Okay. This has taken me a long time to get round to. Sorry. I had originally planned something different for this, but then it changed into something a bit more angsty and this is the result. All crit welcome, good, bad or indifferent.

It was later. Gene and Alex sat huddled in thick blankets beside the radiator in a quiet corner of Luigi's, enormous steaming mugs on the table before them. Luigi himself was fussing around the pair like an old hen.

"Ah, poor Signorina Drake! And Signor Hunt! You see what you make her do, eh? You both lucky you not dead from cold, jumping into the river like a couple of crazy seals. La, la! You both drink my special hot chocolate, and that will warm your cockles, eh?"

"I don't think I'll ever feel my cockles again," muttered Gene. Alex elbowed him. "Oh, yeah, ta very much, looks lovely. Great."

"It smells delicious Luigi," Alex smiled graciously at him. "You needn't have gone to the trouble."

"Is no trouble Signorina, is no trouble. You two enjoy." And he bustled off back behind the bar.

Alex took a long sip and hummed happily as the warmth spread all the way down her throat and into her stomach. "Mmmmm. That's good."

Beside her, Gene gave his a long, considering look before pulling a hip flask from the blankets and pouring a hefty measure in.

"You shouldn't do that. You'll curdle the milk."

"Rubbish. Mm, much better." He handed it over. "You try."

Alex ignored him and swigged straight from the flask instead. "You're right," she gasped as the fiery liquid burnt its way down her throat. "Much better."

"Oi," he grabbed it back, scowling. "Weren't you ever taught that snatching's rude?"

"Of course I was. Weren't you ever taught that it's rude not to offer a girl a drink after she's saved your life? If I'd known you were going to be so stingy I wouldn't have bothered."

"If I'd known I'd lose my best pair of boots I'd have told you not to bother," he replied moodily.

"It was only one of them! If you want it back I'm only too willing to chuck you back in."

"Fat lot of good one boot is," Gene sniffed, and slurped his hot chocolate despondently. "I've had those boots for ages. Height of fashion they are. I loved those boots."

Alex gave him a mock-serious look. "Would you like some time alone to grieve?"

He pouted at her. "Nah, I'll struggle through. Strong and silent type, that's me."

She snorted. "I'll tell you what, if you buy me a drink I'll buy you a new pair of boots. Then we're even. Deal?"

"Hmm," Gene considered. "Deal. I'll buy you a bottle, just cos I'm feeling generous."

"Good," Alex drained her cup. "Bring it up to the flat. I'll see if your clothes are dry yet."

With that she wrapped the blanket closer about her shoulders and walked through the restaurant and up the stairs to the floor above, ignoring the curious looks of their fellow diners.

It was only when she reached the top that Alex realised just how tired she was. Pushing open the door, she trailed into the sitting-room and inspected the set of clothes drying over the heater. Hmm, still a bit damp. She'd had to wash them through three times on the bathroom sink to get them even vaguely clean and they would probably still need a good dry-cleaning. Gene would have gone home to get a dry set if he hadn't been quite so cold, and it wasn't until after he'd got up to her flat that they'd realised there wasn't much he could wear in the mean time. He was currently downstairs in an old t-shirt that had been left in Alex's cupboard from before she came, her long dressing-gown, a blanket, and not much else. She was only glad Luigi hadn't noticed.

Yawning, Alex turned the suit and shirt over on the rack and wandered over to the window. Outside the sky had turned a washy lavender-blue of late afternoon and the sun was shining almost directly through the window as it started to set. A few wispy clouds floating high above, like a horse's mane blown in the wind, caught and reflected the golden light. Alex closed her eyes and breathed in deeply, savouring the sun's warmth on her face.

~~~OOooOO~~~

Gene clambered wearily up the steps clutching a bottle of red and a couple of glasses. The door was already half open and he shouldered his way through and into the kitchen, quietly closing it behind him. When he saw Alex leaning against the window frame, lost in thought, he stopped. Outlined in the sunset her hair shone a glowing chestnut and the light turned her skin into the softest gold. He felt a sudden flush of warmth at the sight of her looking so beautiful and still. Gently, so as not to disturb her, he put the glasses on the table and poured out the wine, before picking up both and carrying them over to the window.

"Here you go Bolls," he pushed one into her hand. "Don't say I don't ever do anything for you."

"Hm? Oh thanks," Alex looked up at him, eyes still distant. "Sorry, I was miles away. Cheers."

They both sipped quietly, watching out through the glass, lost in their own thoughts.

"Mmm," Alex hummed, suddenly exhausted, leaning back against him. "That's better. I feel almost human now."

"It's going to be a long time before I think about going swimming again, that's for sure," Gene murmured, equally worn out. "How's my suit doing?"

"It's still quite wet." Alex left the window and fingered the smooth fabric again. "Should be ready in a bit though. You don't mind waiting?"

"Haven't really got a choice, have I? I can't exactly walk home in your dressing-gown and a blanket. I'd get arrested."

She laughed and looked back at him. Gene shifted uncomfortably under her gaze and pulled the blanket closer around his middle. "What?"

"Nothing. It's just - it's strange not seeing you in your suit, that's all."

"Well, don't get too used to the view," he took another gulp from his glass and glanced away.

Alex smiled again, which turned into a yawn, and then into a shiver. "Uh. I'm still freezing. Um -" she hesitated, "- d'you mind if I have a bath? Just to warm up. You could turn the telly on if you wanted to."

Gene shrugged. "It's your house," his lip curled into a slight smirk. "I could come and scrub your back if you liked."

"I think I'll manage," she replied lightly, turning quickly to hide the blush that stained her cheeks.

He watched her retreat into her bedroom and listened to the sudden whoosh of taps as she began to fill the bath. It was oddly soothing and Gene found himself leaning back on the sofa and closing his eyes. God, but he was tired. His thoughts wandered for a while, going back over the day; remembering the shock of falling from the jetty, the horrible, bone-deep cold of the water, the way it had sucked away his strength and whispered so persuasively in his ears that before the dark claimed him he almost hadn't been afraid… but he didn't want to remember that.

Standing up suddenly he carried his glass into Alex's bedroom. The door to the bathroom was closed, but he could hear sounds of splashing beyond it. Hesitantly, he went over and knocked on the wood.

The splashing stopped. "Yes?"

"Erm," Gene shuffled his feet. "I just wanted to say - thanks. For jumping in after me."

There was a small pause, in which he thought he could hear the click of a shampoo bottle cap. "That's okay," Alex's voice came echoing weirdly off the tiles. "You would have done the same for me."

Gene nodded and wearily sat down on the carpet, resting his back against the door. Now through the panels came the sound of Alex lathering her hair and the swoosh as she rinsed it out.

"Gene?"

"Mm?"

"Did you - were you scared?"

"Tell the truth Bolls… yeah. I was shit scared."

He could hear the sloop as she stood up and the rustle of a towel. And then very quietly, "Me too."

"Really?" he found himself surprised, and then thought that perhaps he ought not to be.

The door clicked and he almost fell back as Alex opened it, wrapped in a bathrobe and with her hair turbaned in a towel, looking down at him seriously. "Really."

"Oh, right," he mumbled, scrambling awkwardly to his feet. They stood there for a couple of long moments just staring at each other. There was something unreadable in her eyes that he couldn't put his finger on…

Alex looked away first. "Your things won't be quite dry yet. I saved some hot water. There's a shower attachment on the bath if you wanted to warm up before getting changed?"

"Right," he said again. "Thanks. I'll just…" He trailed off and saved face by escaping into the bathroom.

When he emerged five minutes later, pink and warm and smelling of vanilla shampoo (he hoped Alex wouldn't mind; the smell of Thames water that had clung to his skin and hair had been awful), he found her perched cross-legged on the bed in a pair of black silk pyjamas, towelling her hair. His clothes had been laid out neatly on the duvet. The sight did something funny to his stomach. It was weirdly…domestic.

She smiled at him. "I'll leave you to get changed. Did you need anything?"

"Erm, no. No, that's great."

"Ok."

He watched her sashay out. Get a bloody grip Hunt. Shaking his head he unwound the towel from his waist and began pulling on his clothes. Pants, socks, trousers; he'd just got his shirt on and was trying to do up his tie when a sudden wave of exhaustion hit him. Resting on the edge of the bed he yawned hugely. His tie became knotted under his fumbling fingers; he just couldn't do the bloody thing up. God, Alex's bed was comfy. Maybe if he just closed his eyes for five minutes…after all, he had almost died today, a man needed to have some rest…

~~~OOooOO~~~

Alex knocked and pushed her bedroom door open. "Gene? You all right?"

He was curled up on top of the covers with his tie tangled around his neck, breathing softly. Alex smiled at the sight and felt a rush of fondness for the arrogant, stubborn, rude, and totally impossible man lying peacefully before her. Tiptoeing over, she gently unknotted the slip of fabric about his throat and pulled the duvet over his shoulders. He shifted and blinked groggily up at her.

"Bolly?" he mumbled.

"It's all right Gene. Go back to sleep. I'll stay on the sofa tonight."

He muttered something unintelligible and closed his eyes.

~~~OOooOO~~~

He was underwater again. Floating in the darkness at the bottom of the quay, all the weight of the Thames above him. He had to get out; get up to where the air was, where he could breathe. But his arms and legs were numb, heavy and weak, he couldn't swim up, he was going to drown down here in the dark all over again, oh God no…

There was a splash and he looked up. Through the murk he could see Alex kicking down towards him. Relief filled Gene's chest as reached him. It was going to be all right. He'd be able to breathe in a minute. Don't panic.

Suddenly there was another splash, louder this time. A huge indistinct shape fell towards him, bubbles streaming behind it. Gene's heart constricted as he saw what it was. Not him too, please not him too, it couldn't be, not now -

The beige Cortina came to rest about ten yards away, the fleshy tyres sinking into the deep river ooze. Gene could see Sam's face behind the windscreen, a pale oval, mouthing wordlessly and beating at the glass with his fists.

Alex kicked away from Gene, reaching towards the car. He tried desperately to follow but the mud held him fast, stuck to the bed like a fly in treacle. Slimy hands began to grope blindly from the mulch, wrapping long, strong fingers about his ankles and calves. He struggled harder against them, had to get to Sam before it was too late, no, he couldn't let him die like this again, alone in the breathless wet, not Sam, Sam! Sam!

"Sam!"

Gene sat up with a start, soaked in a cold sweat and breathing hard. For a couple of wild seconds he couldn't think where he was. Then relief flooded through him as he remembered: Alex, Alex's flat, it's okay, you're in Alex's flat.

"Gene?" A dark figure poised in the doorway stepped towards him. The orange light of a streetlamp outside threw harsh lines through the blinds, striping oddly across her body.

"I'm fine," he panted, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and turning his back to her so she couldn't see the truth on his face. "Just a bad dream. Go back to bed Alex."

She paused. He didn't want her to stay. He didn't want her to see him like this. For a moment he thought she'd gone, but then her soft footfalls on the carpet told him otherwise.

"I said, go back to bed!" his voice came out harsh, angry, almost a shout. She ignored it, and he felt the bed dip as she settled next to him. He looked away from her and rubbed a hand across his eyes.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Alex asked quietly and he felt the hesitant touch of her hand on his shoulder.

"No." He was not about to let her psychotwatalyse him.

Her fingers squeezed his arm and he stiffened at the touch. "I have bad dreams from time to time too. It's okay to be afraid sometimes, Gene."

"Don't." He meant it as an instruction to leave him alone, but when she put her arm around his back and gave him a quick hug he found he didn't want her to go. "Don't," he repeated quietly, and pulled her to his chest in a hopeless embrace.

They stayed like that for a long time, silent comfort in the darkness, until he found Alex almost asleep in his arms. Gently, he laid her on the bed and pulled the duvet up under her chin, rising to go to the sitting-room sofa, but her hand reached out for his and tugged him back down onto the mattress. Without a word he settled beside her on top of the covers. Alex snuggled closer and pressed her hand to his chest, just over his heart, like she had done in the vaults of Edgehampton. It was an odd gesture, but one he found reassuring. Lulled by the sound of Alex's breathing, Gene fell into a dreamless sleep.