I don't own Ashes to Ashes

I can only apologise for the evilness of the last chapter – it came out of nowhere while I was writing, and then it sort of manifested and may have extended the story a bit... but this chapters back in the 80s, so for now, I hope you'll forgive me and read on!

---

She looked beautiful; there was no denying it.

The dress flowed behind her, floating as she moved, her bright smile beaming, hair sleek and soft, slightly longer now and curled into gentle tendrils on either side of her face, her eyes bright with happiness, fixated firmly ahead of her, slender fingers wrapped gently around the bouquet of blossoming flowers in her hand. Roses of white and red were surrounded by lilies and carnations of varying colours, spilling out in a perfectly arranged manner. Her face was made up lightly, with soft foundation and blusher, a dusting of pale eye-shadow, and a dash of red lipstick that contrasted well with the white gown, complimenting the roses of her bouquet as she walked, as though on a cloud, towards the man waiting at the other end of the aisle.

His blonde hair was combed neatly over, a black tux accentuating his shoulders and offering a foreign impression of regale and sophistication that would otherwise have never graced his description. His hands were visibly shaking, but the smile on his face was full of brilliant happiness and pride, as though nothing could sully this perfect moment as his bride walked so elegantly towards him.

Gene could only watch as Shaz reached Chris' side, receiving a small kiss on the cheek from her father before stepping forward to take her husband-to-be by the hand, noticeably entwining her fingers with his and flashing him a smile so dazzling that for a moment Gene could understand why Chris was so besotted. He glanced at the woman beside him, whose arm was linked with his, her brown hair framing her face, her round cheeks forming dimples as she smiled happily at the wedding couple, her grip on his arm tightening only slightly as the priest began to speak, the familiar script of the ceremony falling on both pairs of ears with eerie recognition.

For Gene, there was only the dim feeling of regret and bitterness, but he knew as the tears slid from her eyes that, in her opinion, they held a sincerely different meaning, close to her heart and unashamedly bittersweet. His hand reached up to cover hers, his small attempt at a smile, which was meant to be reassuring and understanding, appearing shaken and nervous. She smiled back, her eyes watering as she swiped at her eyes with a tissue in embarrassment.

"Being silly," she whispered, smiling with a little more certainty now.

"Yer don't-"

"Shush!" She said, smiling almost mischievously as she nodded towards the happy couple. "They're starting the vows!"

----

"I, Christopher Andrew Skelton, take thee, Sharon Louise Granger, to be my wedded wife. Ter have and to hold from this day forward, fer better, fer worse, fer richer, fer poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part..."

Chris' voice was wracked with nerves, but there was not one trace of uncertainty in his tone, and though he trembled as he slid the ring onto Shaz's offered finger, there was no denying the absolution of his words, the honesty and genuine meaning they held to him. "And thereto, I give thee my cough."

"Troth!" The priest muttered, causing a murmur of amusement to carry through the church as Chris flushed red, hurrying to correct himself with his fingers still holding the ring in place on Shaz's finger, his worry evident as he glanced at her face; she was smiling, grinning so unashamedly and with such endearment, that if it had been anything other than a wedding, Gene might well have snorted in genuine derision and ordered that they stop behaving like a pair of nancy's. As it was, his lips twitched, his hand covering up his mouth as he feigned a cough, but he didn't miss the knowing glance that his companion sent his way.

"Troth!" Chris corrected himself, clearly tightening his grasp on Shaz's hand. "I give thee my troth!"

A glance at Ray, and Gene saw his own amusement reflected in the Best Man's gaze, certain also that he saw the added mumbling of "twonk" on the DS's mouth, before he turned back to Chris and Shaz.

"I, Sharon Louise Granger, take you, Christopher Andrew Skelton, to be my wedded husband. To have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part, and thereto, I give thee my troth..." The grin on Shaz's lips was unshakeable as she slipped the gold wedding band onto Chris' finger, instantly threading her own fingers back through his as they turned back towards the priest. Gene glanced to his side, seeing fresh tears tracking down his companion's cheek, instantly leaning to the side and murmuring softly in her ear.

"You alright, Annie, love?"

She smiled up at him, her familiar brown eyes glistening up at him in the warm light of the church as she nodded. "Fine Guv," she murmured, squeezing in assurance at his arm. "Just being silly... I'm fine... really."

Gene felt his eyebrows knit together, but decided to spare her the further questions as the priest's voice broke out above their conversation.

"You may kiss the bride!"

He turned in time to see a grinning Chris press a firm, yet still indisputably gentle kiss to Shaz's lips, his hands cradling either side of her face with tenderness as his mouth moved over hers. Gene saw Annie's mouth twitch up into a full-blown smile, and glancing down at her he saw the same happiness that he'd witnessed on her wedding day to Sam, and for a moment he could forget everything that had happened since then. As a round of applause broke out through the church, Gene half expected Sam to appear at his side, wrap his arms around Annie's waist and make a joking, teasing comment about Chris, the sort of which they had come to develop in the seven years they had worked together.

"Sam would've been very proud," Annie murmured, still smiling, as though reading his thoughts.

Gene nodded in agreement, "yeah, Annie," he answered. "'e would."

---

Gene hadn't met Mr and Mrs Granger before- he'd spoken to them once on the phone, but had never really gleaned anything about them from the brief conversation, except that they felt bereft whilst their daughter lay in hospital – he couldn't really have asked any other questions whilst keeping his dignity, and so he was unsure what to expect as he entered the Hotel where the wedding reception was being held; it soon transpired that Mr and Mrs Granger were either completely loaded, or now several thousand pounds in debt.

Over the top table was a large, rainbow shaped arch, which was covered completely with delicate flowers, entwined around one another with precision. Each table was home to another extravagant bouquet, placed in fine glass vases on top of silk table cloths. The chairs were of a rich mahogany, with plush red cushions lining the seat and back, and he could already see several of the older generation sinking gratefully into them. Waiters dressed in tuxedos and bow ties carried fine glasses full of champagne that, on tasting, Gene found to be Bollinger; for a brief moment, he simply held the glass to his lips, a lump in his throat as he inhaled the scent of it, feeling the bubbles fizz away in his mouth and race over the surface of his tongue...

It was only when Annie tugged on his arm that he looked up, catching Shaz's gaze and seeing the nervousness in her eyes, even as Chris grasped her hand and grinned like an oaf. She was voicing questions through the silence, and the lump in his throat instantaneously trebled in size as Gene realized that it wasn't mere coincidence. He managed a half smile- which he could only hope was gratuitous- before Shaz was rushed along by the crowd of well-wishers, and Gene was tugged to his seat by Annie's soft hand on his arm.

They sat down, Gene sinking into his chair with a wave of relief, downing the glass of champagne before motioning for another from a passing waiter. He could feel Annie's gaze on him, feel the assessing nature of her eyes, and he sighed, leaning forward on the table and withdrawing a cigarette from his jacket pocket as he did so.

"Y'know, Cartwright, some might think you're starin' 'cause you like what yer see?" He wanted it to sound teasing, light, but his own heart wasn't in it, and he saw the sorrowful smile she sent his way as she patted him lightly on the arm. He sighed; they'd become closer over the years, when Sam was there, usually passing around the drinks as the three of them –and occasionally Gene's ex wife, bitter and reluctant though she was- sat around the table. There'd been flirtation and joking, companionship and warmth, but since he'd left Manchester, he'd barely heard from Annie at all, except for a few heart rendering phone calls in the night when grief had stricken her hardest.

He should have felt happy, like he had part of his best friend back, but there was no denying that, although they were close in the past, it just wasn't the same without Sam.

"Chris told me about DI Drake," Annie said softly, reaching for her own glass and swirling it in her fingers. Gene rolled his eyes, taking a drag on his cigarette and sighing.

"Stupid twonk," he muttered, blowing smoke away from the table and avoiding her eyes. "I'm fine, love."

"Y'know, if Sam were 'ere, 'e'd tell you to stop moping about like a Nancy-boy, an' enjoy the party."

"He'd never call me a Nancy-boy," Gene grunted, taking another deep inhalation. "'e'd 'ave said it was un-politically correct or summat..."

"He'd 'ave called you it if 'e saw you looking like this!" Annie retorted teasingly. Gene bit back a smirk, catching Viv's eye as he took the seat opposite, his girlfriend instantly taking the seat beside him, smiling nervously across at Gene as though scared what he might do... A moment of recollection later, and Gene remembered that last time he'd met her, he'd made a lewd comment about the length of her dress, and he instantly flashed her an apologetic grin, seeing the tension relax from her shoulders as she settled more comfortably into the crook of Viv's arm.

Annie sighed, rolling her eyes and absently tracing her fingers around the delicate rim of her champagne glass, watching almost wistfully as Chris and Shaz settled into their seats at the main table, still caught up amidst laughter and cheer, even as the waiters appeared with the starters – vol-au-vents, stuffed with a combination of meat and savoury fillings.

Gene could barely suppress a grin as he glanced at Annie, who was smiling with similar amusement at the vague and distant memory of Ray's somewhat failed explanation of the pastry dish, back some nine years ago, in a white van outside a tennis court; clearly, Gene thought, Chris had expanded his horizons since then.

The starter passed by, and wine was drunk, and by the time the main course was served, the old crone on the next table was drunk and giddy, squeakily exclaiming her love of 'all things bright and wonderful', before downing another glass of wine and pealing with laughter. As the meal went by, and as he watched his companions laughing and smiling at one another, Gene couldn't help but glance at the happy couple, comparing their radiant smiles with his own distant memories of the rather less extravagant merriness of his own wedding.

As the clock ticked towards five, he remembered with a somewhat mischievous smirk that at this point on his own wedding day, he was pissed as a fart and singing the National Anthem at the top of his lungs, joined by his cousins and his best man, whilst his new wife had accepted all the gracious bestowments of well-wishes and congratulations. To his knowledge, Chris was practically sober; or at least, he hadn't had enough alcohol to be drunk. His smile, however, was that of a man drunk on such happiness that liquid substance made no impact; every now and then, his arm would snake around Shaz's shoulders, his lips against her ear, his eyes shining with affection and warmth as his hand rubbed gently at her arm. Once, as Gene watched them almost painfully from his chair, he was certain that his DC whispered those famous three words that had tied so many hearts together, and a moment later, Shaz was beaming back at him with glistening eyes, her face alive and full of spirit.

Gene sighed, downing the last half of his drink and pouring himself another one only seconds later. He felt bitterly miserable, his heart sinking as he witnessed, not for the first time, the magnitude of impact marriage should have on a couples lives... It hadn't even bothered him in the past, really, if he recalled correctly. He had been content with the idea of coming home to a certain woman every day, and her parents would have frowned down upon him unless he'd stuck a ring on her finger, so he'd done the decent thing and married her. It hadn't up-heaved his life, it hadn't caused any sudden wave of emotion and affection, and nor had it made him feel particularly lucky, until they got back to the hotel room and she'd put on some white negligee that had broken through the haze of alcohol... In hindsight, he supposed he hadn't shown her a completely bad time that day...

"So, are you going to tell me about her?" Annie asked, looking absently away from him and towards Ray, whose arm was thrown around the same girl that he had left the bar with on the night of Gene's failed attempted trice with Polly.

"Who?" Gene asked, lighting another cigarette and ignoring the disgust on the face of a woman walking by as he did so.

"Alex Drake?" Annie asked, smiling.

Gene looked away, smoking the cigarette halfway before he had the guts to glance back at her. "She's a bloody fruitcake," he surmised eventually. "Never does anythin' I say, runs about screamin' about ethics and bloody witness protection like she's got a gun rammed up her tight little arse, tells me on a regular basis me swimmers won't be good for nout if I keep smokin', an' she goes off on 'er own even when I expressly forbid 'er to keep the hell away." He took another deep drag, feeling himself shake with emotion as he spoke about her for the first time in what felt like forever. A moment later, he saw Annie's bemused grin, as though she too were making connections with another of Gene's DI's who had embodied all of the stated qualities.

"Sounds familiar," she teased. Gene grunted something incoherent, and then nodded.

"Yeah. She's like bloody Tyler, but with periods and PMS! You do the math, Cartwright; you lived with 'im fer six years!"

Annie smiled, speaking softly, "best six years of my life, Guv; I don't regret a day."

He gulped, glancing away from her saddened eyes and nodding his head curtly. "Yeah..." he murmured, "same 'ere, love."

She placed her hand lightly on his arm, feeling the tension in his body, and sighing with sympathetic understanding. "You miss her, don't you?"

"Thought we were talkin' 'bout Tyler?" Gene replied quickly... too quickly, he realized, the moment she raised her eyebrow at him. He sighed, sitting back in his chair and stubbing out his cigarette on the corner of his plate, lowering his voice so that only Annie could hear, the other occupants of their table rendered blindly incapable of participating in their conversation as he turned his body towards hers, his hands wringing each other in his lap as he spoke, voice hesitant, nervous, and unfavourably foreign to this newfound desire to express himself, to share his burden with someone.

He'd tried, with Marion, to find someone whom he could relate to, but somehow whenever she spoke, she did so with an underlying warning, and Gene could not bring himself, however hard he tried, to turn himself away from Alex, whatever condition she was in.

"Yeah, I miss 'er," he conceded, gulping hard. "Ain't like before though – with Sam, I mean... 'cause...'cause she ain't..."

"She hasn't died?" Annie asked softly, her voice slightly pained, full of sorrow. Gene clenched his eyes shut, shaking his head slowly.

"I shouldn' 'ave said anythin', Annie," he murmured, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyeballs and groaning in frustration. "Yer shouldn' 'ave ter listen ter me gettin' all-"

"You're right though, Guv," she murmured, pulling his hand down and resting it lightly in hers as his eyes flickered open. "Sam died- she hasn't. Don't give up on her, and then maybe... maybe she'll wake up..." She glanced at the waiter as they collected their plates, smiling graciously, without a trace of the shyness Gene had once taken her to have in bucket loads, before she looked back at him.

"I ain't givin' up on her, love," he murmured, rubbing his face lightly with the palm of his hand.

"Good," Annie said, smiling warmly before releasing his hand and turning to the Black Forest gateaux that had just been placed in front of her. She toyed idly with her dessert fork for several moments, and then grinned again, glancing at his confused expression with a small tinkle of laughter before she spoke. "You know, Sam always used to say that you should've married a more modern woman..." she laughed at Gene's corresponding raise of the eyebrow, carrying on with a smile. "I guess he was right- they both sound pretty modern when you think about it."

She was tucking into her dessert by the time Gene had really managed to process her words, and he glanced at her briefly, before settling back in his chair, ignoring the dessert as he pondered her statement. He supposed Sam would have picked up on the fact his marriage became a sham, but he'd never really considered that his DI would have voiced his opinions to Annie... "He said that?" He asked, voice disbelieving.

Annie nodded, swallowing down her food with a smile. "He used to say you could do with being- what was it? Oh- 'converted to metro-sexuality, by a twenty-first century feminist!'" She laughed at her own attempted imitation, and Gene found himself smirking, shaking his head.

"What the bloody hell is 'metro-sexuality' when it's at 'ome? I ain't a bloody nancy!" Gene's tone was laced with distaste, and Annie laughed.

"He always used to say it was just 'a straight bloke who cared what he looked like'."

"So, a poof, then?" Gene supplied, rolling his eyes.

"No, he made a point that they had to be straight," her voice was laughing and Gene shook his head.

"Poof in denial," he retorted, "always knew he liked a bit of-" He caught the look of incredulous surprise on Annie's face, and had the decency to shrug it off with a smirk. "Sorry, love."

He reached for his drink, muttering silently under his breath as he did so. "But it doesn't make him any less of a poof." As he drank, he ignored the strange, whirring feeling in the pit of his stomach, attempting to deny the similarities between Sam's prediction and the Alex he had come to adore, which struck a chord so strongly in his chest that he felt a slight twinge as its shocks reverberated through him. He pushed away the slight nag at Annie's reference to the twenty-first century, ignoring the voice at the back of his mind – Alex's voice, he realized- that was trying to speak out above the echoing din of the room. I'm from the future...

He glanced into the bottom of his glass and blinked, surprised to find that there was still some wine in it. He must be pissed as a fart to be thinking like this, but as he looked again at Annie, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was going mental... His thoughts trailed off into their own reverie, broken only when Annie nudged him in the arm and pointed towards the top table.

"Speeches!" She said, settling herself more comfortably in her chair and looking expectantly up at Shaz's father. Gene blinked, clearing his throat and leaning forward on his arms as the speeches began.

---

Mr Granger seemed to be trying to put off the inevitable eventual break-up of the wedding celebrations by dragging his speech on for what felt like forever, detailing – sometimes with more information than was strictly necessary – every aspect of Shaz's childhood, adolescence and adulthood to date. Gene had managed to smoke his way through half of a packet of Marlboro, and drunk a whole bottle of champagne by himself, before the older man walked around to his daughter to press a gentle kiss on her cheek, tears streaming down his face as he braced her head against his chest.

Gene might have admitted to thinking Shaz was a little embarrassed by the whole thing, but since most of the women at his table, including Annie, were all swiping at their eyes by the end of it all, he wasn't sure whether or not the shove in her father's chest was in order to hide her own emotion, or because she really was sick of the mollycoddling that, for all intents and purposes, it would appear her parents had bestowed upon her since birth.

Ray's speech, meanwhile, had the whole room in fits of laughter, and was over and done in five minutes – the general consensus, it would seem, was that it hadn't been long enough, but as Ray offered his congratulations to them both in his own roundabout way - "don't be a twonk, 'ey Chris?" – it appeared that he had said everything that was necessary to lighten the mood, and when Chris stood up, it was evident that he was more than a little unnerved by the idea of following up Ray's hilarity and Mr Granger's heartfelt warmth.

He shifted nervously from one foot to another, gulping, nodding, showing, in every respect, the same characteristics he often demonstrated when surrounded by young girls, back in his youth. Gene couldn't really blame him; every eye was turned expectantly towards his DC, and the fact he was the groom and therefore expected to make a stunning and emotional speech was probably making the poor bloke crap himself with nerves.

A chuckle resounded through the room as Chris drew out a series of bright yellow cards from his pockets, removing the elastic band around them and clearing his throat before reading the first one, his hand reaching for Shaz's as he began, his words painfully honest and open, without dallying or hesitation – as he spoke, Gene heard Annie sniffling at his side, and a moment later, he'd taken her hand lightly in his own, squeezing reassuringly at her as his eyes remained fixed on Chris.

----

"Never thought I'd get married really... Always thought if I did, I'd end up doing summat stupid, an' getting sent to prison like that copper in that film 'oo murdered 'is wife... But that was before I met you, Shaz."

A female concordance of 'awwww' seemed to dominate the room, whilst, as far as Gene could tell, every man within hearing distance cringed and groaned with obvious embarrassment and shook their head in silent disbelief. Ray, in particular, he noted, was closing his eyes in hopeless despair and shaking his head from side to side with exaggerated deliverance.

"I once got told that yer 'ave to be yerself to get a woman to like you – 'ave to treat 'er like she's a person, not just an object... An' I never really understood, 'cause I'd never met anyone I liked that much... But I like you, Shazzer." Chris' unashamed admission caused Gene to cover his mouth with his hand, hiding the smirk of amusement from view in the same way as every other man in the room. Viv, sat across from Gene, was chuckling to himself, whilst Ray was unashamedly throwing back a whiskey in evident desperation, motioning to a nearby waiter to refill his glass with the bottle in his hand. Gene snorted, briefly catching sight of Annie's slightly saddened face before he fell silent again, glancing back at Chris, and only then realizing whose words the DC must be quoting – no other bloke had ever spoken like that.

"Annie, I'm-" He meant to apologize, turning back towards her and cringing at his own lack of empathy, but she was already shaking her head, waving him off as her gaze remained riveted on the happy couple, Chris' smile slightly more confident as Shaz positively beamed back at him.

"The boss was always good wi' stuff like that – relationships, like... An' 'e ain't 'ere now, but if 'e was, Shaz, I'd tell 'im it was down to 'im- 'cause it is." Gene sat up slightly straighter, the lump in his throat suddenly becoming a block of concrete that plummeted all the way down to his stomach, making his recently devoured lunch slosh around in its pit as he attempted to wet his mouth. Annie was crying silently at his side, and he could only squeeze her hand, his own feelings too overwhelming to allow him to think of much else, since even Ray's face had solemnity etched into every line, the set of his mouth straight and full of respect. Gene saw Shaz place her hand lightly on Chris' waist as he went on, her smile now slightly watery.

"I'd never 'ave gotten up the guts to talk to yer – properly, like- if 'e 'adn't said all that, an' I dunno what I'd be doin' if I never 'ad..." Chris gulped, and the whole of the rooms occupants could see his Adam's apple rise and fall before he spoke again, his voice slightly softer, edged with that little bit more tenderness... "I erm, I never thought I'd be this lucky, an' I still can' believe yer said yes... But I love you, Shazzer, an' I won't mess it up this time." For a moment, Gene thought he saw an apologetic, imploring look passing between the couple, but that was not nearly quite so prominent as the looks passing between relatives and friends around the room, who were evidently not in the loop on recent events. He was surprised when Chris turned his head to look at him, gulping nervously, a question in his eyes, and Gene's head was nodding without prior thought as he encouraged him to go on, without him hesitating for a second. The smile on Chris' face was full of gratitude as he moved closer to Shaz, his arm around her shoulders as he glanced at his card, gulping slightly.

"I thought I lost yer once... well... twice, now," Chris corrected himself, hesitating slightly, casting another look at Gene who, this time, could only frown, confusion evident on his face as Chris went on. "I dunno what'd 'ave 'appened if you'd died that night – but I know the only reason yer didn't was 'cause of Ale- I mean, DI Drake." He cleared his throat, eyes fixed on his paper, face wrought with concentration, and Gene felt himself stiffen, Annie's hand squeezing back at his own straight away as he found himself unable to tear away his eyes, or to leave the room, or do anything but try not to hyperventilate in the large, suddenly crowded, claustrophobic room... "I know you call 'er yer Angel, an' she's mine an' all, fer savin' yer for me... an'- an' I know everyone wants 'er ter get better soon... so- so before I say anythin' else, I just wanna say summat for her, if yer'd all-" he motioned with his hands for people to stand, and Gene could barely breathe, his legs trembling and lungs aching as he pushed himself up to his feet amidst the crowd of confused wedding guests, his vision blurred, nothing sinking in at all but the fact that someone had pushed a fresh glass of Bollinger into his hand, and that Chris' voice was suddenly stronger, louder, more prominent than it had ever been...

"To DI Drake!" Chris said loudly.

"To DI Drake!" Came the reply, full of warmth and genuine emotion that caused Gene's head to ache. He stared into the bubbling liquid in his glass, seeing his drawn, white face reflected in the surface as the crowd lifted their glasses, drinking deeply. It took him several moments to collect himself, and when he had done so, he glanced towards Chris and Shaz, who were stood, arms around each other, the perfect picture of loves young dream, both of them looking at him with concern and nervousness written on their faces. He nodded, faintly aware of Annie's hand on his shoulder as he lifted his own glass in toast towards them, swallowing hard and attempting to wet his lips with his tongue before murmuring, his heart pounding recklessly in his chest as he did so, in a voice that was barely more than a whisper to anyone else, but that was completely, overwhelmingly loud to his own ears as the words wrapped around him - "to Bolly."

The glass was at his lips, and the liquid was tipping down his throat, rolling over his tongue and fizzing in his mouth as his eyes remained fixed on his two junior officers, swallowing almost reluctantly, as though releasing the moment would bring it all back once again... He glanced at Ray, whose face was etched with the utmost respect and solemnity as the last few toasters drained their glasses, then at Viv, who managed a small, nervous smile which ought to have instilled confidence.

He met Annie's eyes, saw complete understanding, bitter sympathy and sadness, and he could barely think straight as he found himself unable to speak, simply downing the rest of his drink and walking from the room, certain that a hundred pairs of eyes followed him, but knowing that the two pairs that mattered most on this day understood – he didn't think about the others.

----

Mm... Yeah... I shall just like, allow you all to throw tomatoes at me... dum-dee-dum...

Mage of the Heart