genes_world_backup | (no subject)

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(no subject)

Who: Gene Hunt, Alex Drake, Open
When: Evening
Where: CID Office, Fenchurch East
What: Gene gets back from his ‘team building’ exercise
Warnings: Gene’s potty mouth, as always

Gene Hunt, half of CID and the Quattro had been missing for much of the day. They eventually returned and the door to the CID swung open. In walked in a very wet team, looking very much like they had been dragged through the gutter. They're covered in dust, dirt, cobwebs, flour and a multitude of colours. Gene had taken them on a 'team building' exercise, and for once it didn't involve sitting in a pub getting pissed.

Gene removed his coat as he walked to his office, hanging it up before addressing the team that had been left behind, clasping his hands together, wringing them. "Right then. Any murders?"

"No, Guv."

"Stabbings?"

"No, Guv."

"Robberies?"

"No, Guv."

"Anything?"

"No, Guv."

"Glad to hear it. Okay ladies, let’s call it a day. Go on, get out of 'ere before I change my mind." He paused, turning his attention to the wet, filthy team. "You did good today. I'm proud of you." What was that? Gene? Praising his team?

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Alex was waiting in his office, poking through the computer and getting him up to date on a few reports sitting on his desk that had clearly been sitting there a while. Old habits and all that...

She smiled to herself as he praised the team - Well done, Guv. - and put a hand to her mouth to silence the laughter that bubbled up as the young uniformed WPC quietly sidled up to Gene and said something Alex couldn't hear, but jerked her head in the direction of the office. Probably a heads' up that 'the woman from D&C' was in his office.

Gene gave a nod to the young WPC, before moving to his office door, pushing it open, leaning against the frame. "It would appear you are sat on my throne, DI Drake." He folded his arms across his chest, head tilting as he watched her. Though it was hardly intimidating considering that he looked like a drowned rat.

He pushed himself off of the door frame and entered the room, closing the door behind himself, instantly moving to pour himself a drink.

"One for me, too," Alex nodded to the bottle. She flickered her eyes up and down his large form. "Dare I ask...?"

Gene filled a second glass, placing it on the desk for Alex. "Well, don't let it go to that pretty head of yours. But, I took your advice. Team building exercise."

He took a swig from his own glass and put the bottle away.

She beamed at him, but remained quizzical. "What part of that involved getting soaking wet and filthy?"

"Crawling through an abandoned warehouse with water pistols and flour bombs," Gene stated as if it was the most obvious answer in the world, a wicked glint in his eyes.

He moved to the filing cabinent, opening the bottom drawer and took out a desk name plaque. It was Alex's. From before. "Here."

Alex was very, very glad for the scotch. That was... just so Gene. Trust him to put his spin on it -- although, really, he was ahead of his time. If this had been the real world, she'd have suggested he go corporate on that idea. She snickered faintly and sipped her scotch.

She didn't pay much attention as he rummaged, finishing her (well, his) report and setting it to print... but then he handed her the little metal D.I. Drake plaque and her chest clenched. Slightly misty-eyed, she looked up at him and caught his hand as well as her named plate. "Gene," she breathed.

Gene gave her that awkward smile that he so often gave her when he wasn't really sure how to act or feel. "You might not be my D.I., anymore, Bolls, but you're still a D.I."

He pulled away and moved to retrieve his scotch, draining the glass. "I'll even let you use my desk, for now."

"Sign off on these?"

She passed him the papers she'd put together for him, moving them beyond the slightly awkward spot in the conversation.

He perched on the edge of the desk, leaning over to put his scribble on the pages, not even reading them over. He could just've signed all his possessions over to a penguin for all he knew.

"Look, Bolls... I was thinking..." He paused, tapping the pen against the desk. "That maybe, if you wanted, I could drop by your place later, bring some wine or something? ... If you're interested..."

Alex looked up at him thoughtfully. For Gene, that was quite the gesture. "I'd like that," she nodded, gathering up the papers he'd signed, paperclipping them and handing them back. "Just be sure to give those to the Super first, hm? Your reports for the month."

"I mean it wouldn't be a date or anything... Unless you wanted it to be?" So much for smooth charm.

"Reports? I haven't done my reports for this month..." Or last month. He flipped through the papers, frowning a little. "You didn't have to do that, Bolly. Thank you."

"I came to see you and they were undone. Old habits..." Alex handed him another sheaf of papers. "Sign again -- last month."

She leaned her chin in her hand and regarded him levelly for a moment, enjoying seeing him squirm a little. "A date? Mmm. I think I'd be alright with that." A smile pulled at her lips. "Wear something slutty, Gene."

Well, it wouldn't compare with what was being cooked in the kitchens below, but Alex Drake was quite pleased with her spaghetti bolognese. She'd picked up fresh tomatoes, peppers and mushrooms to drench with the thick sauce, and the garlic bread was browning nicely.

It had been a long, long time since she'd cooked for someone like this -- and she hoped Gene would like it. If not... well, there was chocolate gâteaux for dessert. He'd like that at least.

To balance out the fact that she was cooking and he was bringing wine, and the fact that the d-word had been used, Alex had opted for a casual approach to the evening. She was wearing leggings and her deep blue off-the-shoulder top -- the better to be comfy in. And, as she cooked, she was enjoying a gin and tonic aperitif. The radio was on, and she belted along with Bonnie Tyler --

"Once upon a time there was light in my life, now there's only love in the dark..."

Gene Hunt. The Manc Lion. The Guv. A supposed epitome of strength had spent every second since leaving work second-guessing himself and wondering whether this was the right thing. Despite his fears he was now stood outside Alex's flat, bottle of wine in one hand, a bouquet of flowers in the other - and not some cheap bunch from a corner shop, but a proper bouquet from a flower shop.

He no longer looked like he had been dragged through a hedge backwards and dumped in a baker's shop. He was dressed in a suit - always a suit, he rarely wore anything else. He'd even put on a decent aftershave.

He took a deep breath and knocked on the door, leaning against the wall as he waited.

The knocking finally got Alex's attention and she set down the wooden spoon and picked up a tea towel to wipe her hands on as she headed to the door. "Coming," she called out, pausing to glance in the mirror in the hall. One corner of the tea towel served to get the tiny spatter of sauce off her cheekbone and her other hand smoothed down her bob a little better on the left side.

"Good shower?" she greeted him. He looked good, she thought, but then he always did when he made an effort. (Was she underdressed? She could always slip a dress on and claim she'd worn the leggings to cook in...)

Gene pushed himself off the wall as the door opened, looking as cool and calm as he could. "Mm. I feel better for it."

He held out the flowers, giving a smile. "Here, I got these for you." He felt like so much of a wimp right now. Like the geeky kid of the class trying to get the attention of the popular girl. "You scrub up well, Bolls. You look great."

"Thank you so much." Alex took the flowers in one hand and cupped his face with the other, leaning in to press a gentle but slightly lingering kiss to his lips. "I really adore roses."

Stepping back to let him in, she brought the bouquet to her face and inhaled the flowers' perfume. "Oh, and they smell fantastic. Come on in, dinner's almost ready."

Alex's kisses were becoming rather addictive. In fact, being near Alex in general was becoming addictive. It was probably a dangerous path to wander down, yet he seemed to be heading down it anyway. He returned the kiss, before following Alex inside. It seemed strange to be in the flat again.

"Food smells great, Bolls. Might have to come here more often."

"You might even be welcome, Guv," she teased him, fishing a vase out from under the sink to put the flowers in. "I'm not promising that my spag bol will match Luigi's, but I thought after the day you've had, something that would stick to your ribs would be welcome."

Gene fetched a corkscrew to open the wine with. He was happy that things hadn't moved around too much. He poured two glasses of wine and leaned against the kitchen counter. "I'm sure it tastes great. Multi-talented bird, aren'tcha? Great cop, great looker, and a cook too. And I'm still deciding where you were a prozzie or not. I'll let you know when I decide," he teased, relaxing a little.

"Oh, God, you're not still on that, are you?" Alex wrinkled her nose and fetched a dessert spoon to taste the sauce. "Oh, that's good," she smiled, and dipped it back into the pot before holding it out for him to taste.

Gene gave a laugh. "Do you blame me? You, in that outfit, caressing my motor, burned into my brain forever." He leaned forward, tasting the sauce, clicking his tongue in approval. "Tastes good, Drakey."

He leaned back against the counter, lowering his head. "And just for the record, this is a date, none of that pansy tea and sympathy, right?"

"I know," she promised, testing the pasta and chewing thoughtfully. "It has to be a date, if, for no other reason than the fact that you're wearing that after-shave." Alex set the strainer in her sink and glanced at him sideways, opting for 'forward' again. "It always makes me think of burying my face in your neck in that dark, sealed room."

"Well..." If Alex could tease, so could he, right? Right. "...We could always turn out the lights and I could always put a comforting arm around you. You have to take your top off, mind."

He paused for a moment, before all but waggling his eyebrows at her. "No worries of being interrupted by a rescue party, either."