Repetitions of the Future | By : gallygaskins Category: 1 through F > Ashes to Ashes Views: 1463 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Ashes to Ashes and I do not earn any money from this fanfiction. |
Chapter 21 – A trip to Manchester! March was soon April, spring became summer and CID ambled along much as it always had. Chris and Shaz were often to be found canoodling in the filing and evidence room, Ray caught up on his sleep as and when he could, Gene and Alex squabbled as much as ever but always made up when they got home, and the nightly piss ups at Luigi’s continued even though they seemed to finish much earlier than they ever had done before. One thing that had changed had been Gene’s unending desire to spend most of his weekends with Alex, apart from watching out for his beloved City’s score line on ‘Grandstand’, the highlights of a match on ‘Match of the Day’ or if they played in London, when an ‘unknown’ source would send him down a ticket. At least she could look forward to the off season, 3 months where she would have his undivided attention apart from the odd phone call to a mate to find out which players had been transferred, if they were going to play a friendly or if there was any new investment into the club. But even then she found Sunday’s to be the best day of the week, waking up in his strong but gentle arms, having breakfast in bed, reading the papers together and generally chilling out, they’d take walks in the park, sit out in the garden she’d learnt to tend if the weather was good, sometimes they’d even get out of the city altogether and find a nice pub to have some dinner before coming home to fill their early evening with a dose of passion, finally drifting off into a blissful sleep safely wrapped around one another. She’d even managed to persuade him to take time off work. How, she wasn’t quite sure but once she’d mentioned it he seemed more than willing to let Ray look after the team for a couple of days. They’d spent a long weekend in Bath, wandering around the beautiful Georgian city built around a roman bath trying to imagine what life would have been like when the likes of Charles Dickens and Jane Austen resided there. Alex had been surprised by Gene’s knowledge of the place and its famous residents, finally explaining that he’d learnt about Bath at school in his dim and distant past, history having been one of his favourite subjects. “Why have you never told me that?” She’d questioned. “You never asked!” He countered, in the calm, bantering way he had with only her, “I don’t like t’ think ‘bout me childhood much.” He saw Alex give him one of her quizzical looks. They were sat on a bench overlooking the Pulteney Bridge and weir, arm in arm. “Nothin’ were ever good enough for ‘im, me dad! Didn’t matter what it were, school, service, friends even. Still ended up getting’ drunk and lashin’ out at us all, including me mam!” His pensive face looked down at Alex’s hand as it rested on his arm, covering it he began stroking her soft skin, eventually tracing down her fingers and lacing his through them. “I were glad when I were called up, able to get out of ‘ome for good, not that I wanted t’ leave me mam and me brother alone with that bastard. Thankfully it weren’t for too long; he died a couple months after I left. Didn’t go t’ ‘is funeral, seemed there weren’t much point. “Me brother could ne’er live with the pain, got addicted t’ drugs, I tried t’ get ‘im back on track. ‘E scarpered, by the time I found ‘im ‘e were dead.” Alex moved closer to him, placing her arms around him attempting to help rid him of his own pain. “Guess that’s why I drank, really, everythin’ in me life seemed to go the same way too, the wife, me kid, the only thin’ I had were me job and Sam’s friendship when he arrived!” He looked to face her, finding serenity in her cool hazel eyes, a smile playing on her lips. “Not that I need to now, eh? Drink that is. Look what I got instead.” He said, his eyebrows motioning upward whilst searching her face and smiling down to her. “I’m sleeping with the hottest, smartest, sweetest, although still very argumentative DI in the Met, and she loves me; craggy, saggy, ole me wit’ all me problems!” “You can never be described as craggy or saggy, Gene! Considering that you’ve cut down on the whisky and the love making is extremely good exercise, have you seen your beer belly recently?” She lent up to his ear and purred, whispering, “you obviously don’t realise how bloody gorgeous and sexy you actually are!” “You don’t have to humour me, DI Drake,” he teased. “I’m not! Just telling it like it is! I never imagined that you would be the one I fell for, but I did! At first I hated you and everything about you, your ways, your sexist remarks, the way you taunted me for an argument and the sexual innuendo you continually threw my way …” “Sorry!”
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