Blessed are those that find peace, never to cry again. Alex brims with tears as she walks into the pub, looking so small in her large coat all of the sudden (she's never been good at just walking away) but then someone holds the door open behind her and there is a large gust of wind. "Hurry up, Bols, it's cold out here."

Eyes wide as tea saucers she stumbles, looking at him as if he'd just emerged from the depths of hell (which isn't too far off the analogy she's sure). "Gene," she says and forgets the rest of what she's saying.

Then Alex has her face buried in his coat and is clinging to him like she'll never let him go (she won't). Familiar voices and there is a jukebox playing Bowie softly in the background.

She can hear Chris order them all a pint, hear Shaz laugh at something Ray has said but Alex is perfectly contend to thrive in Gene Hunt's arms until she rots away. He doesn't try to stop her, merely guides her back and she can feel the vibrations from his chest as he greets a group of people. Nelson. Annie.

"Alex." She looks up.

"Sam Tyler." she says, wiping at her watery red eyes, sniffling.

"Oh great. D'you now, I'm not quite sure this is heaven if I'm stuck with you two."

Alex laughs, taking his hand. "You better believe it, Guv."