Disclaimer: I don't own Ashes to Ashes. The fact that it is no longer on TV is not one I'm especially happy with, but what can you do?

Cardoxymide doesn't exist in the real world.

This is probably set around 1983/1984, having disregarded series 2 (not that there was anything wrong with it, it just doesn't fit). I hope you like it.

"DCI Hunt?"

Alex gritted her teeth, before replacing it with a polite smile. She hated that name, she hated herself every time she responded to it, as though she was insulting his memory. Still what could she do? It was her name after all.

"Yes Viv?" she said pleasantly, all though inside she felt terrible.

"The letter from the hospital, Ma'am. Labs did their tests, it's clean. No fingerprints either."

Alex carried on smiling the same deliberate everything-is-fine smile that she had been practicing for the past six months, took the letter and hurried to CID.

She burst though the double doors and noticed again how people looked up expectantly before looking away again. Not everyone was good at hiding their disappointment. Alex fought back tears as she made her way to what was now her office.

I miss him too, she wanted to scream.

Inside her office, she studied the letter. It was the same as the others that the Department of Health and Fenchurch Maternity Unit had received, all though this was the first one in many months. All though the case was still ongoing- Alex for one wouldn't rest until it was solved- they thought the League had broken. Unfortunately it seemed it was not the case.

End prescriptions of the evil drug now. Failure to do so will result in untold misery- AL

Alex sighed and put the letter on the desk. Of course the League hadn't broken up, Cardoxymide was still legal- just- as was still being prescribed to pregnant women and the League were still twisted and blind enough to think this was a problem.

Alex massaged her temples with the tips of her fingers and stood up to open her door, taking the letter with her and approaching DI Carling. She thrust the letter under his nose. Chris saw this and wondered over.

"A photocopy, Ma'am?" asked Ray, looking quizzically up at her before he remembered. Still Alex reminded him.

"The Department of Health got the original. No pathogens, no fingerprints, nothing, just a warning," she said, taking the letter back and passing it to Shaz, "Shaz, could you make some copies of this for our files?"

"Yes Ma'am," said DC Granger. Everyone had moved up a rank since…

"What does it mean by 'untold misery'?" said Chris frowning.

"I don't know," said Alex thoughtfully, "They haven't given us a deadline either. That probably means there'll be another letter."

"So we might get more clues then?" said Ray, exhaling smoke.

"We shouldn't depend on it," said Alex looking aimlessly until her eyes came to rest on her door.

Ray looked nervously between Hunt and the office door. He knew that look on her face. It was a diluted expression from the one he had seen six months ago after she had woken up but he knew that the emotions were still raw inside her. The pain, the guilt, the feeling that she was living in somebody's shadow. And it wasn't that she wanted to escape the shadow, quite the opposite.

And it was all there on the office door. DCI Alex Hunt. Gene had been removed and replaced with his widow's name and so every time someone happened to glance at it, they knew something was wrong. And every time the Ma'am looked at her own damn name on her own damn door, it was as though she had lost him all over again.

XXX

The fair haired man looked up as the door opened. In walked a man with a plate of some unidentifiable meat covered in watery gravy and some cutlery. His placed it on the floor and lay a cigarette beside it before sitting on a hard wooden chair and lighting his own.

"You don't mind do you?"

The fair haired man shook his head but said nothing. He stared at the food but didn't make any movement towards it, staying where he was on his bare mattress leaning against the wall.

"Eat up then," said the man on the chair cheerfully then caught the expression on the other man's face. Fear and hatred, all mixed together. Jesus, the guy was scared. Brave as a frigging lion according to legend, but that couldn't hide every fear and right now they were all there, dancing across his eyes for a split second till he looked down again.

"I haven't poisoned it you know," said the man on the chair kindly, "Honest. If we wanted to kill you we'd have done it by now. Even if we decided to kill you now, we wouldn't waste time by poisoning you-" the fair man looked up scornfully- "we'd just put a bullet in you."

"I thought bullets weren't your thing."

The man on the chair laughed. "They aren't generally. But they are effective, even the League knows that."

The fair haired man leaned forward and picked up the knife and fork to carefully cut into the steak and place the meat in his mouth. It was cold and overcooked and the gravy was too watery to have any taste but he was hungry.

Within a few minutes, the plate was clean. The man on the mattress picked up the cigarette and looked hopefully at the man on the chair.

"Would you like a light, Hunt?"

"Please," he replied.