Plymouth Calling Part One: Chapter One, an ashes to ashes fanfic

Authors Note: Hey again! Not sure how this will turn out but I thought, 'what the hey? - might as well write it up to see what you all think' :) Its set after Mac tells Gene about is transfer. Gene is forced to go and Mac didn't die.

Disclaimer: Don't own anything Ashes :( (Oh, except my white leather jacket! :D)

Plymouth Calling

Part One- Transfer, Trips and Treason

Chapter One-The Ones That Got Away

June 22nd 1982,
Luigi's Italian Restaurant, London.

Alex Drake sat in a desolate corner of Luigis tracing the rim of her glass with her index finger and drunkenly watching her fellow colleagues gossip distractedly about C Division. The bottle of 'house rubbish' stood half full on the table, staring at Alex in a disarming way. She had her head in her right hand and was lounged over the small wooden table.

It had been a tough day, especially as she watched the Manc Lion take one final glance around his kingdom before he left it to hands of anybody. Alex didn't know it, but he had hoped she would be on the receiving end of a promotion to take over, but with Mac so dead set against her, he wasn't surprised that she didn't get it.

Alex replayed the scene over in her head again and again, getting more depressed and angry with the injustice each time. She kicked the chair opposite her and it screeched across the floor, drawing unwanted attention from the rest of CID.

June 21st 1982,
CID, London.

"They can't force you to go. Well, at least not without exposing themselves." Alex placed her glass on the desk and looked up at him with uncertainty, "can they?"

"The truth is Alex, I don't know." Alex noted the use of her first name and took the opportunity to realise that behind the Manc Lion mask, Gene Hunt was worried about his transfer. "Wivout me here, there is nobody t' stop the rot from settin' in...Nobody t' make sure these streets are clear of scum and tha' includes bent coppers."

Alex glanced down at her feet and crossed her ankles. "There's always me, y'know. Contrary to popular belief, I'm not a bad copper just because I'm a woman."

Gene slammed his whiskey glass on his desk and started at her, taking in the delicate way her brown hair curled around her slightly pink cheeks. "No! I will not get you involved with this. T' start off with, they will destroy you. Tha' 'n' you're not a DCI."

Alex was touched by his display of slight protectiveness of her and allowed herself a small smile. That is, until she realised what he'd said. "Oh, so it all comes down to rank now, does it?" She felt her voice rising and the anger set in.

But Gene was determined not to let the others hear, despite the doors being locked and the blinds pulled all the way around. "Oh, shut your lipstick woman, it ain't got anything t' do wiv tha'. It isn't as easy t' be taken down if you're a DCI and besides, you've got more contact 'n' inside information."

Alex felt the colour rise in her cheeks. So, he'd just been looking out for her. Well, he should be; the bastard was leaving her to be transferred to Plymouth. She hadn't plucked up the courage to ask if she could come too, although there was a sense of nagging in her head that couldn't put a finger on. Why would she want to go anyway? And least of all with him?

"Oh, okay." She whispered, not daring to look up at him. "Sorry." She muttered quietly under her breath."

It had been three days since Gene had announced that he was being transferred to Plymouth Crime Squad and since then, he and Alex had hardly set foot outside his office in CID. They discussed, sometimes very loudly, about what to do with Mac; they had come so close to destroying him, but somehow he'd managed to escape. They had talked about trivial things such as what would happen to the kingdom now that he wasn't going to be there, and about random things, such as their futures.

Gene and Alex had got through numerous bottles of Luigi's 'house rubbish' and whiskey, but neither could drown the sorrows that each other felt about losing the other.

For, Alex it was about losing the person who made her safe and who always made sense in this world, even when sometimes it looked like he was a bad guy. She had learned his style of policing and he was a damn good copper. She had to admit that the driving needed some work and the 'evidence' issue needed resolving, but aside from that, Alex could fault him none. However, his lifestyle- the smoking and excessive drinking was not good for him. God, she thought, Sam was right. I'm going to have to sort them out. Although, I could live with it, especially as he has many redeeming qualities-that blondish hair and those eyes...I live for those eyes. Oh, heck, what she saying? It sounds like Alex Drake was in love.

For Gene, it was about losing the posh, mouthy tart that had waltzed into his station and took his world by storm. She was authority challenging, reckless and just down-right crazy, but he had gained an unprecedented respect for her and her psycho-bollocks. Admittedly, she was a bird and had a great arse, which he wasn't afraid to ogle at, and she knew it. But there was something else about her-something mysterious, something that didn't add up. She was always talking about going home, although that sort of crazy talk had subsided since the Price's were blown up. He would be damned if he was going to let her go without fight-and that include taking Mac on if anything happened to her. Oh, bollocks, what was he saying? It sounded like something a poof would say-Gene Hunt was in love.

He glanced back up at her to realise that she was already looking at him. He hazel eyes were full of uncertainty, and for a brief moment, he wondered if she felt the same. No way-he pushed that thought to the back of his mind-she wouldn't go for somebody like him.

Alex looked adoringly down at him from her perched position on the side of his desk, he back towards the office door. For a second, she looked into his stormy blue eyes and thought she saw a trace of regret-unhappiness even. But that was impossible; he'd never go for a 'posh mouthy tart' like her.

Oblivious to the turmoil out in CID that was seeping into every corner; they continued to sit in companionable silence, until a voice interrupted their thoughts and fears.

Oblivious to the show of emotions that was going on the office, Ray, Chris and Shaz were discussing the future of the department without the Guv.

"Well, I reckon, it'll just be us three in the end," Shaz said miserably, not missing a beat on her typewriter. "There's no doubt about it; Ma'am will go with the Guv to Plymouth."

"No way!" Ray shook his head with disgust, "The Guv'll never let her go with him."

"Yeah, he will Ray, haven't you seen the way they look at each other in Luigi's? Actually, you probably haven't." Shaz swivelled around on her chair and gestured to the office door. "But they haven't set foot in this room since he announced that he was leaving, and everyday Ma'am emerged with a sad look on her face. They haven't argued in over seventy two hours and that a record if I ever did see one."

"Well, even if he did, it would only be for a quick shag; the Guv doesn't do love, does he Chris?"

Chris glanced up from his arrest reports and looked over at Shaz. He picked up a blunt pencil and started doodling on a piece of paper. "Well, I dunno mate. He does seem different since she arrived. Maybe he's changed." Chris shrugged his shoulders and ducked to avoid the pencils and rubbers that were being thrown at him.

"Poof! We've know the Guv...what? - About ten years? He hasn't changed his attitude towards birds since '72, and he ain't gonna change now!"

There was a chorus of "too rights!" and "Ray's right." The man in question took a long drag of his cigarette and stole a glance at the blinds the concealed the windows to the Guv's office. "I bet they're shagging in there right now!"

" 'cuse me Bolls, I do believe we've caused a round of gossip." Alex frowned as Gene jumped up from his chair and rounded towards the door, his mouth set in a familiar pout. She swivelled he legs around so she was facing the door and raised an eyebrow as he draw back the blinds.

Retching the door open, he stormed out into CID and let all hell rip loose. "Wha' are you twats talkin' about? Don't ya have work to be doing insteada gossipin' like old women? Raymondo-My office."

Ray glanced nervously around CID and smirked in the direction of the office. "I bet she's against the clock trying to get her clothes on!" Shaz rolled her eyes and resumed typing but the rest of CID just started at the office door where their nutty DI stood with a glass of whiskey in her left hand, right hand on her hip.

"You got something to say, Ray?" She asked, a dangerous glint in her eye, her pink lips set in a straight line.

Gene stood next to her with his arm keeping the door open for the sheepish-looking Ray.

June 22nd 1982,
Luigi's Italian Restaurant, London.

Looking back, it had actually amused that CID thought that they were shagging. She smiled drunkenly at the empty seat. It was always going to be empty. She still hadn't asked him if she could go with him because he'd already given the reason without realising. Gene had said that Mac was transferring him to keep them apart and that he'd never sign the papers for her to go.

Alex let her head fall to the table as she tried, unsuccessfully to restrain the tears. She'd lost her best friend, her constant, her...love?

Wiping away a lonely tear dejectedly, she clinked her glass against the empty one opposite and listened to the background music as the song changed. The first few chords struck and she instantly glanced up at the presence of a man looming over her.

She blinked several times and through her drunken haze, she realised the guy was the same Thatcherite wanker she'd met over a year ago.

Well I remember, I remember,
don't worry, how could I ever forget
It's the first time,
the last time we ever met

She gasped at the meaning of the words and quickly realised what song it was. She shook her head furtively. "No." She commanded drunkenly. With that she grabbed the remaining wine on the table and walked very unsteadily over to the steps of her flat.

While opening the door, a ghostly presence overwhelmed her and she heard Gene say, "Well done, Bolls. I'm impressed. Always thought you couldn't handle your drink...I was wrong."

But she turned, all she could hear were the lyrics of In the Air Tonight.

Well the hurt doesn't show,
but the pain still grows
It's no stranger to you and me
I can feel it coming in the air tonight,
oh Lord
Well been waiting for this moment for all my life,
oh Lord

She slammed the door.

June 23rd 1982,
Alex Drake's Flat, London.

Surprisingly, Alex Drake did not have the headache or hangover she thought she would. Then again, she didn't actually consume that much alcohol.

Almost mechanically, she picked out her favourite top and jeans and got dressed thinking about the day ahead. It was the first day at CID that Gene wouldn't be there.

And it was killing her softly and silently.

She grabbed some cereal from the box and sat down at the table. Holding her head in her left hand, Alex remembered that she didn't have any make-up on. Oh, screw it, she thought, it doesn't matter anyway. I'm not trying to impress anyone. Not anymore.

June 24rd 1982,
Alex Drake's Flat, London.

Alex rolled out from under her soft duvet and walked to her roughed up wardrobe. Almost mechanically, she picked out her favourite top and jeans and got dressed thinking about the day ahead. It was the second day at CID that Gene wouldn't be there.

And it was killing her softly and silently.

But still she carried on.

June 25rd 1982,
Alex Drake's Flat, London.

And it was killing her softly and silently.

But still she carried on.

Damn you Gene Hunt. You haven't come to say one last goodbye. I'll bet you've moved on the pastures new. New women to ogle at; new officers to shout at; new suspects to beat up. Well, I'm not going to be the one to mope over a man. If you can move on, so can I.

With that, she grabbed her trademark blue eyeshadow, sat in front of the mirror and started to apply it. With a smile, she locked her door and skipped down the stairs, greeting Luigi as she passed him.

He blinked at her blankly. Signorina Drake had not moved that quickly or brightly since Signor Hunt had left. Si, si, Luigi sees and hears more than they think. He know that they are in love.

June 25th 1982,
CID, London.

"Morning, everybody," Alex smiled cheerily at everybody, waving and Shaz and sitting down at her desk. There was a stunned silence.

Ray muttered underneath his breath, "Somebody got lucky last night." A ripple of laughter ran through CID and Alex frowned at Ray. However, before she could make a comeback using words that he'd never heard of, a gruff voice reprimanded him.

"Is that disrespect, DS Carling? I hope that won't be an ongoing problem in this Department."

Alex glanced up at the tall man in a dark suit with the top button neatly done up. His tie was plain black, and he had glasses which, if they were tainted, would have resembled Men in Black. Unable to stifle a giggle, Alex swallowed nervously and snorted in a rather unladylike fashion.

"Excuse me." The man said in a disgusted tone. His manner was very to the point and gruff. It was as if everybody was beneath him, "but I do believe that as a WPC you should be respecting all your superior offices. Although, why you're in plain clothes I don't know, so maybe you could explain."

If Alex had turned around to face CID, she would have found the scene hilarious. Ray had dropped his cigarette on the floor and was now frozen in shock. Shaz had ceased typing and was glancing nervously at Alex and at SuperMac who was flanking the new man. Chris threw Shaz a worried look, nobody talked to DI Drake like that, whether she was a woman or not. If the Guv was here that guy would have been in big trouble.

Alex took a deep breath and glared at Mac with a dangerous glint in her eye. She pushed her chair back and stood up, glad of the heels on her boots that gave her added height. She held out her hand in a polite manner and gave a smile clipped smile.

"Good morning, sir. My name is DI Alexandra Drake and I am running this department until our new DCI arrives." She gestured to CID who all nodded respectfully at her to show she had a hold over them all. However, what she didn't know is that the Guv had told them all to listen to her because 'a whole lotta shit is goin' down.'

The man in black turned to Mac, and they whispered quietly to each other for a few minutes. Mac gestured to Gene's old office and the man in black walked into it and drew the blinds across. Alex felt a pang of hurt at seeing somebody else in there.

Mac clapped his hands together, "Right, then. This is Detective Chief Inspector Franklin Heath. He is the new DCI and will be running this department from on. DCI Heath is here also the put CID back on track with regards to protocol." With a curt nod to Alex, he left the room.

In shock, Alex sat down in her seat and ran a hand through her hair. Bollocks.

June 25th 1982,
CID, Plymouth.

Bollocks. Gene Hunt was sat at his new desk, surveying his new team. Unlike CID in London, CID in Plymouth was very quiet. Almost too quiet. They were always working and never seemed interesting in joining in with his crude jokes or mannerisms. There was one woman in the entire department and she was plump with scruffy black hair and angry eyes. He steered clear of her. The DS was nothing like Ray at all. He was a scrawny lad with many spots and reminded Gene of the kid that had blown up a house using 1940s dynamite last year. The DC was a strong man in his late thirties that had a permanent smile etched on his face. Poof. The DI was the worse. He was massively over the top with protocol and rules and his desk was immaculate, just like all his arrest forms, persecution forms and interview records.

All in all, Gene missed his team.

And to make it worse, he missed his Bolly.

He wondered what she was doing now. Probably organising some sort of team building exercise. Bloody infuriating woman!

June 26th 1982,
CID, London.

Alex Drake was not a happy woman.

At 4 am, the Heist Squad had intercepted a major blag in Hyde Park. It had been the result of months of undercover work and tip-offs from all departments across the country. However, the twats that they are usually spend all day with their technology and have next to no experience in the actually field. So, once they had got hold of all of the scum, they managed to let the main suspect and best lead, flee the scene.

And so that is how, three-and-a-half hours later, Alex was sat at her desk liaising with the DCI of Heist Squad about how to catch him.

The suspects name was Skye Kenning and she was just twenty-fours old. Apparently, she had been the head of an operation that was transporting stolen goods from clothes to gold and everything in between.

To make things worse, the new DCI had it in for her, simply because she had more respect from the team than he did. He made her pull all the weight of the paperwork and once even tried to get her to make him coffee!

To Alex, DCI Heath was a very strange man. He was always on the phone in his office and the blinds were constantly drawn. Something was definitely suspicious about him, but Alex couldn't place it.

Glancing at the clock, she realised that it was time for a break. She stood up and clapped her hands together. "Right everybody. We've been here for almost four hours. Take an hour's break and come back at ten when we'll pick this up again."

CID nodded and dived out the door towards the toilets and the canteen.

Alex walked into the kitchenette and put the kettle on. From her position, she noticed that one of the blinds was broken in the office and that DCI Heath was staring at her warily.

Eyes wide, she turned back to the counter as the door to the empty CID slammed shut and a gentle backlash of air swirled around her feet.

Her heels clicked loudly on the floor as she strolled after her DCI. Poking her head out of the door, she saw him turn into Mac's office.

Rushing back into her DCI's office, she ransacked the filing cabinets and noticed that Gene never took down the bug that they placed in Mac's office. Excellent.

She stood next to the radio and turned it up slightly and leant right in towards the receiver to listen in. She was not disappointed.

"Shut the ruddy door! What's wrong? You can't come in here every time you get scared."

"It's Drake."

"Oh, shit. What's happened?"

"I think she's getting suspicious of us. Especially with this blag that went wrong."

"Damn, I knew I should've suspended her permanently. Do you think she still has contact with Hunt?"

"If she does, she's very good at hiding it."

"She's a slippery bitch that one; watch her. Her and Hunt have been on my back since that bloody Jarvis incident. Has anybody caught Skye yet?"

"No, sir. But Drake is building a very detailed profile and we're getting close."

"Okay, well, you know the drill. Make sure you interview her and not Drake. If she gets wind of this...well, bloody hell! We're all screwed."

"Do you think she'll squeal?"

"Who, Skye? -Without a doubt, but you know what to do with her anyway."

"Right sir."

The was a creaking as a door opened. Alex jumped.

"Oh, and one more thing. Drake's a bird. And birds are easily taken care of."

Alex stood, stunned at Mac's last remark. How far would he go to get her out the way?

One thing was crystal clear to Alex:

He's in league with Mac.

And Gene was all the way in the bloody West Country.

Shit.

Authors Note: What d'ya think? I was intended to be a one shot,but I've got some more ideas for it so please drop me a line if you want more :)

Finding Answers xx