Author Note: Hello again everyone! It's good to be back! This story is the third in the trilogy that started with Dedicated to the One I Love and And The Sky Is Grey. You might want to read those before you attempt this story so that it makes more sense!!

As usual, I don't own any of the characters from either LOM or A2A, they are merely people I play with my fantasies (meow!) I hope you'll enjoy this story and leave a review.

You may remember that at the end of And The Sky Is Grey Meg disappeared for good, Danny came to live with Gene and Sam met Alex in the hospital and revealed that he was undercover. This story picks up from there.....

Somewhere in England – July 1982

He sat at the window, watching the rain falling outside, watching as it streaked the glass and blurred his vision of the outside world. Every so often it would clear slightly and he would see the world in front of him, only for it to be obscured seconds later by a fresh wave of water.

He felt as though he had been sitting there for days, weeks even. Holed up in this room like a prisoner. Though he could technically leave any time he wanted, he felt as though he was trapped. Trapped by a decision he had made two years ago and was, every day, living to regret.

Sighing, he turned away from the window and surveyed the room around him. It was the smallest bedsit he had ever seen, even smaller than the one he had had in Manchester. The decor wasn't much better either. Bad eighties, which he knew would be revived in about twenty five years time. He sat down on the chintz bedspread and stared at the phone, willing it to ring. They had said five o'clock and it was now ten after.

For a brief moment, he thought about how easy it would be to phone his wife and tell her he was coming home. Tell her that he was jacking it in, that he had made a mistake and that he couldn't see it through to the end after all. He knew she would be relieved, but worried about the consequences. He ached to see her again though, to hold her in his arms and smell her skin and her hair. And his children. He ached to see his children, no doubt much changed in the time that had passed. But he also knew, that contacting her out with the prearranged times would only alarm her and, possibly put her in danger if they were listening in. He was sure now that they were.

The phone rang shrilly, making him jump. He stared at it for a long moment before getting up, crossing the room and lifting the receiver.

"Hello?"

"Oh good, you're there."

"I said I would be," he replied, trying to keep his voice steady.

"So you did. Have you got it?"

He fingered the sheet of paper lying on the table. "Yes."

"Good," the voice sounded satisfied. "So, you know where and when?" He nodded, despite the fact the caller couldn't see him. "You still there?"

"Yes, sorry."

"You'd better not be thinking about backing out now," the voice said, slightly menacing in tone now, "We've gone too far now."

"I know," he replied honestly.

"Fine. I'll see you there." He was left with the dial tone in his ear.

Slowly, he replaced the receiver and turned to lift his leather jacket from where it had been slung casually over the chair. Putting it on, he eyed himself in the mirror, took a deep breath and opened the door.

Costa Brava – July 1982

"Ole! Ole! Ole!"

"Bloody 'ell does 'e never stop?"

"Ole! Ole! Ole!"

"Danny!" Gene Hunt looked up from where he was trying unsuccessfully to read a newspaper in the departure lounge and glared at his son who was standing next to the row of seats offering Spanish greetings to all and sundry.

"What?" he turned wide eyes on his father.

"Give it a rest."

Danny immediately looked cowed. "Sorry." He sat down on one of the seats and started to swing his legs aimlessly, bumping his heels against the steel frame, causing them to shake with every movement. "how much longer?"

"I don't know," Gene replied, focusing on the sports section.

"Four hours is forever!"

"Tell me about it," he mumbled.

"Dad?"

"What?"

"Can I get some money?"

Gene eyed him suspiciously, "What for?"

"Crisps. Pleeeeaaase?" he begged, "Por favor?"

"Oh Christ, not more Spanish!" Gene fumbled in his pockets and pulled out a fiver. He held it out to Danny who grabbed it eagerly. "I'd better get four pound ninety change out of that!" he called out as Danny dashed off in the direction of the shops, almost barging into Alex Drake in the process.

She watched as he darted across the large lounge and then turned back to where Gene was waiting. "Still no more news?" she asked, sitting down beside him.

"Nope," he replied. "Tell you something though."

"What's that?"

"You're sitting next to 'im on the plane 'ome. I've 'ad it up to 'ere with bleeding Spanish."

Alex laughed, "You should be glad that he took an interest. Maybe he'll buck the trend of the stereotypical English abroad."

"Hmph." Gene turned back to his paper.

Alex ran a hand through her hair and looked around the lounge at the different families crowded there, waiting for the delayed 3.30pm flight to London. The sun was streaming in through the windows and she could see the concrete sizzling outside. It had been a fantastic holiday, one she had never thought she would be able to persuade Gene to take.

"Caravan in Bognor suits me," he had declared when she had suggested it.

"Oh come on," she had argued, "don't you want to show Danny some culture?"

"'e can see plenty of culture in Bognor."

She had pleaded and cajoled and eventually he had given in and they had booked the week's break in the Costa Brava. Seven whole days of lying baking in the sun, swimming in the sea and, most importantly, watching the ever growing bond between Gene and his son. Time had flown since the strange events of 1981. The search for serial killer Derek Wallace, Alex's kidnap, the strange reappearance of Meg Ryan, Danny's mother, her battling Death to save Gene's life and then, tragically, Danny's grandfather dying suddenly throwing Danny into the full time care of his father. She had watched as Gene had gone from unsure and wary to a complete natural. When she saw how Danny had grown and progressed, especially now he had reached the grand old age of eight, she knew that it was all down to Gene.

"Glad you came Bolly," Gene said suddenly, as though reading her thoughts.

"It was my idea if you remember," she reminded him.

"I know that, but you still could 'ave pulled out and left us to it," he looked at her gratefully, "You've been brilliant this week."

"So have you," she replied, resting her head on his shoulder, "You're so good with him."

"Except when 'e's driving me mad with bloody Spanish. Oh Lord, 'ere 'e comes." Right on cue, Danny came tearing back over to them. "Well," Gene asked, "where's me change?" He dutifully handed over the money. "Good lad."

"How much longer?" Danny asked again.

"Ask your moth..." Gene caught himself. "Ask Alex."

Alex looked at him sympathetically before turning back to Danny who was looking at her expectantly. "Why don't you go and check the board?" Without further prompting, Danny was off again. She waited until he was out of earshot. "Are you all right?"

"Fine," he replied, "sorry about that."

"You don't have to apologise."

"So used to 'aving you around," he offered by way of explanation. "Anyone looking at us would think you were 'is mother."

"I told you before that I'll be there for him," she said. "It's the next best thing surely?"

"Course it is," he smiled at her, "You know, Alex, it's been a while now and...well...maybe we should think about taking the next step."

She turned innocent eyes on him, "The next step?"

"Yeah you know..." he was drowned out by the sudden wail of the tannoy.

" Señoras y señores. Número de vuelo 4533 a Londres es ahora embarcar en puerta número siete. Ladies and gentlemen. Flight number 4533 to London is now boarding at gate number seven."

"We're going! We're going! We're going!" Danny shouted as he rushed back over to pick up his small bag. "We're going! We're going! We're going!"

"Danny!" Gene warned again.

Alex smiled and dropped a kiss on his cheek. "At least it's not Spanish."

London – July 1982

"Look who's back again," Chris Skelton observed as he stood at the main entrance of Fenchurch East police station watching a skinny middle-aged man quickly approach him waving a notepad.

Ray Carling sidled up beside him, "Not Nosy Norman." He groaned. "I'm sick of the sight of 'is mug."

"DS Carling!" the man called out as he approached, "Just the person!"

"Not now Norman, eh?" Ray said turning his back on the visitor, "I've got work to do."

"Looks more like you're having a fag," Norman pointed out, jabbing at Ray with his pen. He smiled to show yellowing teeth from too many cigarettes and too much coffee. "Now I know the officers of Fenchurch East are always more than willing to talk to the gentlemen of the press, especially the Daily Bugle."

"I wipe my arse with the Bugle," Chris said helpfully. Ray and Norman stared at him. "Well, once..."

"There isn't exactly much to be talking about," Ray said.

"Now we both know that's not true," Norman said, licking the tip of his pen and turning over a fresh sheet in his pad. "What about Joe Dempster?"

"'ere we go..." Ray grumbled.

"Word has it he's planning to sue the Met for his treatment in custody last month." Norman cocked his head on one side. "He was particularly verbose about DCI Gene Hunt."

"No comment," Ray said.

"No...comment..." Norman echoed, making a show of writing it down. "What about the fact that Dempster father, a notorious figure in town, threatened to kick...what was it...seven shades of shit out of DCI Hunt."

"No comment," Ray said again.

"Obstructive as well as everything else," Norman shook his head as he scribbled. "Very bad form."

"Come on Chris, let's go," Ray said, gesturing to the door.

"Wait, wait, wait!" Norman called out, causing them to pause. "Before you go, answer me this. Is the Met aware of the armed blag which is due to take place next Saturday at Royal Bank?"

Ray and Chris whipped around. "What blag?" the latter asked.

"Aha!" Norman danced from foot to foot, "So you don't know?"

"I swear to God..." Ray hopped down a few steps.

"Sources! Sources!" Norman held up his hands in mock protest. "They tell me there's going to be a blag at the Royal Bank on Saturday morning when the security van comes to collect that week's reserve."

"Who says?" Chris asked.

"Sources," Norman replied as though he was simple.

"We got that much," Ray said, "who are these 'sources'?"

"Freedom of the press!" Norman exclaimed. "Privacy of sources! You don't actually expect me to give that up, do you?" He smiled and turned away. "Just thought I would do my civic duty and give you the heads up." With a hearty wave, he loped back towards his car.

Chris turned to Ray. "What should we do? The Guv'll go mental if 'e comes back to 'ear this and we don't know what's 'appening."

"I know," Ray chewed on his lip. "We need to get all the usual suspects in and try to figure this out before they get back."

"It's exciting, innit?" Chris said, excitement flashing across his face. "An armed blag!"

Ray looked at him like he was an idiot, "You really are bloody mental."

****

"Hi."

"Hi!" her voice was warm, excited, pleased to hear from him. He closed his eyes at the sound of her familiar tones. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah," he replied quietly. "You?"

"I'm ok," she said, though he could hear the sadness in her voice.

"The kids?"

"They're fine. They miss you."

He closed his eyes and leaned his head against the side of the phone box. "I miss them too." He willed away the tears at the corners of his eyes. "I miss you."

"I miss you too," she said. "When...?"

"Soon."

"But when?" she persisted.

"I don't know," he said, "soon."

He heard her sigh heavily. "It's too much...being without you...it's like..." she paused. "I don't how much longer I can stand it."

"Me neither," he whispered. "But I promise you I'll be home soon." He turned as headlights swept over the phone box, bathing him in light. "I'd best go."

"Ok," she said sorrowfully. "I love you Sam."

He closed his eyes again and imagined her face, her sweet face, and her breath on his cheek. "I love you too Annie. I love you too.

Bit short to begin with but more to come!!