"Easy… easy Guv… the ambulance will be here soon."

"Take her!"

"I can't."

"Tyler, you great twat…"

"Gene… it's not her time. You know that. She's not ready."

"She leaves when I say so! Which is now!"

"I know you want to keep her safe…"

"What… what if she forgets?"

"Come on Sleeping Beauty, we're home."

Alex's eyes snapped open. She shook her head, trying to rid herself of the last traces of her dream. It was difficult to believe that she was sitting safe and warm in Gene's car and not bleeding to death on a cold street. The pain of her healing wounds was a poignant reminder of how close she'd come to dying but Alex had come to accept that she might never recall the exact details. She'd seen it night after night in her dreams, only for them to fade come morning. It was bloody frustrating. Alex was sure she had forgotten something important.

She'd had a lot of time to think during the days she had spent in hospital. Most of her thoughts had been occupied with the man who was currently holding the door open for her. With a groan, Alex let Gene Hunt help her out of the car.

"Alright?" he questioned as she stood still for a moment.

"Yes… no," she admitted.

"Make up your mind."

"Headache."

Alex was reluctantly coming to the conclusion that she wasn't as well as she had thought. Climbing the stairs up to her flat seemed like too much effort and she was grateful when Gene slipped his arm about her waist to support her. Alex was all too aware that he hadn't escaped unscathed. There was a slight hesitation to his walk. A limp that became more pronounced as he helped her up the stairs. Not for the first time, Alex realised that they would always bear the scars of Jim Keats' betrayal.

It felt strange to walk back into the flat as if nothing had every happened. The place felt cold, unlived in, and Alex shivered as Gene set her down on the sofa. She got up straight away, intending to put the heating on, only to find Gene blocking her path.

"Easy love," he said, "What do you need?"

Alex frowned. He'd been using that term of endearment a lot recently and not in a condescending fashion. What was she missing?

"Cold," she admitted.

"Alright, get yourself into bed and I'll make you a brew. How does that sound?"

"That sounds… good… thank you."

Something was definitely wrong. The last time Gene had offered to make her tea it had been 1981 and she'd been dressed like a prostitute. Surprised and confused by his behaviour, Alex let him help her through to the bedroom. She was sorely tempted to crawl under the duvet as she was, but Alex decided that if she tried Gene would just do the undressing for her.

"Tea?" she prompted as he stood there watching her.

"Right, yes… back in a minute."

Ten minutes later, Alex wished that she had asked him to stay. The effort of taking her clothes off and putting her pyjamas on had left her weak and shaking. Not to mention the fact that she couldn't seem to get her bra off. Reaching round her back to undo the clasp hurt more than she cared to admit. And however much she wriggled she couldn't manage to get it off any other way. The additional discomfort of the underwire digging into her was almost enough to make her cry. She was sobbing in frustration when Gene finally came back into the room.

He didn't say anything, just put the mug he was holding down on the dressing table, before moving to help her. With more ease that she felt entirely comfortable with, he undid her bra. She felt him pause, his breath warm on her neck and for one insane moment she thought he was going to kiss her. Then she felt his hand brush against the livid scar tissue.

"I'll never forgive that bastard for what he did to you."

Alex was sorely tempted to slap his hand away but she was too busy clutching her bra over her breasts in an attempt to maintain was left of her modesty. His touch wasn't unwelcome, just surprising. So much so that she let him slip her pyjama top over her head without voicing any complaint. She was too busy trying to make sense of the voices in her head.

"Bra opens front or back, Bols?"

"You will never, ever, ever know Guv."

There was a slight smile on his face as he helped her into bed and tucked the duvet around her shoulders. He handed her the tea, steadying the mug as she took a sip of the strong, sweet liquid.

"Well?" she demanded, the slight embarrassment making her voice more strident than usual.

"Well what?"

"Aren't you going to make some kind of smutty remark?"

"Great tits Bols … will that do? "

To her disappointment, Alex felt herself go red… as Gene's smile became a fully fledged grin, but it didn't last long. The smile faded as he placed a chaste kiss on her forehead before saying.

"I'll be downstairs if you need anything."

'So true, funny how it seems,

Always in time but never in line for dreams.

Head over heels when toe to toe…

Music, dancing… it had to be a dream, didn't it? She couldn't imagine Gene swaying to a slow song. Drunken dad type dancing maybe… Somehow Alex knew that if she let him go now she would never find out. And she didn't want to let him go.

"Stay," she said.

"Here?" Gene replied gesturing towards the bed.

"Yes… please, Gene."

"Okay."

Alex sat back and watched as he removed his jacket and boots… then after a moment's hesitation, his trousers and shirt. There was a moment of awkwardness as they tried to find a position comfortable enough to accommodate their respective injuries. Close enough to touch, but not enough to hurt. They were silent for a moment, each adjusting to the new closeness… except it wasn't new. The feeling of déjà vu was somehow stronger now.

"Gene," she said suddenly.

"What?"

"Tell me."

"Tell you what?"

"Everything."

"Alex…"

"I need to remember."

He nodded, bringing her head to rest against his shoulder as he began to talk. For perhaps the first time in three years, Alex listened to him without interrupting. When he was done she kissed him softly on the mouth, happy in the knowledge that he had been completely honest and open with her. As she drifted off to sleep one last memory drifted into her mind. Gene's voice…

"Love you, Alex."

/\/\/\/\/\/\

They'd buried him on the hill, under the northern skies where he'd lived for all of his short life. There was no name on the grave. It was just a simple stone carved with the words 'Rest in Peace'. Two people stood there, soaked by rain that beat mercilessly on the unforgiving earth.

"Are you okay?" the woman said.

The man didn't reply, choosing instead to pull her close for a bruising kiss. She went willingly, clinging onto him with just as much passion. Looking at them, no one would believe that they had been together for more than two decades. When they finally broke apart, the woman stepped forward, placing a single white rose next to the stone.

"What now?" she asked.

"Now… now I think we need to go for a drink."

She nodded. It was time. Taking her hand, the man led her down the hill.