his wake, the loose belt-tie flapping behind him as he stalked away; it was only once he was well out of sight that she allowed the tears to slip from her eyes.
----
Well... I didn't mean for it to be that evil... Although I'm not sure it isn't worse lol.
Mage of the Heart