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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Gene twirled spagetti around his fork, taking a taste. It tasted as good as it looked. He chewed thoughtfully, washing the mouthful down with some wine. "Makes a change from chips." Or pizza, burgers, bacon or any of the usual crap that he lived on.

He fell silent for a long while, gritting his teeth as he mulled over something in his head. "Alex, can I ask you something?" Another pause. "When you foundout the truth... why did you stay? Why didn't you go with Keats?"

She was content to eat in companionable silence... especially since Gene seemed to be thinking hard about something. Alex had more patience now -- he'd come to it in his own time.

"You can always ask me, Gene. I don't always promise an answer -- but if I give one, it will be truthful," she told him, continuing to enjoy dinner and wine.

"Why did... oh, Gene. Because it was the truth. Because it was real. You didn't deserve what had happened... but you took what happened to you and you've done wonderful things for so many people."

She set her fork down and just looked at him for a minute. "That skinny kid with his head full of Westerns grew up to be a damn good man, and the finest copper I've ever known. Keats? Keats could never touch that, Gene. Not in a million years."

Gene kept his eyes on Alex, watching her with a level gaze, letting her words sink in. His lip quirked into a smile. "That skinny kid... He had a lot of help from an annoying ponce in a leather jacket and an even more annoying mouthy tart. Before they came into his life he was a thug fighting the corrupt world with corruption of his own."

"Well, I can't really speak for the ponce, but the tart is pleased to have been able to help." The affection she felt for him was plain in her words.

"Me too, Bolly. Me too." He really would've fallen apart without her. Not just when the truth was revealed about him, but plenty of other times too. She gave him strength to fight.

"One more question," he started, taking another bite of food. "Did you really think Tyler's body was in that grave?"

Alex sighed heavily and took a long sip of her wine. "Gene... I-- I didn't know what to think. Things weren't adding up. Th-they weren't making any sense whatsoever. I was deeply confused, and Keats just kept pushing and pushing."

Another sip of the wine. "I don't know. I know I really didn't want it to be. I know it was a horrible, rude shock that there was a body there.."

"A shock for you and me both, Bolly." Bloody Keats. He had set the whole thing up so well. Plant the seed of doubt in Alex's mind and push until she gave in, knowing full well Gene would follow. The truth revealed to them both like one giant slap in the face - or more appropriately, bullet to the head.

"I'm sorry."

"So am I, Gene." She reached for his hand. "So am I."

Gene took hold of her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Right, no more talk of Keats, death or skinny runts for the rest of the night. This a date, Bollyknickers, so we're going to bloody well enjoy it."

And just like that he was his confident self once more, smirk and all. At least for now.

"So far, so good," she remarked. "I think it's going better than our previous attempts." Alex rapped her knuckles against the wood of the table before reclaiming her fork.

It was good to see him smile again...

"No interruptions, no really awkward moments and you haven't slapped me once. We must be going for a record." He reached for the wine bottle, refilling both of their glasses.

"If you're really lucky, I might even give you another dance."

"Being asked about if I thought that was Sam might count as an awkward moment from where I'm sitting," Alex pointed out. "But," her voice softened, "I would love another dance."

"Sorry." More than one apology in a night? Oh well, he could make an exception since it was Bolly. He munched on some of the bread, smiling at Alex across the table.

"Believe it or not, I don't like remembering not having faith in you, Gene." She glanced at his plate, "Did you want some more sauce?"

"Good. Because neither do I, as it happens. I much prefer it when you put your faith in me and I get to play the hero." Gene gave another smile, followed by a slight chuckle. "I like playing the hero, especially when he gets the girl."

He set his fork down on his plate and shook his head. "No more for me. It was delicious though."

Smiling softly, she finished her own plateful. The evening was going so well it made Alex wonder why they'd fought this for so bloody long...

"Tell me you saved room for dessert."

Gene almost choked on a mouthful of wine, an eyebrow arching. "Since you're a classy bird, I'm assuming you mean the edible kind rather than the fumble on the bed kind?"

"Well, the intended meaning was the edible kind..." Alex arched an eyebrow, her expression not precluding the latter. "There's chocolate gâteaux."

"Chocolate... It just so happens I like chocolate." Or anything sweet for that matter. The sweeter the better.

"I know, Guv," she pointed out, slightly smug.

Gene gave a slight chuckle. "Right, well... gâteaux sounds great."

Alex stood, taking their empty plates and the empty bread basket over to her kitchen and setting them beside the sink. She began to run hot water into the sink -- with a squirt of Fairy liquid -- and while it filled up, fetched out the elaborate Belgian chocolate gâteaux.

Dense, fragrant and such a dark chocolate they were almost black, the two individual desserts looked like pure sin. It was all Alex could do, plating them, not to lick her fingers. Yum.

At the sound of running water, Gene made his way over to the kitchen, and sidled up behind Alex, wrapping an arm around her wiast, and rested his chin on her shoulder. "You know, if I die of a chocolate overdose, you'll be guilty?"

He gave a chuckle against her shoulder. "So, want some help with the washing up before or after you murder me?"

It felt shockingly good and right to be held like that. To be so close to him, to feel his breath on her skin. Alex closed her eyes to just savor the closeness for a minute.

"I was just going to put them into soak. We can sort out washing up properly later," she demured.

"Right, good. And just so you know, if I do die of chocolate overdose, you can have the Quattro. But no fuzzy dice and no girly air fresheners."

Gene talked about death as if the truth was still a million miles away from his knowledge. His heart beat, he breathed, he felt. Just because it wasn't the 'real world' who's right was it to say it was unreal?