A/N: This is a kind of a side project that I wanted to write alongside my other A2A fics. In my third fic, 'Strangers When We Meet', the character of Kim first appeared but she'd already been in Gene's world for a few months by that point, already been through a trauma discovering what happened to a missing sibling and gone through all kinds of trouble getting lured by Keats by the time Simon and Robin arrived and the story began. I had always had Kim's backstory in my mind and always intended to write it at some point. Well, I've decided to write it now.

In a change to the rest of my stories I've decided to write this one in the first person as Kim telling the story through her own eyes. It will start with her arrival in the Geneverse, telling about her first few months, working with Gene and Alex, and then give a retelling of Strangers and Whispering from Kim's point of view. I've never written in first person before so I'm a bit nervous about this!

Expect it to be updated more sporadically and in shorter bursts than my other stories. I hope you enjoy it!

~xXx~

Prologue

I'm writing this in the hope that you might understand why I've done what I've done. It's so hard to explain but it was a choice that I had to make. There's so much of my life that you don't know, that I've had to keep hidden. But there comes a time when worlds collide and the secrets are destined to come out. I want to tell you this in my own words because there will be so many lies and mistruths coming out. Please listen to my story and try to put yourself in my place.

I had never really wanted to do anything else. As far back as I could remember I wanted to join the force. To make a difference. Watching the police and detectives in action during a family crisis in my late teens sealed the deal for me. As soon as I was old enough I applied and got in. Spent my two years on the beat, couldn't believe it when I made it to CID. I felt like my life was complete. They say work to live, not live to work… it was the other way round for me. I loved what I was doing and my promotion to DS was a total dream come true.

I didn't have much room for anything in my life but my job. My girlfriend Sandra and I were never romance of the year material. I'd never really been in a relationship before her. Fun and sex were fine, I just couldn't get bogged down with the relationship stuff. Sandra and I never gave each other enough time. I loved her, but that's not the same as being in love. I was kind of in love with my job though.

I remember the night it happened like it was yesterday. Two men robbing a young woman late at night – it made my blood boil. They'd been targeting the vulnerable – young women on their own, old biddies, science fiction fans, that kind of thing, waiting around cashpoints and following them home. But this one night they'd picked on the wrong woman and she fought back. Got her throat slashed for the trouble. It became a hell of a lot more serious from then on.

There was a helicopter. They'd caught the suspects in its search light at one point but they got away again. That's when I saw them, heading towards the park. I just gave chase, didn't even think about myself. All I could think about were the people whose lives they'd destroyed by taking away their safety and security.

I grabbed my radio and yelled, "Suspects heading into park, main road entrance,"

I heard my DI come on the radio.

"DS Stringer, this is DI Matthews, requesting you cease pursuit of suspects and wait for uniform back up. Member of the public reports seeing one man in possession of a knife. Repeat, you are to cease pursuit immediately."

I was already in the park by now. Too late to do anything else. But when I looked around there was no sign of the bastards so I got back on the radio and said,

"Lost visual trace of suspects, they've disappeared somewhere inside the park."

It all happened so quickly after that. I can't really place some of it. That's where my memory starts to wane. I remember the hands that grabbed me from behind, right around my neck. It's funny, but I remember at that point feeling strangely calm. I didn't panic. It wasn't until the other man appeared and flicked the blade of his knife out in front of me that I felt the fear. I could hear my own voice shrieking but I don't remember actually screaming. I remember begging, pleading with them to stop. It wasn't like they were ever going to listen. There was only ever going to be one course of action.

I remember the pain as the knife sank into my stomach. It was almost as though it was so bad that the pain went to another layer of my consciousness, almost like I wasn't really feeling it. I was somewhere else. I knew the pain was there but it wasn't really registering. I knew what was happening though as I dropped to the ground. I could actually feel my life fading away. This is it, I thought. Game over.

I remember closing my eyes and feeling depressed that the last thing I was ever going to see was the bloody caretaker's shed. I lay there, my senses slowly fading out, and then things just seemed to disappear.

They say your life flashes before your eyes before you die. Well I'm glad mine didn't. It would have been this bloody long string of overtime and work. Maybe the occasional snog or one night stand thrown in. I don't remember anything after fading out until I was aware of the music playing. God, it was loud. I mean, I've done my fair share of nightclubs but this was something else. And it was hot… so hot. The atmosphere was thick and fuggy. I tried to open my eyes but they felt so heavy and it took me so long to focus.

The blur of movement as people danced like idiots all around me was insane. I tried to sit up but I felt a little woozy and I couldn't get my bearings. As I slowly pulled myself upright I found myself in a warehouse. The strobe lighting made my eyes hurt and the volume of Higher State of Consciousness was just about killing my ears off too, but what really got me were the bloody acid house smiley faces all over the place. Where the hell was I? It had to be some kind of theme party. Tacky 90s Party or something. Oh god, the fluorescence – It was so bad it was almost funny, but the situation definitely wasn't.

I'd been so shocked by what I saw that I only just remembered that I'd been stabbed. I gasped and clutched my stomach, waiting for the pain to filter through, feeling for blood but there wasn't any. I looked down. I don't know what surprised me more, the fact that my wound had disappeared or the fact that I was wearing a fluorescent yellow jacket.

I started to spin around, just trying to work out where I was, looking all around me, desperate for answers or at least an exit when suddenly the doors flew open and the music died. Figures started to filter through, some in uniforms and others in plain clothes. As they marched inside and began to round up the dancing masses my eyes were drawn to was one man standing in the doorway, his long coat casting a silhouette over the whole place like some sort of strange and ragged enigma. I shielded my eyes as the lights came up and struggled to hear what the cops were saying but my ears were ringing so much that I couldn't make most of it out. It wasn't until the enigma stepped out of the doorway and into the warehouse that I finally heard a word.

He paced through the building, looked at the crowd and took out a flask of something highly alcoholic. After taking a very long swig he screwed on the cap and turned to the crowd.

"Hope you've all got clean pants on, boys and girls. Gene Hunt will not be impressed by the presence of skiddies." He looked up and down the wall of faces. "We need yer names, yer date of birth and yer best excuse for listening to this ear-splitting pile of shit."

I thought a knife in the guts was the end of everything.

As it turned out, it was just the beginning.