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Repetitions of the Future	By : gallygaskins Category: 1 through F > Ashes to Ashes Views: 1464 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Ashes to Ashes and I do not earn any money from this fanfiction.

Chapter List
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Chapter 2 – Friendship over breakfast, turmoil before dinner.

Alex lay awake for what seemed like hours. She looked over at the old clock radio with the figures that moved around on bits of plastic and realised it had only been 20 minutes. ‘What was the use in sharing a problem if you couldn’t halve it,’ she thought. She’d imagined that lying in Gene’s bed would’ve helped her to sleep, his scent enveloping her as she lay between the sheets cocooning her from the outside world. She’d even picked up the pillow he’d been using, the place where he’d been lying still evident from the hollow made by his head in the encased feathers. She tried to breathe him in but even then she realised it was nothing like being with the real thing and the calming influence he had over her at times.

Slowly, she sat up and got out of the bed making a move for the door that was slightly ajar. She crept into the open space of the lounge area finally stopping when she reached the sofa. She looked down at the form of her DCI wrapped in a blue blanket, the faintest of smiles tracing her lips. As soon as he had become aware of her presence he looked up at her and held up the edge of the blanket, an unspoken invitation for her to join him. She didn’t need to be asked twice and lay down beside him as he wrapped her up in the blanket with him.

Their bodies spooned; she felt one arm reach under her head to support it, his head finding a nestled position in the crook of her neck. His warm breath caressed her earlobe as they became melded, one form to the other. His other arm snaked its way under her free arm resting in position over her waist, his fingertips barely touching her smooth stomach. Her own hand formed around his, their fingers entwining as she slid her hand over his. They were soon breathing as one, both following and leading the other with their own rhythmic pattern and were just as soon asleep.

She woke to the gentle swaying of her body as Gene effortlessly picked her up once more and padded into the bedroom with her. She moved to hold onto him, not wanting to be left alone again, “its ok, Alex. I couldn’t stay on that uncomfortable sofa any longer, I were getting a bit stiff.” He laid her back in the spot she had vacated earlier and whilst he moved around the bed to the other side she rearranged the pillows and sheets so that they were somewhat back in place. She began to watch him, rolling back the corner of the sheets as he took off his dressing gown unveiling his body dressed only in a vest and boxers. Alex let out a giggle. “What’s so funny, Bolly?” Gene growled; as he lay down beside her watching her intently.

“It’s just I’d thought you’d be wearing y-fronts, I mean boxers haven’t been around that long have they and my dad was still in y’s in 1981!”

He smiled despite her laughing at him, “I suppose that in 2007 there’s some other kind of fetching underwear that is in fashion and that would be unseemly for the Gene Genie to be wearin’?”

“I never said they were unseemly did I, just didn’t expect a man of your calibre to be wearing them!”

“I do believe you’re yanking my chain, DI Drake,” he joked.

“No, if I was going to take the piss out of you I’d have said something about the vest!” His eyebrows rose at her remark. “They’re not really a sexual turn-on in 2007. I actually think you look very fetching in boxers, I like boxer briefs even more so but they’ll not be around for ooh a good 10 to 15 years yet.”

“Boxer briefs?” He questioned.

“Yes, well they’re like a cross between a boxer and a pair of y-fronts, I suppose. About the same length as those you’re wearing but figure hugging like a brief.”

“Oh, makes perfect sense now you’ve mentioned them to me,” he said sarcastically. “Right, well I think it’s about time we both went back to sleep!” His eyes met hers and he half smiled, nervous from being so close to her.

“Is that an order?” She asked nonchalantly noticing the nervousness in his face and wondering if she hadn’t taken things a little too far.

“It’s just that …” he struggled, his words failing him. He turned onto his back breaking the spell between them as his eyes rested on the white artexed ceiling above them.

Alex sat up, “I’m sorry, Gene. I’m obviously making you uncomfortable; I’ll go and try the sofa again!” She made a move to get out of the bed but was suddenly held back, Gene’s hand was on her wrist pulling her toward him against her better efforts to remove herself. Her balance faltered and they were soon facing one another again, only this time they were closer.

“Don’t go,” he whispered to her, pushing back a limp curl from her face so that he could look into an unobstructed pair of bewitching eyes. Cradled within his arms once again she felt his frame loosen against hers, each limb of her lower body touching its respective partner of Gene’s. Her arms instinctively found their way around his neck as her head arched resting against his chest. They both relaxed into one another and it wasn’t long before slumber soon took them both for a second time that morning.

She awoke to the sound of a rush of water, ‘Gene must be in the shower,’ she thought. Getting up from the luxury of the bed she made her way out into the hallway. A few steps more and she was in the kitchen inspecting cupboards and the fridge to see if she could find anything to eat or drink, beside the remnants of the whiskey bottle that had stood on the side presumably where Gene had left it earlier on that morning. There wasn’t much but she would be able to make something. A couple of omelettes would suffice if she could only find a pan to cook them in. At least he had coffee and, by some small miracle, some sugar and milk too. Alex set to work busying herself in the kitchen, plumping up the cushions of the sofa, folding up the discarded blanket from earlier on, sorting out the sheets and pillows of the bed – it was the least she could do for waking Gene up so early and making him listen to her rambling on for so long. After about quarter of an hour she had become accustomed to his residence whirling around like a pro, setting the table and finishing off the food.

She turned quickly as she heard him audibly inhale, and seeing a bright face matched it with her own. She took in the sight before her, his underwear was now covered with a steel grey suit, a black shirt and a maroon and light grey stripped tie. His customary boots were upon his feet. “You know,” he began, “I’ve always said there’s nothing better than seeing a woman familiarize herself with my kitchen.” It was now her turn for her perfectly arched eyebrows to rise.

Alex signalled for him to take a seat, putting the omelette filled plate down in front of him before gently swatting his arm for his remark. “It would help if you had food in your cupboards to be able to do something with.”

Gene looked at the meal in front of him, “I’m surprised you managed to make this, what is it, by the way?”

“It’s an omelette! Have you never had one before?”

“No, Bolly, can’t say I have, I’m from the north we don’t eat poncy stuff up there!”

“Well, this poncy food is extremely good for you and will keep you going until dinnertime without the need for a dozen or so biscuits. Just try it, if you don’t like it you can easily get yourself an egg sandwich on your way to work.”

Gene eyed the suspicious looking meal, not quite knowing what to make of it. He watched Alex as she sliced a bit off hers with her knife and fork and put the fluffy piece in her mouth. Cautiously he did the same beginning to chew his piece. The flavours that escaped into his mouth he was unsure of but Alex had definitely worked her magic and come up with a dish that he would try again. He gulped up another piece and then another. “What’s in it?” He asked, in between mouthfuls.

“Egg, tomato, bit of onion, cheese, some seasoning,” he gazed at her quizzically, “seasoning is salt and pepper,” she watched him nod his understanding. “Do you approve, then?”

“Yep, this poncy nosh is good. You’ll have to show me how to make ‘em.”

“You cook?”

“You don’t think I spend every night in Luigi’s eating his foreign muck, do you? Sometimes I go down the Indian you know!” He watched her reaction trying to gauge whether or not to tease her anymore, he decided not to. “When the wife left me I had to fend for meself. Quite the chef, I’ll have you know!”

“Oh yeah, what’s your speciality?”

“Shepherd’s Pie.”

“Oh, god I haven’t had that in years, my mouth is just salivating from the thought of it.”

Before he knew what he was saying, Gene retorted, “if I’d ‘ave thought me mother’s recipe would’ve got you to drop yer knickers, then I’d ‘ave made you one as soon as you’d set foot in my office.” He watched as the colour visibly drained from her face, she got up clearing the plates away, attempting to keep her composure as she washed up. Gene stood and crossed the short distance between them, he could see from the downcast eyes and the tiny speckles of water on her lashes that he’d clearly upset her. He held out his left hand to put on her shoulder but decided against the action, she’d needed a friend not some great lummox that couldn’t keep his head out of the sewer. Mind you, he’d found it odd that she hadn’t answered back as was usual for her. “Alex?” His voice was hoarse from his emotional state. “Alex?” He tried again, “I’m sorry, I seem to always be putting my great big flat feet in my equally big Manc gob where you’re concerned. Last night you needed a friend, and I hope I was good enough for you. This morning I make the biggest tit of myself, and I want you for my friend ‘cause I’m on my own too. Apart from with the people I work with, I don’t go out much and I don’t ‘ave anyone I can talk to when I need someone. Forgive me, I only meant …”

Alex cut him off turning in the space to square up to him, “I know what you meant, maybe we crossed a line last night that we shouldn’t have crossed but I obviously needed to hold onto something real, something that would allow me to feel comfortable and safe. You were my something, my someone. And if I mistook you for something you weren’t in the past then I have to ask for your forgiveness. Apart from my daughter, you are the only real person to me in this alternate year I find myself in. That’s why I’m upset, not because of what you said, but because I can’t act upon what you said. I have to get back to my daughter, and that means no complications here, I’m sorry Gene, your friend I can be, your lover I can’t.”

Gene was sure his face was a picture, for at that moment he had no idea whether it would have been best for him to laugh or cry. He gently smiled at her before walking into the hallway and putting on his long black coat. “Think it’s time I got off to work, I’ll drop you back at yours on the way and maybe you can join me for a drink later on, we can chat a bit more, what do you think? Before she knew where she was, she had on her boots and her coat and Gene had ushered her out of his flat as he spoke, continuing with their conversation until they were sitting in the red Audi.

“Sounds good, I’m getting so bored though!”

“Already?”

“Already! I’m ready to come back to work, Gene.”

“It’s been two days, and you need to grieve.”

“I did my grieving 26 years ago. I don’t need to do anymore. I just need to be involved.”

“Have today, come back tomorrow.”

“Ok, tomorrow. So I’ll meet you at about 7.00 later on then?”

“Ok, right, better fire up the Quattro,” turning the key he started up the car and sped off through the streets of London, dropping off Alex at her flat on the way.

“Later then?” Alex said as she got out of the car and looked across to its driver. Gene merely nodded. She closed the door and just as quickly as they had arrived he had gone on his way.

She took her time walking up the steps to her front door, there was no rush today. She had all day to make herself beautiful for Gene. She did a double take, she’d meant what she’d said earlier on, and she didn’t need complications in her life. Her mind whirled. She didn’t need Gene? Who was she kidding, of course she needed Gene, they were like chalk and cheese, day and night, a fish and a bird; each needed the other to survive. She needed to get back to her daughter but that meant letting go of the one person who truly understood her even if it was in 1981. Was she willing to give that up so as to get back to her 2007 life? No, she mustn’t fall in love with him that was the key, be friendly with him, banter with him, and argue with him even, but never cross that line again. Once she’d done that there would be no turning back and she would be torn between the devil and the deep blue sea. She knew that she would be able to move between the two worlds as Sam had done before her, however she didn’t know if either Gene would be able or want to go to 2007, or Molly vice versa.

She fished in her pocket for her keys as she carried on climbing the steps. As she got to the door she saw it was open, stepping over the threshold she heard the uninterrupted chorus of “I’m happy, hope you’re happy too!” as the record on the player kept jumping. Her heart stopped in her mouth as she made her way into the further recesses of the living room; if she could only get to the phone she knew she might have a chance. She saw it lying on the floor where she had left it that morning before going off to see Gene.

She rushed across the space picking up the receiver in her right hand, the cradle in her left. She checked for a dialling tone, there was one, quickly she punched the numbers into the phone but before it even had chance to connect and ring the phone went silent as a quiet hush surrounded her senses. “What the bloody hell is going on?” She shouted into the void of her flat not expecting a response. It surprised her when the end of the phone cable was chucked over to her, landing just in front of her kneeling form. She picked it up and followed the direction it had come from with her eyes.

A figure stood in the darkened recess, a figure so dark and gloomy itself she could hardly make it out from where she was. Like a predator it moved from its spot slowly toward her, she was suddenly struck with fear and realisation as she saw the dark glasses perched on that bony nose she had only seen a matter of days ago. It was Arthur Layton.

“What are you doing here?” She demanded.

Taking the familiar gun from his inside pocket he aimed the weapon at her head, like he had done the day his bullet had sent her back to 1981. “I’m finishing the job I started and was paid for. Get up Alex; we’re going on a river boat trip!”
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Repetitions of the Future