A/N: This was originally a one-shot but the story then started unfolding in my head and so i carried on : based a good few months after the end of series one. There are spoilers for ep8 in case you don't know what happened!! It's angst-tastic, so bear with me! Please review, even if you think it's silly! ADULT CONTENT also, in certain chapters.

HUGE thanks to Handymelon for superb beta-ing and making me giggle a lot with her comments. Dedicated to the Hunt's Housewives and everyone propping up the bar in Luigi's – love yas!

KoB X

Dreaming the Future

CID was in semi darkness. The checkerboard ceiling lights were all switched off and only the glow from Gene Hunt's desk lamp was visible, throwing shadows of the DCI on the wall behind him as he sat poring over long-overdue paperwork. His head rested on the knuckles of his right hand, and in his left he lazily spun a tumbler of single malt.

He glanced at his watch. 1 a.m.

He sighed. "Flamin' ell," he muttered, leaning back in his chair and rubbing his eyes. He often stayed late in the office, coming back there after a few drinks at Luigi's with the team. There was little to go home to really, no marriage bed into which he could crawl and leave the Manc Lion behind. And so he found himself, ensconced in his den, staring at his reflection in the redundant computer screen.

His gaze fell on an empty glass, sitting on top of a pile of manila folders. He and his DI had shared a drink earlier that day: she had fainted in his office and he had offered the usual remedy from his cabinet. He remembered how he had watched in horror as her face turned a deathly white, a light sweat breaking on her brow as her legs crumpled beneath her. Her pupils wide and breath shallow, she had called out a jumble of words, only one of which he could make out. "Molly".

He had leapt out from behind his desk and caught her, gently lowering her body to the floor and yelling for Shaz to fetch a cold flannel. Moments later, Alex Drake had come to, but her eyes were hazy and her hands shook as he helped her gingerly into a chair. When she was strong enough, he had deposited her at her flat with strict instructions to stay there and rest.

This hadn't been the first time either. In the weeks since her unconventional arrival in his department he had witnessed many occasions when he wondered for her health and indeed, her sanity. But she was a strong and brilliant woman, so full of passion. He secretly loved these moments when, in flashes of blazing anger, her hazel eyes would spark and her chin would jut out in defiance. She gave him a run for his money and it inflamed him.

He could hear distant noise from the front desk, where the night shift coppers were dealing with the odd drunk and disorderly between crosswords and cups of tea. Suddenly he heard the CID door open and watched through the blinds as a dark figure made its way across the office to the small kitchen. Then came the sound of cupboards being opened and closed.

Gene pushed his chair back and walked out into the office. "Hello?" he called out in the direction of the kitchen. He stepped around the corner to see Alex's posterior sticking out from behind the fridge door. In tight denim, it really was a sight to behold. Gene leaned in the doorway, admiring the view.

Rummaging done with, the rest of Alex's body appeared; she held a bottle of milk in one hand. Startled by the sight of her DCI in the half-light, she yelped and stepped backwards, the bottle falling from her hand and shattering on the floor. A pool of white crept silently between them.

"For God's sake Gene!" Alex gasped, "What the hell are you doing standing there?" She had clearly not long awoken, her curls were relaxed and her eye make-up slightly smudged.

"I could ask much the same of you Bolly! Creeping about in my office in the middle of the night in the dark!" His voice was gruff, but he wasn't angry. Quite the opposite in fact – she looked beautiful and was a very welcome sight in the drudgery of his sleepless night.

Alex turned and switched the kettle on. She opened a cupboard and took out a second cup, placing it on the counter next to the one already sitting there. She faced Gene and raised her eyebrows.

"Yeah, ta" he said.

Alex popped a tea bag into the cup and leaned back on the edge of the sink, parting her legs slightly to steady herself. This movement did not go unnoticed by her DCI, who stifled a groan at the thoughts now invading his mind. "So?" he questioned.

"I woke up on my couch in the middle of a rather gruesome nightmare and couldn't get back to sleep… I don't suppose a triple measure of Scotch is the best cure for a fainting fit after all," she sighed. A pause. "Anyway, I figured I might as well come across here and do something productive with my time…" her sentence trailed off, as she was suddenly struck by how handsome he looked. His face had a dishevelled weariness about it, his dark blonde hair slipping over one side of his forehead, untrimmed sideburns and his trademark pout. Her eyes rested on his lips for a moment longer than they should have, then fell lower to his loosened tie and undone shirt buttons.

Gene watched her. He thought to himself at this very moment she looked like a star that was about to burn out and fall in on itself. He wanted desperately to touch her, as if somehow that would make her alive again.

"What about you?" Alex handed him a cup of black tea. "How come you're not with the others at Luigi's? They were singing ABBA when I came by…" Her eyes twinkled and she held a hand up to her mouth to unsuccessfully suppress a giggle. "Y'know, I have my doubts about our Ray…"

"Christ, that's all we need!" Gene grumbled.

He slurped his tea then clutched the mug in both hands. "Look Bols, are you okay?" Gene looked at the floor. "I mean, earlier…. erm, that didn't seem like a… er, normal fainting." He tried, and failed, to conceal the tender concern in his voice.

Alex frowned slightly. "Gene," she began. There was a slight tremor that made him look up immediately. She paused, then let out a long sigh. "You really wouldn't believe me… what's the use?"

His eyes met hers. He wanted to push it, to get to the bottom of this mystery. He longed to know why Alex seemed like she came from another planet half the time and why she had requested a transfer to his branch, leaving her daughter behind. But he didn't press further. All in good time, he thought. Lighten the mood Gene… Hmm. He finally spoke. "I s'pose we should clear this up eh?"

Alex handed him a cloth from the sink behind her, watching him as he knelt and mopped up the milk and picked up the shards of glass. She gazed at the top of his head, fighting back inappropriate thoughts. She felt safe with him, but she knew he could be dangerous and this excited her.

Gene's eyes travelled the length of Alex's body as he stood up again. He placed the glass in the bin then moved beside her to rinse the cloth in the sink. She didn't move out of his way and he didn't ask her to. Tiny electric shocks waged war on her as she felt his warmth next to her and caught his familiar scent of cigarillos and Christmas-gift aftershave.

"You know I dreamt the strangest thing th'other night Bolly." Gene said, as he washed and dried his hands.

Alex stuck out her jaw. She was curious as to where this was going.

"I don't usually remember dreams. Hell, I'm normally too 'alf-cut to 'ave any," he added as he hung the towel back in its place "But this one were really… odd."

He was still standing right next to her, leaning with his left hand on the counter. His face was close to hers, his voice low, as though he was about to say something he was a little ashamed of. He half-smiled at her. "Maybe your psychiatry bollocks can get to the bottom of it."

Alex opened her mouth to correct him, but realised he was winding her up deliberately. She pursed her lips. "Go on…"

"I were 'ere in London, but it was… I dunno, some 'ow different …"

The DI watched him with interest.

He continued, "All the cars were silver and black. Well, I mean there was the odd white one, the odd red one. But mostly silver and black. And they were all rounded. Not like old fashioned cars, or modern ones, er, I mean… aaah, bollocks."

"What happened in the dream?"

"Well, nothing much. It was more the feel of it." He was aware he was sounding like a right poof now. He moved back from Alex slightly. "All the people were talking, but not to each other. They had earpieces, like, I dunno, pilots. And tiny white boxes in their hands with wires going into their ears."

Alex's eyes widened as Gene almost perfectly described iPods. They wouldn't be invented for another 30 years.

"Please go on Gene…"

He started to smile slightly. "Well there was one funny moment. Some twonk, dressed up like Batman 'ad climbed up onto Buckingham Palace. Plod were in a right state."

By now, Alex's heart was racing… she knew exactly what he was talking about. A publicity stunt in 2007. How could Gene have dreamt that? This was a new twist in her coma-induced subconscious world, she thought. She wanted to know more.

"What did London look like?" Her voice shook a little and Gene noticed. He looked concerned.

"Bols, I dunno. It was clean. The air was clean, the river was… clean. Forget about it, it was just a stupid dream." He moved closer to her again. Alex looked at him. Our connection is deepening. She had known for some time now, since that terrible day she'd had to witness her parent's death and her own abandonment all over again. The verbal sparring and drunken flirting had continued, but then there was something more. And now? He was dreaming her future.

His heart was beating faster now. If ever there was a moment he wanted to kiss her it was now, but he was unsure if he was reading it all wrong. She looked tired and vulnerable before him and there was a question in her eyes he knew he could never answer. He would leave now and go home, tell her to do the same. He made to move away from her.

Alex watched him. She knew he would not have the answers to all the millions of ifs and hows and whys in her head, but he was the most real thing she had right now. She saw the tiniest glimpse of vulnerability in his eyes, swiftly followed by the stoicism she knew would make him walk away from her if she didn't stop him.

As he moved apart from her, she instinctively reached out a hand and clasped it around his wrist. "Gene…"

He looked down at his arm. He looked at her fingers holding on to him and his stomach lurched as though he was standing on the edge of a very tall building. His mind raced and yet words would not come to him. He clenched his jaw and slipped his wrist from her grasp, sliding the palm of his hand under hers and lacing their fingers together. He suddenly felt he had come home.

Alex swallowed hard and in happy defeat asked him, "Will you stay with me tonight?"