Disclaimer: I don't own Ashes to Ashes or the characters. BBC, Monastic and Kudos hold that distinction.

This started off as a fluffy little one-shot for Mothering Sunday, but has evolved into something slightly longer (two chapters), rather angstier, and altogether deeper. It's also become the prequel to "Ashes to Ashes: Loss and Gain" (on the Collators' Den, see my profile for details) and its sequel, "Ashes to Ashes: Stravagation". I always felt that I was cheating a bit in "Loss and Gain" by not explaining how Gene and Alex first got together. Read on to find out...

Chapter 1 is still a bit rough around the edges. Because I wanted to post it today, I've been working on it like a demon to get it finished in time. I'll have a bit more time to polish Chapter 2 before posting.

In line with my original intention, this fic is dedicated to mothers everywhere.

Whether or not you're a mother, please read and review!

Her boy was coming home.

Not for good, of course - he had his own life, far away in London. But for the first time since he had transferred there, he was coming back to Manchester for a short visit, and he had promised his Mam that he would look in on her.

Mary Hunt was proud of her son. True, he had made some bad mistakes in his life, but given what his childhood had been, she was honestly surprised that there had not been more. Stuart had been unable to endure it, had buckled and succumbed, and the ache in her heart for him would never leave her. But Gene had succeeded in his chosen career, had triumphed, had grown stronger with everything that life - and his Dad - had managed to throw at him. Until the death of his best friend, closely followed by an unpleasant divorce, had made him run away from everything he had ever known.

She had come to know young Sam well, and had recognised him as a good influence on her headstrong son. He had been like another brother to Gene, and almost like another son to her. He had appeared to have no family - she had asked him about his parents once, and he had replied sadly, "My dad's gone. I hope my mum's still alive, but I'll never see her again." While not altogether understanding his words, she had recognised a pain similar to what she and her sons had known. She knew that she could never replace his lost family, but she had always tried to make him feel that he had a second mother in her. For her, his death had brought back the pain of Stuart's loss all over again. It had knocked the centre out of Gene's world and left a void that it seemed nothing could replace. As to the divorce - well, if the truth were told, that had been waiting to happen for a long time. Even Mary was forced to acknowledge that he had not always treated Alice well, but there had been faults on both sides. She had accepted Alice, but had never particularly liked her. All the same, her leaving, and the manner of it, had been a shock after all these years.

So Gene had gone to London, and Mary missed him fiercely. In one of his all too infrequent phone calls since his departure, he had mentioned that he now had a female DI, a posh bird with whom he appeared to be perpetually at loggerheads. Not that that was anything new, she thought, fondly remembering his accounts of his frequent quarrels with Sam. Reading between the lines, she could tell that he respected this new DI even when he disagreed with her, and considering his usual attitude towards women that was little short of a miracle. Alice had let Gene go too much his own way and enabled him to do without her. He needed a woman like this new DI, who was prepared to stand up to him.

Now he was returning to Manchester to interview a suspect, and he was bringing the DI with him. Mary couldn't wait to meet her. Perhaps this would be the right girl for her Gene at last.

-oO0Oo-

Gene wondered for the hundredth time, just how he had managed to get himself into this predicament. It had all started when Two-Way Albie, a member of Simon Neary's merry men who had escaped last year's roundup, was arrested in Manchester. Neary's trial was starting soon, and the man had got himself a clever lawyer. Any additional evidence that Albie could be induced to provide, might be vital in strengthening the prosecution's case. Gene had initially hoped that Albie could be charged and tried along with the rest of Neary's gang, but the arrest in Manchester had been for serious nonce offences - his nickname came from the fact that, as Gene succinctly put it, "'e's the only member of Neary's team who scores for both sides" - and GMP weren't going to give him up. Reluctantly, Gene had accepted that he would have to travel to Manchester to interview GMP's collar.

He hadn't wanted to go back there, the wounds were still too fresh. Still, if he started in the early morning, drove up before the traffic got too bad, and interviewed Albie and received the files as soon as he arrived, he would escape the GMP building before he could bump into any inopportune old acquantances, look in on Mam, and drive back in time to order a round at Luigi's. Simple.

It got more complicated when he realised that he would have to take Alex with him. He knew that any evidence obtained from Albie would be worthless unless the interview was conducted by the book. Two officers would have to be present at all times. There was no point in using a GMP officer as they were not acquainted with the Neary case and Albie's offences in Manchester were not related to it. Alex was the obvious person from his team to accompany him. Marcus Johnstone had, very courageously, been working with the police since Neary's arrest. It was Alex who had won the boy's trust, and he had given her a lot of useful information. If any of it proved to be linked to anything that Albie could tell them, Alex would be the one to pick it up.

He was looking forward to strolling into his old office with Alex, enjoying his former colleagues' admiring, envious glances at him with this beautiful woman by his side, their surmises as to how long it had taken him to get her into the sack. Mam was a different matter. He could not leave without seeing her - God knew when he would be back in Manchester, if ever - and in an unguarded moment he'd mentioned that his new DI was coming with him. If he didn't bring Alex along to meet her, Mam would be both disappointed and highly offended. She had always been so fond of Sam. But if he turned up on her doorstep with Alex, he knew, he just knew Mam would get the wrong end of the stick. She would assume that Alex was his girlfriend, and an hour later she would have married them off and settled them in a suburban semi with three kids. He broke out in a cold sweat at the thought of the all-round embarrassment that would ensue.

He might be able to pick her up with one hand, but his Mam was the only woman of whom Gene Hunt stood thoroughly in awe. As long as he lived he would never forget what she had endured at his father's hands, and how she had tried, vainly, to shelter him and Stu from the worst of it. He still dreamt sometimes of hearing her screams and the sound of blows falling on flesh. Once or twice it had been so vivid that he had woken up and jumped out of bed, ready to rush to her rescue. That was when he wasn't dreaming about the blows raining down on his own defenceless, eight-year-old body, or on five-year-old Stu's. The people who decried him for being hard hadn't any idea of how hard all three of them had had to be, simply in order to survive. His Dad kept every penny he earned to take to the pub, but he still considered it Mam's duty to ensure that there was food on the table whenever he wanted it, and if she ever failed to provide it, his revenge was terrible. She took cleaning jobs in secret to earn enough to feed them all, knowing that if he found out, he would take the money and beat her for deceiving him. Then he did find out, and he struck her so hard that she fell and broke her arm. Her sisters urged her to go to the police, but she refused. If her husband was jailed, she might not be able to keep the family together. Life was hard in those post-war years, and she knew that nobody in her family would be able to take on either of her boys, let alone both. So she went to the hospital, claiming that she had fallen downstairs, and that was the end of the cleaning jobs until her arm healed. Gene and Stu took to seeking scraps of food in the streets. A kindly local baker got them to run errands in exchange for stale bread and cakes which would otherwise have been thrown away, and the aunts slipped them food and the occasional sixpence or shilling whenever they could. When Mam's arm was better, her jobs had gone to other people, and she had had to start again. Which she did, frail, battered, indomitable. So the torment had gone on, until Gene and Stu were old enough to fight back. After they'd beaten Dad to a pulp the first time, he'd left them, and Mam, alone.

Then there was the problem of what to do with Alex, if he visited Mam without her. If they were staying over, he could leave her at the hotel, explaining that he had a personal visit to make, and they could meet up later for dinner. But his determination to get out of Manchester as quickly as possible had backfired on him. He could hardly leave her to kick her heels in Manchester for a couple of hours. She didn't know anyone there. But she was a posh bird. He had repeatedly thrown it in her face that his background was humbler than hers. What would she think when he took her to a shabby terraced house in suburban Manchester? But if he left her behind, she, too, might feel offended. As though I think my Mam's not good enough for her - or that she's not good enough for Mam.

He was still undecided when they were driving up to Manchester. In the end, he left it to her.

"Bols, when we've finished with Albie, I'll, errm, I'll 'ave a personal call to make before we start back."

Alex raised a cool, inquiring eyebrow. "Of course. You know so many people in Manchester." She wondered if he might be visiting Annie.

"Yeah. It's, errm, it's my mother. She expects it, see."

"Oh, Gene, of course you must see her," said Alex warmly. "You should have taken the chance to stay up there a bit longer and catch up with some more of your friends."

"No time for that," he said too quickly. "CPP need the stuff from Albie's interview as soon as possible." Not for worlds would he admit to his dread of meeting his Manchester friends and colleagues again. He knew that he didn't belong there any longer. What frightened him was the thought that he might not truly belong in London either. "But I've got to stop by Mam. Sorry, it'll delay us getting back by a couple of hours."

"Of course, Gene. Don't apologise to me. Take your time."

"Ta. I, er, I was wonderin' if you'd like to come too."

Alex was touched. "Oh, thank you, Gene, I'd love to."

"It's, er, it's 'ardly what you're used to."

"Why not?"

"You're a posh bird. We're not posh."

"It's a home, Gene," said Alex warmly. "I haven't known a real home for so long - "

Jesus. A home. If she only knew what the three of us went through there.

" - and I admire your mother so much," Alex went on.

"'Ow the 'ell do you know about my mother?" Gene was so astonished that he nearly stopped the car in the middle of the motorway.

"From Sam," said Alex quietly.

"Oh. That dozy bastard never could keep 'is gob shut," Gene muttered, embarrassed. "So what did 'e tell you?"

"Not much," Alex admitted, "but enough for me to know that life was incredibly hard for the three of you, and that she kept the family going against all the odds. One of life's quiet heroines."

So she does know some of it. Bugger Sam. Heroine. Yeah, that just about sums Mam up. Gene would never admit it, but he felt a warm glow at hearing Alex speak about his Mam like that.

"What Sam didn't say - " Alex began hesitantly.

"What?"

"Your father - he isn't still alive, is he?"

"Nah. Died when I was eighteen. Dropped dead in the Docker's Arms while drinkin' away the 'ousekeepin' on a Friday night. Massive heart attack. First evidence the bastard 'ad ever given us that 'e 'ad an 'eart. Just like droppin' dead was 'is first deed of pure kindness," he added bitterly.

"Thank you," said Alex with unaccustomed meekness. "I didn't want to pry, just to make sure that I wouldn't say the wrong thing. But won't I be intruding? You and she haven't seen each other for so long, you'll have so much to say to each other. I don't want to be in the way."

''Nah, 'course you won't." If the truth were told, Gene was dreading not having enough to say to Mam to last out the visit. They had so little in common these days. Alex might even prove a welcome distraction. "Mam knows a lot of the people on my team, she'll be glad to meet you."

"Good, that's settled then."

"Yeah. Settled." Gene concentrated very hard on the motorway, hoping that he had not just made a bad mistake.

-oO0Oo-

A few hours later, he was feeling somewhat happier with the world in general. Albie had been more forthcoming than anyone had hoped. It turned out that Neary had seduced one of Albie's favourite boyfriends, and Albie had been biding his time to take revenge. He had collected large amounts of information concerning Neary's "business" deals, including those relating to the import of illegal firearms. It was a valuable haul and would immeasurably strengthen the case against Neary.

While they waited for Albie's statement to be typed and signed, Gene and Alex took possession of a spare office and went through the case file. Alex had at first been surprised by his reluctance to mingle with his former colleagues. She had thought that he would have been eager to spend a prolonged "lunchtime" down at the Railway Arms, catching up on all the gossip. She had even wondered whether he would introduce her to Nelson, or whether Annie might turn up for lunch. But Gene had sent out for sandwiches and worked relentlessly on. She understood at last when Superintendent Rathbone looked into the office to be introduced to Alex and exchange a few words. Gene could hardly shut out his former superior, but was clearly massively uncomfortable as the Super exchanged pleasantries.

"It's good to see you back here, Hunt, even if it is only for the day. CID hasn't been the same without the Four Musketeers. It was such a damned shame about Tyler."

"Yes, Sir," Gene muttered, his eyes on the floor.

Sam. He still can't bear to be reminded of Sam. This is where they worked, sparred, solved cases, lived their lives, day after day. Now it's full of memories he can't bear to face. No wonder he can't wait to leave.

"Still, it looks as though Athos, Porthos and Aramis have found a new D'Artagnan. Good to have met you, DI Drake."

The downside to Albie's having been so unexpectedly helpful was that the whole process took much longer than Gene had anticipated. He had expected to get out of the GMP building by one, or two at the latest, spend a couple of hours with Mam, and be back on the motorway by five or thereabouts. Instead of which it was gone four-thirty before he drove away from GMP, and they still had Mam to face before they could start home. He knew that Mam subscribed to the old-fashioned theory that tea became high tea and still higher tea as the afternoon wore on. The later they arrived, the more food they would be expected to consume, and the harder it would be to leave. Perhaps after all it would have been a better idea to have stayed overnight, but it's too late to change our plans now. He flung the Quattro through the Manchester rush hour traffic, deaf to Alex's remonstrances, and screeched to a halt outside a shabby, but tidily kept, house in a suburban street.

"Well," he said gruffly, his tone daring Alex to say anything about the appearance of the place, " 'ere we are."

They got out of the car and he rang the doorbell. The door opened so instantly that Alex was half convinced that Gene's mother must have been standing right behind it.

She hadn't known what to expect. A careworn old lady, probably, her spirit worn down by her hard life and the loss of her younger son. Or a tough, big-boned woman, inured to harshness. Alex was completely unprepared for the tiny, delicately pretty old lady with gleaming silver hair and violet eyes who flung the door open and launched herself at Gene. He was obviously expecting the onslaught and braced himself for it.

"Genie-boy!"

"How're you doin' then, Mam?" Gene gave her a quick, careless hug and a peck in the cheek, but was clearly embarrassed by her affection. Alex wondered whether he would have been more forthcoming if she were not there. Probably not. He always has so much trouble expressing his feelings.

Mary Hunt looked past her son's bulk to take in his companion, and almost gasped at the sight of the one of the loveliest young women she had ever seen. She had always known that her Gene was successful with the ladies, and he had told her that this new girl was a "posh bird", but she had never imagined that her boy might win a beauty like this.

"Come in, come in, both of you. No standing out in the street." All three crowded into the narrow hallway, and Mary shut the door. "Now, who's this whom you've brought to see an old lady?"

"This is DI Drake, Mam. Drake, please meet my mother." Gene was tense, but Alex put it down to his usual reaction to being hemmed in by women.

"Mrs Hunt." Alex smiled warmly as she extended her hand. "I feel so privileged to meet you."

Gene groaned inwardly. Mam was just bound to misinterpret that.

"And I to meet you, my dear," said Mary, taking her hand. "But I hope you'll call me Mary."

Gene muttered something under his breath.

"I'll be delighted to. But in return I hope you'll call me Alex."

"Alex?" Mary lifted one quizzical eyebrow, a gesture so much the image of Gene's that it was all Alex could do not to burst out laughing with recognition.

"Short for Alexandra."

"Ah, I see. Hang up your coats, both of you, and come through. Gene, show Alex the way. Your tea's all ready."

Gene gestured, clumsily and unnecessarily, to the coat hooks, and Alex was astonished when he helped her off with her jacket and hung it up for her. He had never done that before. She guessed that, in his mother's presence, he automatically reverted to the good manners drilled into him all those years ago. Pavlovian.

"Sorry we're late, Mam," he said apologetically as they entered the kitchen and sat down at a table loaded with enough food for a brigade. "The bastard we were interviewing wanted to spill more beans than Heinz 57 Varieties."

"Well, that's a good thing, isn't it, if it helps you nail your suspect," said Mary happily. "Tea, Alex?"

-oO0Oo-

As Gene had anticipated, Mam's tea was so high that it challenged Kilimanjaro, and the meal was lengthened by the lively conversation. Mam was eager for news of Chris and Ray, and of the team's exploits down south. She was enchanted to hear that Chris had a "serious" girlfriend ("more fool him", Gene muttered), and hooted with laughter at Alex's descriptions of Ray in Neary's nightclub and dancing with her at the boat party. Alex was surprised and impressed to find that Mary had a keen grasp of the cases and procedures described to her, and asked some very searching questions. So is this where Gene's gut instinct comes from? She and Mary got on like a house on fire. When nobody could eat anything more, they repaired to the living room, where Gene and Alex sat side by side on the lumpy sofa and Mary, at Alex's insistence, took the only armchair.

"So, dears," said Mary brightly, "how did you two get to know each other?"

Gene's heart sank like a pit cage. He dared not catch Alex's eye.

Damn, thought Alex. How could I not see this coming? I can't possibly tell this dear old lady that she's got it so wrong. It would be terminally embarrassing, and she would be terribly upset. She doesn't know when she'll see Gene again. I can't do this to her.

Keep calm, Drake. Just play this straight down the line. Nothing but the truth.

Gene cleared his throat. "Err, actually Mam..."

"I joined the team last July," Alex interrupted, flashing Mary her most dazzling smile. "The first time we met up was under the most unusual circumstances. I was working undercover disguised as a prostitute at a party at a boat on the Thames, and the place was raided by police. A nasty piece of work called Edward Markham took me hostage, so the first time Gene saw me I was dressed as a tart and being held at gunpoint!"

Mary bubbled with laughter. "And since then?"

Before Alex could incriminate herself any further, the phone rang.

"Excuse me a minute," said Mary, rising. "It'll probably be Ivy Treadwell, asking me if I'm going to bingo tomorrow night." She went out into the hall and answered the phone.

While she was speaking to the person on the other end, Gene cautiously leaned over to Alex. "Drake - "

"Yes, Gene?" Alex was all dangerous innocence.

"Does it occur to you that my Mam might've, um, got 'old of the wrong end of the stick?"

"Yes. That's why I'm trying to make sure she doesn't. By keeping the conversation professional."

Before he could reply, Mary returned. "It's for you, Gene."

"Eh? Who knows I'm 'ere?"

"It's DCI Neill from GMP. He asked if you were still here. I said that you are, and he said that he needs to speak to you urgently."

"Bloody 'ell..." Gene jumped to his feet and raced out into the hall, brushing past Mary. The two women listened as he barked into the phone.

Oh, God, Alex thought, I hope it isn't bad news from London.

After a couple of minutes' angry exchanges, he slammed the phone down and marched back into the living room, fixing Alex with his eye.

"Drake, do you want the bad news or the really seriously, earth-shakin' bad news?"

He doesn't seem worried. Just pissed off.

"Tell me in chronological order."

"Number one. Albie 'as decided that 'e wants to change something in 'is statement. That means stayin' up 'ere overnight an' interviewin' 'im again tomorrow morning."

"Oh, hell. I only hope he doesn't want to retract any of his evidence about the arms shipments."

"No, no, seems 'e wants to add to our store of useful knowledge. Something 'e forgot to mention when we were interviewin' 'im today."

"Thank goodness Neill caught us before we left. Otherwise we'd have had to come up here a second time to interview Albie again. Just so long as he doesn't intend to keep on doing this."

"If 'e does, I'll 'ave 'is scrotum for a toilet roll 'older an' charge 'im with wastin' police time. Meanwhile, number two. Neill's been tryin' to find us somewhere to stay tonight, but due to a national dentists' conference an' a vital United match tonight - " he spoke the name of the hated team as though it were poison, to be spewed from the mouth as quickly as possible - "there isn't a single 'otel room to be 'ad in the whole of Greater Manchester."

"Damn. What do we do, then?"

"Looks like we'll 'ave to drive out Stockport or Buxton way an' see if we can find something there, then get up in the middle of the night to drive back into Manchester to interview Albie first thing tomorrow."

"Oh, there's no need for that, dears," Mary said calmly. "You can stay here."

Gene's face went a very unusual colour. "But, Mam, you've only got one spare room - "

"That's all right. I use what used to be the spare room now, and keep the old double room for visitors. Are you feeling all right, Gene?"

"Er - Mam - "

"Thank you very much, Mary, that's so kind of you." Alex gave her sweetest smile. "There's just one problem."

"What's that, dear?"

Gene held his breath.

"I haven't got anything to sleep in. Could you please lend me a nightdress?"

-oO0Oo-

Gene never knew afterwards how he got through the rest of the evening. For once in his life he hardly said a word, leaving Alex to steer the conversation away from anything to do with personal relationships. For that matter, he didn't know how he was going to make it through the night.

It wasn't just the idea of sharing a bed with Alex that preyed on him. God knew he had fantasised about that often enough, but always with them as passionate lovers, never as chaste colleagues. He doubted that he would get a wink of sleep with her lying only a few inches away. But what disturbed him equally was where they would sleep. His parents' room, from which, as a child, he had heard his mother's screams night after night. The centre of his father's kingdom, from which he had conducted his reign of terror. Whenever his mother told him, "Your Dad wants to see you in his room," he knew that he was going to be thrashed within an inch of his life, but that if he tried to escape, not only would his beating be worse, but that Mam and Stu would get the same. All he could do for them was to offer himself as a willing victim - just as, he knew, his mother did many times to protect her sons. No wonder Mam had moved out into what had once been his and Stu's room, though they'd been beaten there, and every other room in the house, just as often. The thought of spending the night in that place made him feel sick. Why hadn't Mam realised the effect it would have on him? But of course she wouldn't think of that. He was the invincible Manc Lion, not some French-speaking nancy who was scared by a bloody room. He couldn't blame Alex either, much though he wished he could. He hadn't said much about his past to Sam, certainly not enough to convey the full horror of what he, Mam and Stu had endured, and he didn't even know how much Sam had passed on to Alex. His mouth set in a grim line. He would just have to confront his deepest fears head-on and beat the living crap out of them.

Mary was puzzled. Gene had been in good enough spirits when he arived, but since the phone call he had seemed very preoccupied. She didn't like to ask if anything was wrong, as he might not say. She guessed that he would already be considering the possibilities, both good and bad, of the changes to Albie's statement. As the case hadn't come to court yet, he might not be allowed to discuss it in front of her. He and Alex would probably have a quiet word before they went to bed. She was so glad that he had brought Alex to meet her. Mary was getting to getting to like her more and more, and she had never seen Gene look at any other woman in the same way he looked at this one.

Eventually Gene found his voice enough to suggest that they would have to turn in soon as they had to make an early start in the morning. At least Bolly should get some sleep, he thought bitterly. Mary kindly loaned Alex a nightdress and they said their goodnights.

Nothing had changed. The same bed, the same hideous flock wallpaper, the same pictures on the walls, even the same carpet. The bedside rug had been replaced a few times when it got bloodstained. Gene looked around as though expecting his father's vengeful shade to leap out of the wall at any moment, belt in hand. Alex, following him into the room, watched him curiously. She knew that he had every right to feel embarrassed and angry, but, impossible as it might seem, he looked afraid.

But Gene's never afraid of anything.

As soon as she had closed the door behind them, he rounded on her, glad of the opportunity to relieve his feelings in some small measure.

"Drake. What the fuckin' 'ell is all this about?"

"I'm sorry, Gene," she said meekly. "I know it's awkward, but it really seemed to me to be the best solution."

"You could 'ave slept in 'ere, an' I'd take the sofa."

"Gene. Number one, if you spend the night on that sofa you won't sleep a wink. It's unspeakably uncomfortable. You have to drive back to London tomorrow, and we don't want you falling asleep at the wheel of the Quattro."

I won't sleep a wink in here either. But I can't say that.

"Number two, your mother is the sweetest, dearest old lady I've ever met, and I couldn't possibly embarrass her by telling her she'd got it wrong."

How about embarrassing me? Can't say that either. Bugger.

"Don't worry, Gene. It'll be just like doing an all-night stakeout in the Quattro. You never know, we might have to go undercover posing as a couple sometime. Everything will be fine."

"Yeah, well, I'll just pay a visit an' leave you to get ready, eh?"

He all but bolted for the bathroom, leaving Alex to change into the nightdress Mary had lent her. She shook her head. For all her brave words, she didn't feel as confident as she sounded about spending the night in bed with Gene. She knew that she could rely on him to be a perfect gentleman. She just wasn't sure whether she wanted him to be.

Mary had also loaned her a dressing gown, which she put on over the nightdress, and when Gene returned she slipped out. By the time she returned, he had stripped to his vest and boxers and was lying in bed with his back to the door. Alex removed her dressing gown, slid quickly into bed, lying with her back to him, and turned out the bedside lamp.

"Good night, Gene."

"Night, Bols."

Gene already knew that he wouldn't sleep. The familiar feeling of dread, which he always felt in this house, had reached out to him as soon as he'd walked through the door. His embarrassment over Alex, and Mam's liveliness, had enabled him to ignore it at first, but as soon as he had realised that he would have to sleep here, all the terrible memories had flooded back. He had read something in a newspaper long ago about the banality of evil. That sounded a posh phrase, but he knew what it meant. This house, this room, looked so fucking ordinary, nobody who hadn't lived through them would realise what terrible things had happened here. The darkness didn't make it any better.

Concentrate on something else. Bolly. But the knowledge that she was lying so close to him was likely to drive him half insane by the morning. He'd caught a glimpse of the nightie Mam had lent her, sky blue Crimplene with a pink bow at the neck, a passion killer if ever there was one, but it had done nothing to quench his growing desire. It would be so easy to roll over and reach out to her. To run his fingers lightly over her curls, stroke her shoulder, pull her into his arms and kiss her half senseless, make her his... But afterwards? She might never look at him or speak to him again.

She trusted him. She had got into this bed with him, knowing that he would not take advantage of the situation, and, damn her, she was right. Whatever else happened, he could never betray her trust. He had to focus on that. He lay there, hoping that at some point in the night he would become too tired to stay awake.

Damn. This is going to be harder than I thought. However much Alex tried to rationalise it, the fact remained that the sensation of lying so close to Gene, even back to back, was doing unspeakable things to her. She could feel his warmth, feel how the mattress was dipping beneath his weight, hear his even breathing, smell his "man stink" - the aroma that was so peculiarly his. It was almost unbearable. Apart from that disastrous one night stand with the Thatcherite, this was the first time she had slept with a man since she came to the 1980s. She felt so alone. She knew that he wanted her: he had made no secret of it. Why didn't he take the chance? Here, with him, she knew at last how much she wanted him to reach out to her, take her in his arms, make her feel warm and safe and wanted. She tried to tell herself that it didn't matter, he was only her construct, but her every instinct told her how real he was to her. Never more so than now.

You've blown it, Drake. You gave him the brush-off once too often. That hurt his pride. He won't try anything on now.

She suppressed a sigh and lay there, waiting in vain for sleep.

TBC