So nice to be writing again. Life's been somewhat stressful the last few months and the muse did a bunk for a while, but I've been on holiday and this is the result! Seems I can't step away from Gene and Alex for too long ...

xxxxx

Hide and Seek

Chapter 1

"Jesus, Bols. What the hell were yer thinkin'? Yer could've been killed, yer dozy mare …"

He loomed over her, his hair tousled from where he'd been running frustrated fingers through it, fixing her with that steely glare that always turned her insides to mush. She took a calming breath and then shrugged nonchalantly, trying to appear unaffected.

"Well, I wasn't, was I? And I was just trying to do what any good copper would've done under the circumstances. How was I supposed to know the getaway car would come out of nowhere and almost run me down?"

The muscles in his jaw clenched, his stormy blue eyes flashing sparks at her. God, he was sexy when he was angry.

"Yer stepped right out in front of the bloody thing, woman! Worse, yer stared Malcolm McCauley straight in the eye."

"I know. I've just identified him and one of the others, the man at the wheel. Hopefully with my testimony we can get them both put away for a very long time."

Gene sucked in an exasperated breath and raised his eyes heavenwards, attempting to regain his equilibrium.

"That's all very well, Madam Fruitcake, but we 'ave ter catch the bugger first. And now that dubious honour will go ter someone else, probably that twat DCI Sykes from Fenchurch West."

Alex's eyebrows shot up, betraying her confusion.

"Oh? And why's that, then?"

He sighed heavily, his anger and frustration dissolving into a weary resignation.

"Because, DI Drake, you are goin' into witness protection for yer own good, and apparently I'm accompanyin' you as chief babysitter."

She opened her mouth to protest, but he continued before she had the chance.

"Don't you get it, Alex? He saw yer face. Chances are he recognised you, yer hardly low profile as the only female DI in the bloody Met. Yer life's in constant danger now until that bastard's safely behind bars again."

She searched his eyes, quailing under his piercing gaze, still reluctant to believe they were in such dire straits. He pouted at her morosely.

"They don't call him Mad Malc fer nothin', yer know, Bols. He's a cast iron, dyed in the wool, twenty-four carat nutter, and he'll stop at nothin' ter shut you up."

He crossed his arms and furrowed his brows thoughtfully.

"Mind you, 'spose I can't really blame him for that. God knows, I've been tryin' ter do it fer long enough."

Alex rolled her eyes, not appreciating his attempt to lighten the atmosphere.

"I don't need you acting as a babysitter come bodyguard, Gene. I'll just hide away in the flat until McCauley's safely in custody."

Gene shook his head impatiently.

"First place he'll look. 'Sides which, these are orders from on high – neither of us gets a choice in the matter. Right, yer need ter pack a bag toot sweet and then we'll be off."

She blinked at him in some confusion.

"Off where?"

"That's fer me ter know and you ter find out. Now, mush …"

xxxxx

Once she'd shoved a few clothes and toiletries into a bag, she joined Gene in the Quattro, still vigorously protesting her dissatisfaction with the entire situation. Gene pointedly ignored her, driving like a maniac around the streets of the capital for a good twenty minutes before he spoke again.

"I've been waitin' patiently fer you to draw breath but it seems yer never run short of oxygen, so could yer just put a sock in it fer half a minute and check to see if we've got anyone tailin' us?"

Alex huffed but did as he asked, watching the road behind in the passenger mirror until she was sure.

"Nope, all clear. Will we be there soon?"

She slanted him a questioning look and he grimaced.

"Please tell me yer not goin' ter keep askin' every five bloody seconds."

"Wouldn't need to if you'd just be more forthcoming …"

She mumbled it under her breath and he didn't bother to reply, swinging the Quattro into a residential side street and slowing right down until he spotted Ray leaning nonchalantly against a wall, a cigarette dangling from his lips. Pulling into the first available space, he blew out a long breath before switching the engine off, a muscle twitching in his jaw.

"The things I do fer you, Lady Bols."

After a brief conversation with his deputy, Gene reluctantly exchanged the keys to the Quattro for a different set and Ray grinned at him, clearly enjoying his superior officer's obvious discomfort. Gene rescued Alex's bag from the boot and indicated for her to follow him with a swift nod before stalking across the road to a big silver Range Rover. He stowed her holdall on the backseat next to a smaller one before shouting over his shoulder.

"Any marks on my bloody car, Raymondo, and you'll find yerself back on the beat quicker than yer can say "PC Plod". Do we understand one another?"

Ray smirked, making himself comfortable in the driver's seat of the Quattro.

"Hearin' yer loud and clear, Guv. Do 'ave a lovely time and don't forget ter write."

Gene gave a dismissive snort in reply, and she could see the tension in his posture as the red car drew away from the kerb and vanished round the corner with a squeal of tyres.

"Right, Bols. Let's go, before I'm tempted to disobey orders and chase that pillock all the way back to Fenchurch East."

xxxxx

As they headed out of London and joined the west-bound M4, Alex crossed her arms and threw him a mutinous glance.

"How much further? At least tell me where we're headed, Guv."

He shook his head, pulling into the outside lane.

"No can do, not till we're further away. I've got me orders."

She huffed, turning the radio on and finding a music station, not in the mood to make polite conversation. After half an hour or so, Gene glanced down at his watch.

"It's almost seven. You hungry, Bols?"

She shrugged noncommittally.

"Not got much of an appetite but I should eat something, I suppose."

"We'll stop at the next services then."

Twenty minutes later Gene was tucking into a burger and chips while Alex toyed with a salad, watching him with distaste.

"Ugh, I don't know how you can eat that. You really should give your arteries a break occasionally, you know."

His penetrating gaze roamed over her, sending a frisson of excitement down her spine.

"You should try one every now and then, Lady Bols. Might put a bit of flesh on yer bony arse, give a bloke somethin' ter grab hold of."

She snorted, feeling the colour rise in her face.

"You leave my arse out of it. And don't get any ideas just because we're going to be spending some time alone together."

He gave her an affronted look but she saw the smirk tugging at his lips.

"The thought never crossed me mind."

She raised a cynical eyebrow and he shrugged.

"Alright, it might 'ave crossed me mind once or twice, specially after yer flashed yer assets at me in that vault. I am a red-blooded male in the prime of life, after all. Anyway, yer safe enough, I'll need ter focus all me attention on keepin' you out of trouble, judgin' by past performance."

She crossed her arms and fixed him with what she hoped was a withering glare.

"Firstly, I did not 'flash my assets', as you so colourfully put it, I was just attempting to survive the extreme heat. Secondly, I do not need you to take care of me, I'm perfectly capable of doing that on my own."

It was his turn to snort.

"Yeah. Because yer've done such a great job of that so far."

She opened her mouth to retort, but he held a hand up to stop her.

"And be that as it may, yer stuck with me, Madam Fruitcake. Orders are orders, whether we like it or not."

As they got back into the car, she decided to try again.

"Surely you can tell me where we're headed now, Gene? We're miles away from London, for God's sake."

He stared at her for a couple of seconds, and then his expression softened.

"Don't 'spose it'll do any harm now. Hope yer've brought yer bikini, Bols. We're off to Cornwall."

"Cornwall?" It came out as a high-pitched squeak. "You have got to be kidding me!"

He shook his head, a glimmer of amusement in his eyes.

"Even the great SuperMac couldn't get me as far as the West Country but it appears you've succeeded where he failed …"

xxxxx

I have no idea how realistic this scenario is but I'm hoping you'll all just go with it - its really just a sneaky ruse to get them alone together with the threat of possible jeopardy hanging over them!

Hope you enjoy. If so, this could run to several chapters ...