OOM: Let's fire up the Quattro

[the_gene_genie]

He'd kept a cab waiting, all the better to make a quick exit. He supposes it doesn't really make a difference now though, except the fact that he'd rather they come for him when he's already back in his office and not out here on the street like a scumbag.

She looks knackered. He doesn't say anything but does keep his eyes on her from behind his shades. Seeing her again, alive and awake - he can't articulate to himself how relieved he is. How right this feels, having her back.

But it doesn't stop it being awkward too. Impossible for it not to be, really. He did shoot her.

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[lady_bols]

She's wobbly as a foal on ice, her legs still weak from three months of disuse. She leans on him heavily, her eyes blinking at the world around her, trying to focus. He helps her into the cab and she doesn't quite want to let go of his hand just yet.

"What day is it?"

[the_gene_genie]

'Tuesday.'

The car pulls off and he takes his glasses off. After examining her face a moment more, he leans forward to say to the cabbie;

'Stop at the offy 'round the corner, yeah mate?'

[lady_bols]

"No, not what day -- what day? Did I miss Christmas?"

She grips his arm tighter when he shifts, her eyes closing to cover the wince. Everything still aches. Even her hair aches.

[the_gene_genie]

'...yeah, you did. It's February. Tenth of February.'

Three long bloody months.

The cab pulls up outside an off licence and he extricates himself carefully, disappearing inside and re-emerging two minutes later with a bottle. When they're moving again, he unscrews the cap and holds it out to her.

'Get some of that in ya. Look like you need it.'

[lady_bols]

It says a lot about the two of them that she doesn't even question, she just takes the bottle and sighs, waiting for the cab to hit a smooth patch before knocking a drink back.

When she's done, she hands it back to him, and takes his arm again. She's not about to be knocked around in the back of a cab while she's in this state. He can just deal with it.

"I left -- there's a package. For your mum. In the flat. I'll have to post it."

[the_gene_genie]

'Right, yeah. I'll tell her.'


He will never understand how the female mind works.


'She's been phonin' the hospital every week t'see how you were doin'. She'll be pleased.'

[lady_bols]

"It's just some chocolates. Nothing fancy."

Her eyes drift closed and she rests her head back on the seat.

"Be pleased to know you've sprung me, you mean?"

[the_gene_genie]

'Well, I was thinkin' more along the lines of 'pleased you're not dead' but if you want t'think of it that way, go ahead.'

If his mother knew he'd forced her out of bed seconds after waking up from a three-month coma, she'd give him a slap. Especially if she heard that he gave her a slap.

Still, desperate times.

[lady_bols]

"I know what you meant, Gene."

She squeezes his arm, her face rippling with emotion for a moment before her jaw clenches.

(She can still see the face of that young copper, his uniform spotless, a lock of hair curled across his brow, and half his face blown away, the red, ragged edge of the wound vivid in her memory.)

[the_gene_genie]

'You alright?'

The car's pulling up outside the garage and he fumbles for cash, studiously avoiding looking at her face.

[lady_bols]

No, no she's not. She's just been torn away from the world with her little girl all over again. But she's here, with him. (Where she belongs.) And there's already a twist of guilt in her gut over that truth.

"Just tired is all. Where are we?"

[the_gene_genie]

He bites back the remark that would usually come. Even he can see that pointing out she's had enough sleep would be insensitive.

'Got t'get the car before I do anythin' else.'

It's not the same bloke in the garage this time. This one hardly gives Gene a second look and just hands over the keys on receipt of his ticket.

Alex does look like hell, though. There's a space in front of the secure garage and something for her to lean on. He pauses there, taking the bottle back.

A few more minutes won't hurt.

[lady_bols]

She looks across at him in the dim light, feeling a bit lost now that she's not holding onto him anymore.

So much has happened since she last saw him.

So much happened at the end. (Before she left? Returned? None of it makes sense anymore.)

Right now, she just wants to drink in the sight of him. (Where she belongs.) Just for a few more minutes before she has to give him back to the world.

[the_gene_genie]

He lets her look without comment, only shifting a little bit under her gaze. Eventually, he has to say something. It's been bugging him the whole time he was away, thinking about this moment.



'...look Bols, abou' that row.

We can forget it, can' we?'

[lady_bols]

Her brow knits, the emotions of that day returning through the haze of her memory. She'd been so livid with him, and he with her.

And in a heartbeat, he'd wiped that all away. None of it mattered anymore.

Her voice is low, barely more than a whisper.

"I didn't lie to you."

It's important to her that he knows that.

[the_gene_genie]

He just looks down on where her where she leans, the bottle suddenly heavy in his hand.

What can he say? That he still thinks it's bollocks but it's OK really, because she's just mental enough to believe it. As long as he accepts her private insanity, then they can function perfectly well.

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out her voice recorder. It's been a while since he listened to that last tape and he refuses to dwell on why a lot of it is hazy to him - must be the drinking, he's being doing a lot of that. But he remembers some of it.


'You said a bloke was after you. Why didn' you tell me?'

[lady_bols]

Her gaze shifts to the middle of his chest, and suddenly he's too far away. He's been shouting at her in her dreams for months, angry and scared and lost, and now all she can think about is holding him close.

"I can handle myself. I am a police officer, you know." It's a half-hearted tease.

She keeps tight hold of the lip of the table instead. He hasn't forgiven her. She wonders if he ever will.

"I wanted to tell you, but -- the time was never right."

First Supermac. Then Chris. Then that blonde woman he was so intent on protecting. Tiny's sister. What was her name?

"What happened with Jeanette?"

[the_gene_genie]

He looks down at the ground. He doesn't know if she's asking what happened to her or what happened with her. Knowing Drake, the former seems more likely.

'Couldn't find her. No one would speak t'me. And then I 'ad to come away so I didn't have a chance of gettin' her to say what happened. I 'spect she'll turn up dead somewhere, to be honest.'

He doesn't look like he'd be too upset if that happened.

[lady_bols]

She doesn't have any claim on him as far as that goes. The simple fact resonates in her body, setting up an ache in her head and in her chest. They were unbreakable. What happened?

Her hand drifts out to touch his lapels, but she feels too weak, too shattered to pull him close. He is her strength. She needs to find her way back to him, or she's lost. She knows that know, and the how and the why of it doesn't matter.

"I thought I'd lost you."

[the_gene_genie]

The last time she said that to him, he hadn't known what to say. He has a bit more of an idea this time around, mainly because he's spent the last three months thinking the same thing.

'Thought you'd buggered off an' left us.'

He has to use us. A me would be far too close to the bone.

'An' it hasn't exactly been a barrel of laughs, neither. So don' do it again.'

Got that, Alex?

[lady_bols]

Her lips twitch. Almost a smile.

"I'll try," she says.

There's a long moment as the silence of the garage surrounds them. Ray's words from the bank of televisions in the shop come back to her. He's been on the run, cut off from his team. From his family. And at Christmas, too.

"Where did you go?"

[the_gene_genie]

'Abroad. The Isle of Wight, that was shit. So I tried the Costa Brava. D'you know, it was the best full English I've ever 'ad.'

The bottle's back in his hand. He never wants to think of these last months again.

'Then I thought, why am I running? Gene Hunt doesn' run.'

She's looking up at his face and he can't not be honest.

'I'm in a mess, Bols.'

[lady_bols]

"So am I."

He can see that much.

[the_gene_genie]

'Fightin' for my future.'

It doesn't feel like an overstatement. Things feel like they've changed. He's hoping it's just because the threat of D&C is looming but there's the nagging doubt that it might be more than that.

[lady_bols]

"Me too."

It feels like they've come to the ends of the earth.

[the_gene_genie]

She looks like she's been dragged to the ends of the earth. He's never seen her look so knackered. Maybe he shouldn't have...well. Maybe she's not alright.

'Get up. C'mere.'

He puts the whiskey down and holds out his hand to help her up, kneeling down and pulling up her T-shirt to see the scar.

He did that. He didn't mean to, but he did it. And for the briefest of seconds, he really really wants to kiss it better. That would obviously be a bad idea so he just straightens, drops her shirt and rubs over it a little, as if he could make it vanish.

'I'm sorry. I could've hit me target bu' you fell all wrong.'

[lady_bols]

He kneels in front of her and just a flash of sunlight catches his hair. It's gone golden, she thinks. From his time in Spain?

He lifts up her shirt, and her breath catches. There's a flash of pain, not in her side, but behind her eyes. She hears the gunshot (which? his? Or Layton's?) and the world dissolves into that same blinding white light for a moment. She thinks she sees the clock, ticking over. 9:06

And then he's standing again, touching her side, bashful, apologising. Sort of.

She chuffs a laugh, smiling up at him, appreciating the attempt.

"Sometimes in life, you can't help which way you fall."

The words twist in her mouth, and she feels the real truth behind them.

[the_gene_genie]

He looks at her, square on. And feels so much better, just because she's here, where she belongs. Things might not be perfect and the past can't be changed but they've got what they've got and it's better than nothing.

'You do know, when I walk through those doors they're gonna come for me.'

And he wasn't going to walk through them without her.

[lady_bols]

"Yeah."

She holds his gaze for just another moment. Maybe that's what she's here for. Maybe this world is giving her a chance to save him. With that thought in mind, she feels her strength beginning to return.

"Well there's only one thing for it."

She picks up the bottle.

"Let's fire up the Quattro."