Going to the pub

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(I don't own any part of Ashes to Ashes)

'You're quite a woman.' Gene told Alex, his head inclining as he attempted to light his cigarette in a brisk wind and swearing because it wasn't happening. He sidestepped into a shop doorway, his thumb working his lighter determinedly until the end of his cigarette glowed red.

'Thank you' Alex replied.

Gene exited the shop doorway, his black coat grazing her white leather jacket as he passed her, and began striding along the rubbish strewn street, trailing white smoke in his wake, '….compliment' his voice drifted back.

'Sorry?' Alex caught up and fell into stride beside him.

He gave her a cursory glance, 'I said, it wasn't meant as a compliment.' he rapped, 'Bloody woman, you can rub me up the wrong way without even opening your gob.'

Alex glared at her DCI, on the brink of stomping away, then she realised she couldn't. This wasn't her home turf, they were in Manchester after Litton had called Gene with a tip off and they had headed north on the wildest of goose chases after a villain who had disappeared into thin air.

'Need a drink' Gene pouted.

'Nothing new there then.' Alex remarked. 'This isn't the way back to the hotel is it?'

'God -you're not a detective for nothing are yer Dozy knickers?' Gene gave her the sarkiest of smiles and increased his pace, nostrils twitching like a hound scenting a fox.

'Why does every one of your fond pet names for me have to have knickers tagged on to the end?' Alex asked huffily.

'Because, Bollykeks, I think about your knickers a lot.' Gene replied, his eyes changing colour in the most disturbing way.

Alex stabbed her hands into the pockets of her jeans and tried to look disapproving, 'Well, don't' she ordered, before asking, 'Where are we going?'

'I'm taking you to the pub.' he told her, as they made a sharp left and a pub called the Railway Arms came into view.

'Right.' she smiled bravely, something about the place made her shudder but Gene looked about as near to ecstatic as she had ever seen him. Ever the gentleman, he stomped through the door first leaving her to trail behind him.

As they entered the entire pub fell silent and each of the punters turned to stare at them.

Oh good thought Alex, friendly locals.

'Mon brav!' the West Indian behind the bar looked almost as delighted as Gene.

The freeze frame ended and the occupants of the dowdy pub began talking and drinking again, panic over.

'Don't tell me' Alex muttered as they squeezed to the bar, 'the best bitter in Manchester.'

Gene shrugged,' It's usually shit if you must know. May have improved' he briefly shook the landlord's hand, 'Nelson! Pint of bitter and a glass of red wine for the lady.'

'Vodka and tonic' Alex said loudly, 'With ice and lemon- if you have it.'

'Whatever' Gene looked pained, 'This, Nelson, is my current DI, Alex Drake- or Bolly Knickers, as I like to call her, very hard to please.'

.

'So' Alex said a few minutes later when they were seated at a table right on the flight path of the dart board, 'This is you.'

Gene didn't reply, just lit another cigarette and swallowed more beer.

Alex ploughed on, 'Your natural habitat.'

'Mistaking me for a bloody monkey now.' he said under his breath.

'Gorilla more like.' Alex replied equally quietly. She tried a different tack. 'You must miss it.'

Still no reply, but she saw him catch Nelson's eye and seconds later another beer and a whiskey chaser arrived. Nelson twinkled at her, trying to put her at ease, 'More Vodka, Alex?'

'Why not?' she nodded gratefully, before studying Gene again.

'I feel like a ruddy specimen in a lab' he barked after long seconds had passed, 'Why am I so interesting suddenly?'

'I don't know, I suppose I'd never thought of you outside Fenchurch, your life before. Seeing you now, so at home in here, 'Alex paused to return the filthy look he was giving her, 'Don't look like that, for God's Sake! I'm only saying! You asked me a question and I'm answering it.'

'I came in here for a quiet pint.' Gene said.

Alex rolled her eyes, 'Yes and this is a man's pub so I shouldn't be in here, I don't fit in.'

'Women come in here.' protested Gene, 'Just not women like you.'

'What d you mean, women like me?' she tried to stop herself rolling her eyes again and failed.

'Posh birds like you.' he accused, 'in here you mostly get good honest down to earth types with huge….'

'You bloody cliché!' fumed Alex.

'Fuck me, I like tits, like a trillion other men on the planet, What's wrong with that for Christ's Sake?' Gene grabbed a discarded Daily Mirror, opened it and held it up high. Two grey - blue eyes peered angrily over the top of it, 'I'm here for the duration; like it or lump it.'

'You can't drink anymore, we have to get back to London tonight.' Alex said.

'Don't tell me what to do!' his voice from behind the paper was dangerously low and threatening, and a hand shot out, grabbing the scotch, seconds later the empty glass was slammed back onto the table.

Alex knew people were watching them and felt her face flush, he was right of course, she didn't belong there, she was the fidgety uncomfortable one. He would be quite happy sitting there all afternoon with his pint and the paper, chatting to the dart players and Nelson, catching up on the gossip.

'Look' she said in a placating tone, 'I'll go back to the hotel, tell them we're staying another night….'

'Gene!' a silky voice cut through the fog of cigarette smoke, 'It is you! Thought it was.'

Alex swivelled her head and found herself nose to chest with Gene's fantasy woman. She looked up. Straight long blonde hair; not peroxide blonde, but completely natural, denoting Swedish origins maybe? But that must have been generations ago as her accent was unadulterated Manc. Slim hips and a generous, comforting bosom, and worst of all, a flawless, scrubbed complexion, palest pink lips and frosty blue eyes.

Gene lowered the paper, 'Dixie.' his voice was flat, resigned, as if she was inevitable.

'You could pretend to be pleased to see me even if you're not.' Dixie told him.

'Dixie!' Gene said with more feeling, 'How are you?'

'Going to introduce us?' Dixie looked down at Alex and a sliver of ice changed her expression almost imperceptibly.

'Dixie meet Alex.' Gene said, he widened his eyes at Alex pointedly, 'My wife.'

Alex choked on her vodka, she hadn't expected Gene's wife to look anything like this woman- and hang on…. his wife wasn't called Dixie- she was sure…

'Your wife!' Dixie spluttered, peering at Alex, and taking in her ringless wedding finger, 'You're kidding!.'

'Yes it was a whirlwind romance' Gene said, giving 'back me up or you're dead' looks to Alex, 'We met and sort of knew it was…er ….the er… thing.'

'Yes the real thing' gushed Alex breathlessly, 'We are sublimely, blissfully, happy aren't we darling?' she grabbed Gene's hand and held it to her cheek.

A couple of the locals who had been privy to Gene and Alex's earlier exchanges stifled laughter, ' Explains everything- married' one laughed.

'Knew it' the other replied.

Dixie plonked her hands on her hips and stared from Alex to Gene, she spoke in a low voice, 'Well I can see why he would marry you' she conceded, after giving Alex a thorough once over, 'but why would you want him as a husband? Lover- yes- I can understand that' she winked at Alex, 'Something else in the sack, isn't he?'

Alex, feeling very near hysteria, jammed her mouth into a smile and nodded frantically, dropping Gene's hand; suddenly horrendously delicious and forbidden fantasies were crowding her head. Something else in the sack! No she wouldn't even go there.

Gene was smirking and Alex wondered if he could read her mind. She clutched her vodka, feeling hot and uncomfortable.

'So how about you Dix?' Gene asked, 'Met the right man yet?'

Dixie shook her head and looked wistful, 'Missed the boat with him I guess.'

'Men are like buses' chirped Alex, 'Miss one and another three turn up in no time.'

Dixie gave her an odd look, 'Er yeah, guess so. Oh well, my latest has just arrived' she nodded at a tall bespectacled man who funnily enough looked very like Gene except for the bins.

'Brainy?' Gene asked.

'Not especially- well hung though.' replied Dixie, 'look after yourself' she said as the man saw her and waved.

'And you' Gene nodded.

When Dixie was on the other side of the pub and out of hearing distance, Gene raised the Daily Mirror again as though nothing had occurred.

'Wife!' Alex breathed, trying not to attract any unwanted attention.

'Quiet !' ordered Gene from behind the paper, 'Just sit and imagine it.'

'Doesn't bear thinking about.' Alex whispered.

Nelson brought yet more drinks. Gene laid the paper on the table and took his pen out, filling in a couple of crossword clues.

'So- should I go back to the hotel and tell them we're staying?' fidgeted Alex.

'11 down, Agitated, eight letters, second letter 'e' eighth letter 's' ' he frowned.

'Restless' Alex said immediately.

'Apt' Gene raised an eyebrow, 'You need a hobby Bolls, or something to tire you out. Don't you ever just relax and let the world float by?'

'I need a hobby.' Alex leaned forward, 'that's rich coming from someone who has none-no social life, no interests at all except smoking, drinking and perving over large- chested women.'

'I have never perved.' Gene said tightly, his eyes locked with hers, 'I have an over active imagination, especially where you're concerned, I'll give you that, but I have never perved. Never needed to.'

'Yes well…..' Alex fiddled with the zip on her jacket.

'And how do you know I don't have hobbies?' Gene leaned forward too, 'I have football, and I'm very interested in ancient Egyptian artefacts.'

'Are you?' she sounded shocked.

'No' he said. 'Hungry?' he asked seductively.

'H..h..hungry?' Alex stuttered, suddenly aware how close their mouths were.

'Yes- hungry' he repeated wickedly, 'Fancy a pickled egg or a bag of crisps?'

'Er no thanks' Alex hated the fact she was flustered and blushing.

'Something more substantial?' his mouth moved even closer to hers. 'More satisfying?'

'Hmm-depends' she babbled, backing off.

'Bet you wish you were back in Luigi's tucking in to one of his convoluted concoctions instead of slumming it here with me.' Gene sighed, 'Alright- go back to the hotel, tell them we're staying another night, then I can get pissed out of my skull and all my woes will dissolve away.'

'What woes?' Alex scoffed. 'I haven't seen any woes, you always seem perfectly happy in your bigoted, chauvinistic, scotch - soaked little world.'

'Good- off you trot then Fancyknickers.' he dismissed her in the way that always made her seethe.

She stood up and walked across the pub to the public phone, dialling one of the Taxi Cab firms that had left a card there, and ordered a taxi to pick her up and take her back to the hotel. She could have a nice long bath, and a decent glass of wine, maybe read another chapter of her Colin Dexter. As she hung up the phone she just happened to glance over at Gene, expecting him to be head down over the Daily Mirror, he was making such a meal of reading it you'd think it was the Sunday Times and all the supplements; but as she looked, she caught him looking back, and also caught the expression of utterly hopeless longing on his face before he hid it away rapidly.

She gave a tiny shy smile and walked back over to him, 'Ten minutes for the taxi'

He nodded.

'Gene?' she took a deep breath.

'What?' he muttered; the crossword was almost complete.

Alex leaned down, and a couple of his blonde hairs tickled her face as she whispered in his ear, 'Shall I book one room or two?'

oxxo

TBC- probably with M rating :)