If Gene Hunt had a pound for every time someone referred to him or this world as a dream or a figment of their imagination he would be very rich. Even if it was semi-true. He poured the three scotches and slid one along the desk towards Molly. "I think you'll find this is very real, love."

And then he turned his attention to Alex, reaching out to brush some stray hair behind her ear. "Want me to give you two some time alone?"