Prologue

With a click, the theme tune to Merry Christmas Mr Lawrence awoke the sleeping Alex as she dozed peacefully, nuzzled somewhere between Gene's arm and his chest. She let the music filter through to her dream for a few moments before she could not deny any longer that it was coming from her alarm clock rather than from the marching band she'd been dreaming about who appeared to have suddenly 'mellowed out' with their music of preference.

One eye opened. There she was in the freshly painted room; the new purple walls surrounding them. The dustsheets were still draped across the bed hiding the duvet and they'd slept in a stinky room all night but their exhaustion had sent them quickly to sleep and they hadn't even noticed the fumes.

She groaned as she tried to free herself from the large, hairy arm that pinned her down.

"No Gene, got to get up," she mumbled as she tried desperately to move it again. This time it budged a couple of inches, enough for her to come up for air and approach the alarm clock beside her. She frowned as soon as she saw the time. "Gene," she prodded him and he groaned lightly. "Gene!"

"What?" he muttered.

"It's half past six," Alex said crossly.

"Hello half past six, nice to meet you," Gene mumbled and pulled the duvet and dust sheets up a little higher.

"We forgot to change the alarm," Alex continued, "its Sunday, we were supposed to lie in today."

"Then tell half past six to bugger off and come back here," Gene told her, his eyes still tightly closed.

Alex sighed and switched off the alarm clock but a heartbeat before she slipped back into bed she froze and frowned.

"That's odd," she said.

"We painted 'em yesterday, walls are s'posed to be that colour," Gene mumbled into his pillow.

"No, I meant the music," Alex frowned, "that's an odd thing for them to play on this station." She was right. Where were the current 90s hits and vibrant pop tunes? She switched the radio back on and slipped beneath the covers to listen to the end of the song. She closed her eyes contentedly and gave a gentle sigh,

"I love this film," she said

"It's a song," Gene muttered, still half asleep.

Alex rolled her eyes and turned to him, wrapping an arm around his torso.

"No, the film this comes from," she said, "Merry Christmas Mr Lawrence."

"I hate that film," Gene told her, "It's got David Bowie in it."

Alex frowned.

"So?"

"Well whenever one of you lot turns up from two thousand and bollocks you make a habit of singing his greatest bloody hits!" Gene told her, "Got bad associations now."

"Oh thanks a lot!" Alex slapped him cheekily on the chest and nuzzled back against him to listen to the music but just a moment later the track cut out to silence which brought Alex's eyes wide open once again. "What happened?" she said quickly as she turned to look at the radio, half expecting a power cut, but the numbers were still lit up on the display and a moment later a serious and sombre voice began to speak.

"This is independent Radio News. The death of Diana, Princess of Wales has been confirmed in Paris."

All at once a shiver the size of an earthquake travelled down Alex's spine. She swallowed softly as she felt herself shake just a little. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears as she stared at the date on the calendar beside her bed in quiet disbelief

"My god," she whispered, "how could I have forgotten?" Her tongue ran around her lips as she moved out of Gene's arms to turn to him, "Gene I'm sorry, this… I didn't remember…"

Gene seemed frozen on the spot, his eyes focused on nothing in particular as he listened carefully to the rest of the announcement.

"Buckingham Palace confirmed earlier this morning that the Princess had died following a car crash in Paris."

"Gene," Alex whispered again. He finally looked at her, his face clearly shocked by the news. "I didn't remember this... how could I forget?"

Strangely still and sombre, Gene couldn't even reply. He wasn't sure why the news had bowled him over in the way that it had but he couldn't seem to stop listening to the shocking words over the airwaves. As the bulletin ended and another piece of music began Alex felt someone gripping her hand. She looked at Gene who seemed extremely shocked.

"I, uh," he cleared his throat, "sometimes I forget that people die."

Alex knew what he meant. The rest of the world wasn't simply made up of drones, of nobodies that had no place in their lives. The people were as real as their counterparts in the world from which Alex and the others had come. She squeezed his hand back and felt another shudder travel down her spine that left every hair on her body tingling. The day of Diana's passing had been strange enough the first time around. Now she had to live it for a second time.

"Gene?" she said quietly, "are you OK?"

Gene nodded but his expression contorted with a look of confusion and shock that Alex wasn't used to seeing. He hauled his bulk up in the bed and rubbed the remainder of sleep from his eyes. Their lie-in was over. He was wide awake.

"What we need," he began stiffly, "is a sodding big barrel of coffee." He twisted around and slipped out of bed, rummaging in their discarded clothes for his underpants. It didn't seem respectful to show his hairy backside off on the day of the death of a princess. "I'm switching to eight sugars," he decided and slowly slumped from the bedroom with a sympathetic glance from Alex trailing behind him.

Alex couldn't blame Gene for being so shocked. Whether you liked her or not, whether you were a royalist or not, there was no escaping the fact that Diana had been a most prominent figure and the news had come so undoubtedly out of the blue. Alex closed her eyes as she remembered the day the first time around; watching the news, reading the special edition of the Sunday papers, trying to understand what was happening to the country. It was like no other day on record. Yet now she was living it for a second time.

"It's going to be a very strange day," she murmured to herself with a deep sigh, "again."

~xXx~

A/N: So where were you when you heard the news? Actually, I know a lot of you are too young to remember but the day Princess Diana died is one of the most vivid memories I have, waking up to strange music on the radio, interrupted by the last news I had been expecting.

This fic follows immediately on from The Drugs Don't Work and it's going to be a fairly short one. The rating will rise to M in later chapters. Also, please, please don't be offended by any poor taste jokes that Gene makes, the views expressed by the characters do not necessarily represent the views of the writer! :D

Thank you so much for following this series of stories, I hope you enjoy this fic – it'll be a little different to usual. Clearly by now you know I don't own A2A, nor do I own any members of the royal family incidentally. At least I hope not. If I find Prince Charles in my bathtub I'm going to be majorly pissed.