Disclaimer: BBC, Monastic and Kudos own Ashes to Ashes. If I did, Series 3 would be all Galex!

Yet again, thank you to everyone who's reading this fic, for all the faves and alerts, and especially for all the amazing reviews. I've just passed my 200th review, yippee! 200 reviews for eight chapters, I can't get over it - I must be doing something right…

Of course she had no intention of taking Molly's advice. None at all. I must give him time to decide. She gave Gene a few minutes to get clear of the bathroom, and then went straight to bed. She'd had a tiring day: goodness knew, they all had. But she could not rest for thinking of Gene, knowing that he slept upstairs. How would he fare in this time? She and Sam had at least had the security of going back to eras through which they had already lived. For Gene, everything would be new. She could not even try to imagine how hard it would all be for him.

After a wakeful hour and a half, tired, hot, cross and uncomfortable, she at last gave in. No harm in checking to see if he's all right. She was unlikely to disturb him: he was a heavy sleeper. She got out of bed, reached for her dressing gown, and stopped.

If I'm going to make a fool of myself, I'll do it properly.

She took off her nightshirt and put on her dressing gown, shivering at the feel of the silk against her bare skin, tied the belt, cautiously opened her bedroom door, and crept noiselessly up the stairs. She turned the handle of the spare bedroom door and tentatively pushed it open. Gene lay on his back, his eyes closed, not snoring for once, his right arm cradling his head, which was turned slightly to one side, his left arm flung out across the empty space beside him. She leaned against the doorframe, her arms folded, and stood watching him for a long time, her heart heavy with pity and love.

I was wrong to come. Molly was wrong to encourage me. I have no claim on him. When we found each other in St Joseph's, I made him promise never to leave me, but I mustn't hold him to that. He may want to make his own way in this new world and break with all reminders of the past. Including me. He may not be able to forgive me for causing his death and taking him away from everything he ever knew.

She sighed soundlessly and turned to go back to her cold bed.

"Stay."

That single word again, uniting them. She turned back to him. He had raised himself onto one elbow and was gazing at her intently. Without looking away from her, he switched on the bedside lamp, and a pool of light fell between them. The gold chain around his neck glittered against his skin. She felt weak with longing.

"I'm sorry, Gene," she said, very low. "I should have left you alone tonight. Forgive me."

"There's only one thing, ever, that I wouldn't 'ave been able to forgive you."

"What's that?"

"If you'd left me alone tonight. Come 'ere."

He held out one arm to her as he spoke, and she had a sudden, vivid memory of the vault at Edgehampton. Wordlessly, she closed the door, walked over to the bed and knelt on the mattress beside him. He looked up at her, suddenly unsure of himself. She took his hand, laid it on the belt of her dressing gown, and drew his wrist downwards. The belt untied, and she heard his intake of breath as the silk fell away and left her naked. She released his hand, and his gaze travelled down her body. His eyes widened and he gave a small, strangled cry.

"What's wrong?"

He reached out a shaking hand to touch the smooth, flawless skin of her stomach. "I - I shot you - "

She took his hand and held it there. "Gene. This is 2008. You didn't shoot me in this time. The man who shot me in 2008 was Arthur Layton." With her free hand, she pushed her hair aside to show him the bullet wound again. "Not you. In this time, it didn't happen."

He nodded, assimilating that anew, accepting that, in this new world, he was free from guilt. His arm came around her, drawing her down to him, and she bent her head for his kiss.

He understood now, why she had never been able to give herself to him before, emotionally or physically. If she had, it would have bound her to him and to his time. She would never have been able to return home. For him, he knew, there was no going back. In embracing her, he embraced this new world and this new life, making them his own and giving himself to them, completely. Only a few short hours ago, or over a quarter of a century ago, he had thought that he was going to his death, but now, holding her in his arms, he had never felt so alive.

In all her life, she had never seen anything so beautiful as the ecstatic curve of his body above hers as he reached his peak, arching slowly over her, his head flung back, his eyes closed, those full, soft lips parted in a wordless cry. Then her own climax overtook her, and she could see nothing but wheeling stars. As they slowly returned to earth, he lowered his head over hers, and his mouth took hers in one last kiss before he sank back to the bed beside her and took her in his arms. For a while, she lay there, listening to the thunder of his heart, feeling more happy and content than she had ever been. Then, because it was important that he should know that she wanted him at least as much as he wanted her, she gently disengaged herself, pushed him onto his back, kissed his protests into silence, and claimed him as hers, while he gazed up at her in wonder. She swayed back and forth above him, her head hanging forward, her hair drooping around her face. He reached up to smooth her hair back, gazing deep into her eyes, and she took his hands between hers and kissed them. Those beautiful hands, capable of such violence and such gentleness. Then it was she who arched over him, her head flung back, entwining her fingers with his as ecstasy crashed through her, while he cried out her name and shuddered beneath her. He drew her down to him, wrapping his arms about her, letting her rest upon his broad chest before turning them both onto their sides and holding her close as they both sank into the deep, peaceful sleep of fulfilment.

She had no idea of the time when she awakened, but no light shone through the curtains yet. Lying in the strong circle of his arms, resting against the warmth of his body, she felt a surge of wonder at the miracle of life. All life was a miracle, but that he should have come to her from his own time, that he should be lying like this alongside her, his heart beating, the blood coursing through his veins, the breath of life thrilling through him, was a miracle greater than she would ever be able to comprehend. To think that she had ever doubted that he could be real.

She thought at first that he was still asleep, but when she moved slightly to look up at him, she found him gazing anxiously down at her.

"Gene?" She stroked the line of his shoulder.

"Nothing, I just remembered - I 'ad a dream 'bout waking up with you, while I was in hiding."

"Snap." She smiled. "I dreamt about waking up with you, after you got me out of the cold store."

"Hope yours wasn't anything like mine. That turned into a nightmare."

"Don't worry. This is real."

"I just want to say, love - I don't want to make any trouble between you an' Molly. She might resent me. I know kids often take it badly when their mums get new blokes. If she does, I - I won't ask you to choose between us."

Alex smiled again. "It was Molly who told me to come here tonight. I'd never have had the courage otherwise. She said you're what the doctor ordered."

Gene radiated relief. "What a very bright kid you've got."

"Oh, Gene, I have everything I could ever want now. Both you and Molly. But for me to have everything, you've had to lose everything - your home, your work, your friends, everything you ever knew. Your whole world. I don't know if I'll ever be able to make it up to you, my dear, dear love, but I promise I'll spend the whole of my life trying. I only hope it'll be enough."

He was silent for a few moments, and she understood that he was considering how best to answer. "Once before, I 'ad to leave everything I ever knew, an' start again. After Sam died an' the wife left. A lot of people at GMP 'ad hated Sam because he'd uncovered so many tasty scams an' rackets in the force, an' they hated me because I backed 'im up after we arrested Warren. I knew I couldn't stay there once 'e was gone. There was the chance of the job in London when Mac kicked Garrett out, an' I thought it was time for a fresh start. So I came down 'ere, with Ray an' Chris, to start over. Hadn't realised 'ow different it was goin' to be. Felt like I'd landed on a different planet. But I stuck it, an' made myself a place there. Now I'm starting over again. I've got a job, an' I know I've got a place in this world. With you." His arms tightened about her. "I 'ad Ray an' Chris with me then, an' I've got you now. Where you are, is where I've got to be. I'm where I'm needed. Can't ask for more than that."

"Will I do instead of Ray and Chris, then?" she said in a small voice.

"Oh, you'll do." His voice rumbled with amusement. "You'll do."

"Good. I could grow a perm, but I draw the line at a moustache."

His laughter was rich and warm, filling the room and filling her veins with life and light. He swooped down upon her, kissing her again and again as she pulled the duvet over them both.

Later that night, as she slept in Gene's arms, she heard one final whisper in the wind.

"Well, Sir? " She knew that harsh Irish accent well. It had terrified her so often. But now she felt too happy and too safe to fear, and the voice sounded oddly respectful.

"No, Mr Summers. You can't come in yet." A second voice which she did not know, full of the beauty and majesty of age and wisdom. A voice that, even amid her unutterable happiness, she longed to hear again.

"I've done my best for them, Sir." The first voice again.

"Really, Mr Summers? Do you call goading a man into self-murder the best you can do for him?"

"I told him the truth that he refused to hear before. It had to be done. I separated them, so I had to bring them back together. They can't be apart."

"I have to agree with you, although I cannot approve of your methods. But aren't you forgetting something?"

"Sir?"

"They were not your only victims. What are you going to do for the others? The security guards, DC Skelton, and that innocent young constable whom you slaughtered."

"I killed him to keep him innocent. If he had lived a week longer, Operation Rose would have corrupted him. He would have become - me. I couldn't wish that upon him. He didn't know it, but to die then was to die most happy."

"You need not worry about him. He will have his chance. But there are still the others. Back you go, Mr Summers."

A faint sigh. "Very good, Sir."

-oO0Oo-

Given his state of mind when he went to bed, it was hardly surprising that Gene had not thought to set his alarm, and it had been the last thing on Alex's mind when she joined him. They awakened, luxuriously entwined with the duvet and with one another, to find bright sunshine streaming through the curtains. Alex rolled over and squinted at the clock.

"Oh, my God, it's ten to ten! Molly should have been at school twenty minutes ago! Stay right there, Gene, I'll have to go and wake her up - "

She grabbed her dressing gown, left Gene still dazedly rubbing his eyes, cascaded down the stairs, and raced full tilt into Molly's room, braking sharply at the sight of a neatly made bed and a note propped up against the pillow. She picked it up.

Good for you, Mum! I saw your room was empty, so I made my own breakfast and I told Evan you're resting. See you tonight. Love Mols xxx

"Wassup?" Gene stumbled groggily down the stairs, wrapped in a bathrobe. She came out of Molly's room and met him on the landing, smiling radiantly.

"Nothing. Molly's gone to school. She left us to have our sleep out. Bless her."

"What's on today's agenda, then? More of the same?" He jerked his head suggestively towards his bedroom.

"Not until tonight," she said with mock severity. "We have a busy day ahead of us."

"Have we?"

"Breakfast first. Then we'll have to go shopping and get you some things for the luggage that's meant to have gone missing." She counted the items off on her fingers. "A couple more suits, shirts and ties, casual clothes for off-duty and undercover, underwear, socks, boots, shoes, driving gloves, a razor, shaving soap, aftershave, a suitcase - oh, yes, and some CDs of your favourite '80s music to lend to Molly."

"What are CDs?"

"They've replaced LPs. Much more convenient. Then we'll have to start your lessons."

"EH?"

"This is 2008. I need to bring you up to date on what's happened over the past twenty-six years in world and domestic history, politics, current affairs, policing, technology and entertainment. Molly's promised to teach you how to use a modern computer, and I'll coach you on everything else. We have to get you up to speed on everything in time to start your new job. We have three weeks."

-oO0Oo-

The next three weeks were pandemonium. Normally Gene would have rebelled against being treated like an overgrown schoolboy, but he was constantly astonished to discover how much he did not know about life in the twenty-first century. It was hard work, but his experience as a detective helped him to retain the information he would need to survive in this world. As he complained to Alex, the more he knew, the more he realised that he did not know. They both accepted that, initially, he would just have to learn enough to get by. More would come later, but at first, they would need to work together more closely than might be expected of a Super and DCI.

"I'm afraid you may come across as something of an old fashioned eccentric to begin with, but so be it."

"Oy, Flash Knickers, less of the old an' eccentric!"

Alex dreaded that, sooner or later, he would say something which would give away his ignorance of the past quarter century. The important thing was to teach him as much as possible before that happened. They had both interviewed enough suspects in their time to know that he was more likely to be tripped up on little details than on the larger issues. Their first rule was, that if he did not understand something, he was to keep quiet, ask no questions, and allow someone else to enlighten him.

Fortunately, they did not have to worry about Molly. Alex's heart-rending account of Gene having been forced to go undercover had given Molly a romantic mental image of him living for years in a log hut miles from anywhere with only a radio transmitter for company, so she was not surprised that he had never heard of Dirty Dancing ("always preferred clean dancing myself, love") or did not know that cigarette advertising had been banned for some years. She was mildly shocked that he knew nothing about global warming and had to be reminded continually of the need to recycle. In her usual faintly bossy way, she took it upon herself to teach him about anything he might not know. As this sometimes included things which he did know, he found this galling at times, and Alex frequently held her breath in case he exploded, but much to her relief he managed to get away with nothing more than the odd irritable growl. He knew that he needed both the women in his life too much, to ruin everything with one bad-tempered outburst.

Molly's patient teaching on computer basics proved invaluable, not only in helping him to reach a state of armed truce with Alex's old laptop, but also in bringing them closer together and helping them to know each other better. Alex found it deeply touching to see their reversal of roles, with her proud Lion fairly meekly accepting tuition from her pert little cub. Learning to use Word, Excel, Access, Powerpoint and especially e-mails, nearly drove him to despair. However, once he had got the hang of typing in URLs and storing favourites, he found the internet invaluable as a guide to finding out almost anything he needed to know about the twenty-first century, and he gained mightily in confidence as a result. "He's like a kid with a new toy," Molly reported to Alex. Google and Wikipedia became his reference points, and the idea of being able to buy things online, without the trouble of going to the shops or sending a form in the post, fairly boggled his mind. "Just don't let him loose on eBay or Amazon, or he'll buy so much stuff that we'll have to move house," said Molly darkly.

As he had always used a police radio, he had thought that learning to use a mobile would be a cinch, but he had reckoned without their complexity. Molly gave him one of her old camera mobiles, but he was fazed by the number of buttons and the different things they did. There was an embarrassing incident when Molly rang him to see if he knew how to pick up a call, and he swore at the phone while trying to locate the Answer key. Unfortunately he had not realised that hitting any key answered the call, and Molly, listening on the other end, picked up some expressions which extended her vocabulary in unforeseen ways. A desperate Alex had to threaten Molly with all sorts of punishments if she used her new swear words in public, but she feared that the damage had been done. The climax came when he tried to make a call and ended up photographing his own nose. After that Alex spared him further embarrassment by finding him a very elderly but simple Philips Savvy on eBay, which didn't include any distracting extras such as camera, MP3 player or radio. Even then, after he more or less mastered making and receiving calls, he found texting too fiddly and refused to have anything to do with it. The new Blackberry, to which, as a Super, he would be entitled, would have to wait.

Alex had feared friction, simply because Molly was not used to having a man about the house, and Gene was not used to living with a child. Although she would never have admitted it to either of them, the development which encouraged her most was when she overheard Molly, talking on the phone to a school friend, describing a new teacher as "nice, but about as interesting as a six-hour documentary on sandwiches". Once upon a time, she would just have called that teacher "so lame". If she's imitating Gene's one-liners, she must approve of him.

Gene didn't tell Alex about a very serious conversation which Molly had with him in the second week. One evening after school, while she was teaching him how to send e-mails and Alex was safely out of earshot in the kitchen, she turned him and said, very solemnly, "Gene, you like my Mum a lot, don't you?"

Gene's heart sank. Is this where she warns me off? "Yes, love, I do."

"I mean - really a lot?"

"Yeah. Really a lot."

"Good," Molly said firmly, and Gene breathed again. "I want you to promise me that you'll look after her."

"Of course I will."

"She's not as strong as she looks, you know. She's had to play tough for so long that I think she's forgotten how fragile she is. She probably won't have told you, but she's been badly hurt in the past, and I don't just mean what Layton did to her. Her parents were killed by a car bomb when she was eight, then my Dad left us when I was six months old and she had to bring me up on her own. She told me how the two of you split up when you had to go undercover." Gene nodded gravely. Fortunately Alex had updated him on the version of events she had given to Molly. "There have been boyfriends since, but none of them have been any good. I think that's because she missed you. She even turned down someone who wanted to marry her, because of you."

"Oh?" That bit was news to Gene. "May I ask who?"

"The surgeon who saved her life after - after the shooting." Since Gene had arrived, Molly had been able to use the word, but it was still an effort.

"We all owe 'im, then."

"We do. He'd have looked after her, but she didn't love him. She does love you."

Gene smiled. He was doing that more often these days. "Thanks, lass. I was 'oping she does."

"She seemed to come back to life, the day you arrived. That's how much you mean to her. I haven't always behaved well over her boyfriends, but that was because I was scared that they wanted to take her away from me. I know you won't do that."

"You're right, love. I wouldn't even think of it. An' you mustn't be scared, ever, that she'd leave you or neglect you, for me or any other bloke. Because she's your Mum. When she an' I knew each other - before, she was always talking about you, an' how she had to be with you. She'll always put you first."

"Thank you, Gene. That means so much to me. But I know I'll have to go away and start my own life someday, and that's why I want you to promise that you'll always stay with her. She needs you."

"Promise." Gene held out his hand, and she shook it gravely. "Trust the Gene Genie."

He had never thought that he would feel so glad at being accepted by a twelve-year-old. Holding her small hand, he thought of another little girl whose hand he had held, in the aftermath of an explosion, and who had accepted him. It had all started then.

-oO0Oo-

He bought a red Audi TT Quattro Coupé. His eyes came out on stalks when he saw the pictures on the Audi website, although much of the spec might have been written in Chinese for all the sense it made to him, and he returned from the test drive looking like a new man. Alex smiled fondly, knowing that he would only feel complete in this time once he had his car as well as his woman. She gave him her cherished number plate, a gesture which touched him more that he was prepared to say. He made it clear that she would not be allowed to drive the TT, so as soon as she was cleared to drive, she traded in the Lexus for a red Volkswagen. At least it was German. Molly thought the TT was cooler, and begged to be driven to school in it at least once a week, "so that the girls can see it." Gene, one eyebrow raised, promised to consider it.

Alex had known that they would have a problem with Evan. As she had already told Molly that Evan had never known Gene when she had worked with him before, Molly was very surprised when Evan, meeting Gene one evening when returning her home from the school run, reacted as though he had seen a ghost. Gene, forewarned by Alex, skilfully pretended complete ignorance and, when Evan stammeringly explained the reason for his shock, expressed sorrow that he so closely resembled a former acquaintance of Mr White's who had come to such a tragic end, and even shared the unfortunate man's name. Evan eventually had to accept the situation, but Alex realised that he would never be fully convinced. To him, Alex's new Super and companion would be a constant reminder of his own past. Perhaps his continual sense of unease in Gene's presence was his final punishment for his fatal affair with Caroline.

Alex resolved to ask Samuel Gerard for the site of Summers' grave. Someday, she would leave a bunch of flowers there, and she would say that prayer for him. To judge by what she had heard in that final whisper in the wind, he needed it. She still found it hard to forgive him, but whenever she awakened in the night to find Gene sleeping peacefully beside her, she was prepared to acknowledge that, greatly though Summers had wronged them both, he had done his best, in his own way, to make amends.

One thing which exercised both their minds, was whether they should try to locate their former colleagues from Fenchurch East. At first it was a subject which neither could bear to mention to the other, but eventually Alex, determined that there should be no more room for secrecy or misunderstandings between them, raised it one night when they lay in bed, wrapped in one anothers' arms.

"Christ, Bols, don't think I 'aven't thought of it. I don't know what to do. I'd sell what's left of my soul to know where they are an' what's 'appened to 'em, an' find out if they're okay. Don't want to think what they must've gone through after we both came 'ere, specially Chris. Poor sod must've felt so guilty. Whatever 'e'd done, 'e didn't deserve that."

"I know," said Alex soberly. "But he had Shaz. She wouldn't fail him, whatever happened."

"I know, Summers said that."

"I just don't know how we could explain that we're still alive, and no older than when they knew us last. Remember, you nearly gave Evan a heart attack when he met you the other day."

"Bloody 'ell, I'm trying to think of little Annie as a 62-year-old. An' Ray would be over 70."

She stroked his chest soothingly. "Don't worry about it just yet. At the moment we have to give priority to getting you up to speed on life in 2008."

"That's what's worrying me. Don't know 'ow much more knowledge my brain can cope with."

"You're doing very well. We'll have time to think about whether to look for them, once we've established ourselves at Soho Square and bedded into our new jobs."

"Something else I'm more interested in bedding into." He pulled her under the duvet.

She had not told him that she had made enquiries about the location of the grave of DI Alex Drake, who had died on 13 December 1982, and had learned that he had been buried next to her. Someday she would take him to see it, and would show him the wording on her tombstone, but the idea made her feel uneasy. The happiness they had found in the present would always be shadowed by the thought of what their friends had lost in the past.

-oO0Oo-

Gene had been enraged to learn that he was not allowed to smoke in public places or in his new office. He admitted to Alex that it was the single hardest new thing about his life in 2008. He had reluctantly accepted that he could not smoke in her house - their house, Alex insisted - outside of their bedroom, to avoid exposing Molly to cigarette smoke, but he blew his top when they took a morning out of his lessons to visit Soho Square station and inspect the office suite which was being renovated for them, and the foreman in charge of the building work asked him to extinguish his cigarette.

"Look 'ere, Mister 'Ard 'At, this is goin' to be my office an' my team, an' I will bloody well smoke if I want to!"

"But, sir, there's a non-smoking policy in all Met buildings, and it'll set off the smoke alarms and sprinklers - "

"Disable 'em or I'll disable you!"

"We can't, Sir - it would affect our insurance policy - "

"Er - Gene - there's a lot of exposed wood around while they're making the new partitions," said Alex tactfully. "Perhaps just while we're going around, and you can light up again when we get outside?"

"But 'ow the 'ell am I expected to keep gyp - Eastern European scum off the streets without my nicotine fix?"

She steered him into an empty office and murmured wickedly, "I'm talking to the man who once bugged his own Super's office. I'll never forget the sight of you, standing on Mac's desk. Legs without end. Once we're working here, I'm sure you'll find a way to climb on the desk and disable the smoke alarm in your office. Just don't smoke in the Gents or the corridors."

He muttered something obscene and marched out into the main office. "Right, 'Ard 'At, fag out. Where's my office?

The foreman looked terrified. "On the third floor, sir. If you'd care to follow me - "

"What?" Gene looked as though he was about to blow another gasket. "How am I meant to keep in touch with my team from there? Bloody remote control? One o' these surveillance cameras? An' what's so funny, Drake?"

"Nothing." Alex tried to hide her smile. He would never admit it, but she knew that he dreaded the idea of being located so far from her that he would not be able to ask for her help when some new official term or piece of technology perplexed him. "At least let's go and look at it."

He just about kept his temper in check until they were in the office.

"You see, Sir," said the foreman timidly, "it's the most luxurious office in the place, and much the biggest. Double sized desk, bookcase, side table, conference table seating twelve - "

"Use it for conferences then." Gene was at his calmest and most authoritative. "I believe in keeping close to my team. I'll 'ave an office on the ground floor."

"But there are only two closed rooms there, Sir. One will be DCI Drake's office and the other's the ground floor conference room. The rest is all open plan."

"They can 'old their bleedin' conferences up 'ere." Gene was ruthless. "I'll take the other ground floor room."

"Yes, Sir," said the foreman faintly. "That will mean a change to the work specification. I'll have to make out a variation order. Would you mind coming down to the site office while I type it? We'll need your signature before we can proceed with the variations."

As it happened, Gene did mind, very much, but Alex took him outside for a smoke while the foreman made out the variation, and Gene returned to the site office to sign it, defiantly reeking of fags.

"Don't worry," she whispered consolingly to the foreman before steering Gene out of the building, "he's always like this when he gets nicotine withdrawal symptoms." The foreman nodded and mopped his brow. As they left, she caught sight of staff from the other, already occupied offices, gathered in the doorways and whispering to one another.

They must have heard the shouting. The Manc Lion's reputation precedes him before he starts his first day in his new post. God help all criminal scum and all sloppy, underperforming, politically correct coppers. His reign of terror has already begun.

-oO0Oo-

On their first day at Soho Square, Alex got Evan to take Molly to school one more time, so that she and Gene could sweep into their new kingdom together. On arrival, he marched grandly into his office, and Alex walked around the members of her new team who had already arrived, introducing herself and learning something about them. Some of the paperwork had not arrived yet, and she did not know all their names. Inevitably, there were problems with IT equipment, telephones which had not been connected, and malfunctioning radiators and tea urns. Met efficiency strikes again. The place would be swarming with electricians and IT staff for hours. When the whole of the team had assembled, she intended to take them all off to the conference room, introduce herself and Gene to the team, and do a presentation about the tasks they faced. Fire up the flipchart.

She let herself into her new office and froze at the sight of a single red rose and a long cream envelope on her desk. She knew the writing. God, not again. Not here. She picked the rose up with a tissue, consigned it to the bin, and opened the envelope with trembling fingers. It contained a transfer form and a letter.

My dear Alex,

I trust that the enclosed discharges my remaining obligations to you and to the members of your former team.

In affectionate farewell,

M.S.

She smoothed out the transfer form, read it, smiled broadly, and took it into Gene's office. A couple of minutes later, his door flew open and he barked at the desk sergeant, "Oy! You! When the new DI arrives I want 'im in 'ere right away! Is that clear?"

"Yes, Sir," the hapless Sergeant Perry faltered. Leaving Gene's office, Alex noticed how everyone in her team had jumped at the sound of the Lion's roar. They'll get used to it.

"What a filthy-tempered brute!" DS Terry Vernon muttered in a shocked undertone as she passed his desk.

"Don't worry," she said consolingly. "He and I are old colleagues, so I'm used to it. Underneath he's a very nice man."

"Oh. You mean that his bite isn't as bad as his bark?"

Alex smiled. "Actually," she murmured confidentially, bending over Vernon's desk, "it's a lot worse."

The door of Gene's office flew open again. "DRAKE!"

"Coming, Gu - Sir." Leaving Vernon staring after her, open-mouthed, she scuttled into Gene's office and closed the door. Gene was glaring at his computer screen.

"Bolly, someone's sent me something in this e-mail an' the computer's asking me whether I want to open it or save it!"

"So?"

"So, which do I want to do?"

She looked over his shoulder at the screen. "You won't know whether you want to save it until you've read it, so point the cursor to Open and - "

There was a diffident knock at the door.

"Come in!" Gene roared, still glaring at the screen. The door opened and their new DI walked in. They recognised him at once, even though the thick dark hair was now streaked with grey, not gold, and wire-rimmed spectacles were perched on the prominent nose. Gene rose and held out his hand.

"Morning, Chris. 'Ow's Shaz?"

"Boss? G-Guv?"

The newcomer stared at the man and woman who had died more than a quarter of a century ago, and keeled over in a dead faint. Alex, with a sympathetic cry, seized a glass of water and ran to help him. Gene leaned over his desk, the corners of his mouth twitching in a sardonic smile.

"Y'know, Bolly, this could even be fun."

-oO0Oo-

All right, Mr Summers. You can come in now.

THE END

Now I've finished this story, I have a confession to make. When I first wrote it, the first six chapters were in a different order. What are now Chapters 1, 3 and 5 (the three chapters about Gene in 1982) came first, followed by what are now Chapters 2, 4 and 6 (the three chapters about Alex in 2008). That's because, originally, there was only going to be one chapter about Alex, but when it expanded to three, I decided that I couldn't leave Gene's fate undecided for three whole chapters. I also thought that the Alex chapters weren't so good as the Gene chapters, and that if I put all three together, the story would sag in the middle.

Now that I've posted them, I'm not sure whether I made the right decision. Please let me know what you think, via the poll on my profile page or a review.

Once again, I thank you all!