Fic: Dancing with the Devil
Title: Dancing with the Devil
Characters: Gene/Alex, Chris/Shaz, Ray, Luigi.
W/C: Approx 1300
Rating: G (I know, shock!)
Summary: It's a summer night, and Gene surprises Alex and everyone else in Luigi's
Disclaimer: Anything you recognize isn't mine.
A/N: This is inspired in a very leftfield way by an oblique spoiler on Ian Wylie's blog about series 2, episode 4 (eta- sorry, that should read episode 3!). You won't be spoiled by reading it, unless my extremely uneducated guess turns out to be right, which I doubt. But for those engaged in extreme spoiler-avoidance, you might possibly want to leave it for now. But it was such an nice image, I couldn't not write it. The song is Japan - I Second That Emotion, for those that like to play along.
~*~
It was a warm night, and most of the team had long departed to enjoy the illusion of balmy Italy in Luigi’s. Alex walked slowly back from the cells, where the odious Harris now languished. The case was as strong as necessary, but she couldn’t help a small smile at the thought of the moneyed barrister languishing in a sweaty cell all night as an extra bonus. She was still smiling when she pushed open the door to the office.
The Guv was leaning back behind his desk, a glass of whisky in one hand, and a beige document folder open in the other hand. He looked up at her, his eyes narrowing in that appreciative stare that he seemed to reserve for her. She used to think it was contempt, but things had changed. He sniffed and took a glug of whisky.
“Did you make our guest comfy, Bols?” he said.
She slipped her fingers into the waist pockets of her jeans.
“I think he’s going to have a delightful night,” she smiled, leaning on the doorframe.
He curled up one side of his mouth and nodded slightly, flipping the document folder closed and tossing it on his desk.
“Good,” he said, pushing up from the chair, the whisky glass still clasped in his fingers as he walked over to her. “What about you? What kind of night are you planning?”
She cocked her head to one side, shrugging her shoulders a little. He stood in front of her, pouting his mouth thoughtfully, his steely eyes like lasers.
“Right then, lady,” he said finally, throwing the last of the whisky down his throat. “Get your coat.”
~*~
The atmosphere in Luigi’s was a shade below raucous. A drinking game was well under way over at the tables, and Luigi rolled his eyes at Alex and Gene as they walked in.
“I worry, signor Hunt, that your men have no clue when to stop,” he told them, rubbing an empty wine glass.
“No need for that, Luigi, they’ve got me. They stop before I need to bang their ‘eads together like conkers,” Gene said, pushing his hands on the bar. “Now, my usual and whatever the lady wants.”
“White wine, please,” Alex nodded, looking over at the table where Chris and Shaz were sitting, thick as thieves. They had eyes only for each other. Despite no clear memory that sort of romantic intimacy ever happening to her, Alex wistfully remembered how it felt.
“Now don’t get all mopey on me, Alex. Today was a good day,” Gene said, looking at her and misreading her expression.
She smiled at him.
“A good day,” she agreed, taking her drink from the bar were Luigi had set it.
“To many more,” he replied, holding up his tumbler.
They both drank to that, their eyes locked over the top of their glasses. After a long moment, Gene looked away, letting out a throat-burned sigh.
“Aah, that stuff is better than TCP, Luigi,” he said.
The bartender took no notice, busy with the sound system, and a few seconds later the mellow guitar strains drew a collective jeer from the rowdy detectives at the tables.
This soon subsided a little when Chris got up and held out his hand to Shaz. She looked stunned for a short moment, and then smiled and took hold of it, letting him pull her up and over to the clearer space near the bar. He drew her into his arms, and they stood swaying rhythmically in a very minimalist slow dance.
“Blimey, it gets worse!” Ray said, and the others with him laughed and slapped each other’s shoulders as though he’d made the best joke of the night.
Alex didn’t notice her head tipping to one side as she watched the young couple until she heard Gene.
“Love’s young dream, eh? It’ll pass,” he said, standing with his hands in his pockets.
“Oh, you cynic,” Alex teased. “I think it’s adorable. I haven’t slow danced like that for… oh, ages.”
He looked at the bar, and pulled one hand out of his pocket to rub his jaw briefly. She set her glass down.
“Romance, Gene. You might have heard about it,” she said.
He drew his eyes back to hers and, quite suddenly, he tugged her from the stool, and away from the bar. She felt her eyes widen in shock as he slipped one hand round her waist, pulling her flush against him, and holding her other hand up to his chest. Their faces were now centimetres apart, and Alex felt a blush rise on her face, especially as she could hear the renewed cheers from the drunken crowd.
“I think I’m familiar with the term,” he said, as they began to slowly step in time to the music.
It took her a good ten seconds to recover herself, her heart hammering wildly in her chest. Gene didn’t take his eyes away from hers. Once she felt a little more in control, she realized she could feel his heartbeat, too, and it was racing. His hand slipped from her waist to the small of her back as she looked down momentarily, unable to hold his eyes like that, not so close.
“I do believe you’re blushing, Bols,” he said, and she recognized the warm tone of accomplishment in his voice. It gave her just enough rope to pull herself back to a little dignity.
“It’s quite hot tonight, did you notice?” she replied, lifting her head and meeting his eyes again.
“Well, if you will stand so close to me,” he said, holding her just as tightly against him as before.
“I should think it’s just high pressure,” she told him, running her free hand up to his shoulder and squeezing.
He pursed his lips for a second as his eyebrows lifted, amused.
“I thought you enjoyed pressure,” he returned.
“When I’m in control, yes,” she said, and his lips quirked in a small smile.
“What happens when someone else wants to be in control?” he asked, shifting his weight and spinning around a little, keeping her close.
She couldn’t hold back a flirty smile.
“I practise the art of give and take, Gene,” she said, arching an eyebrow.
He smiled genuinely, his turn to look down for a second. When he looked up again, his eyes looked softer, and his hand in hers had a lighter touch, his thumb rubbing her palm. They stood dancing slowly together in companionable silence, until there was another loud cheer and they looked round to see Chris and Shaz sharing a kiss.
The song ended, and Gene turned his head back to Alex. They didn’t pull apart for a long moment, and Alex felt herself involuntarily moisten her lips. She saw Gene’s eyes dip down to her mouth and back up to her eyes again, and during a long, lingering minute, she realized that not only was she expecting Gene to kiss her, she wanted him to.
He didn’t, though, pressing his lips together thoughtfully, and gently disentangling from her, without moving too far away. He still kept a gentle hold of her left hand, looking at her like he was trying to form exactly the right sentence.
“’Night Guv,” said Chris, suddenly standing next to them with Shaz.
Alex felt the light pressure on her hand disappear as Gene let go of it and slipped his hand back into his pocket.
“Right, Christopher, good night,” he replied, running his other hand through his hair and moving to the bar.
“’Night ma’am,” Shaz smiled quietly, giving Alex a knowing look, almost apologetic, before she and Chris left.
Alex returned to the bar, and took a steadying drink. Gene had also knocked back his drink, and discarded the empty glass abruptly. Alex tried to sneak a sideways glance at him, her discreet attempt failing as he turned to face her, leaning his elbow on the bar.
“Not exactly Fred and Ginger, but you’ve still got your toes,” he announced as she lowered her glass, holding her eyes for a brief second. “Your round, Bolly.”
Characters: Gene/Alex, Chris/Shaz, Ray, Luigi.
W/C: Approx 1300
Rating: G (I know, shock!)
Summary: It's a summer night, and Gene surprises Alex and everyone else in Luigi's
Disclaimer: Anything you recognize isn't mine.
A/N: This is inspired in a very leftfield way by an oblique spoiler on Ian Wylie's blog about series 2, episode 4 (eta- sorry, that should read episode 3!). You won't be spoiled by reading it, unless my extremely uneducated guess turns out to be right, which I doubt. But for those engaged in extreme spoiler-avoidance, you might possibly want to leave it for now. But it was such an nice image, I couldn't not write it. The song is Japan - I Second That Emotion, for those that like to play along.
~*~
It was a warm night, and most of the team had long departed to enjoy the illusion of balmy Italy in Luigi’s. Alex walked slowly back from the cells, where the odious Harris now languished. The case was as strong as necessary, but she couldn’t help a small smile at the thought of the moneyed barrister languishing in a sweaty cell all night as an extra bonus. She was still smiling when she pushed open the door to the office.
The Guv was leaning back behind his desk, a glass of whisky in one hand, and a beige document folder open in the other hand. He looked up at her, his eyes narrowing in that appreciative stare that he seemed to reserve for her. She used to think it was contempt, but things had changed. He sniffed and took a glug of whisky.
“Did you make our guest comfy, Bols?” he said.
She slipped her fingers into the waist pockets of her jeans.
“I think he’s going to have a delightful night,” she smiled, leaning on the doorframe.
He curled up one side of his mouth and nodded slightly, flipping the document folder closed and tossing it on his desk.
“Good,” he said, pushing up from the chair, the whisky glass still clasped in his fingers as he walked over to her. “What about you? What kind of night are you planning?”
She cocked her head to one side, shrugging her shoulders a little. He stood in front of her, pouting his mouth thoughtfully, his steely eyes like lasers.
“Right then, lady,” he said finally, throwing the last of the whisky down his throat. “Get your coat.”
~*~
The atmosphere in Luigi’s was a shade below raucous. A drinking game was well under way over at the tables, and Luigi rolled his eyes at Alex and Gene as they walked in.
“I worry, signor Hunt, that your men have no clue when to stop,” he told them, rubbing an empty wine glass.
“No need for that, Luigi, they’ve got me. They stop before I need to bang their ‘eads together like conkers,” Gene said, pushing his hands on the bar. “Now, my usual and whatever the lady wants.”
“White wine, please,” Alex nodded, looking over at the table where Chris and Shaz were sitting, thick as thieves. They had eyes only for each other. Despite no clear memory that sort of romantic intimacy ever happening to her, Alex wistfully remembered how it felt.
“Now don’t get all mopey on me, Alex. Today was a good day,” Gene said, looking at her and misreading her expression.
She smiled at him.
“A good day,” she agreed, taking her drink from the bar were Luigi had set it.
“To many more,” he replied, holding up his tumbler.
They both drank to that, their eyes locked over the top of their glasses. After a long moment, Gene looked away, letting out a throat-burned sigh.
“Aah, that stuff is better than TCP, Luigi,” he said.
The bartender took no notice, busy with the sound system, and a few seconds later the mellow guitar strains drew a collective jeer from the rowdy detectives at the tables.
This soon subsided a little when Chris got up and held out his hand to Shaz. She looked stunned for a short moment, and then smiled and took hold of it, letting him pull her up and over to the clearer space near the bar. He drew her into his arms, and they stood swaying rhythmically in a very minimalist slow dance.
“Blimey, it gets worse!” Ray said, and the others with him laughed and slapped each other’s shoulders as though he’d made the best joke of the night.
Alex didn’t notice her head tipping to one side as she watched the young couple until she heard Gene.
“Love’s young dream, eh? It’ll pass,” he said, standing with his hands in his pockets.
“Oh, you cynic,” Alex teased. “I think it’s adorable. I haven’t slow danced like that for… oh, ages.”
He looked at the bar, and pulled one hand out of his pocket to rub his jaw briefly. She set her glass down.
“Romance, Gene. You might have heard about it,” she said.
He drew his eyes back to hers and, quite suddenly, he tugged her from the stool, and away from the bar. She felt her eyes widen in shock as he slipped one hand round her waist, pulling her flush against him, and holding her other hand up to his chest. Their faces were now centimetres apart, and Alex felt a blush rise on her face, especially as she could hear the renewed cheers from the drunken crowd.
“I think I’m familiar with the term,” he said, as they began to slowly step in time to the music.
It took her a good ten seconds to recover herself, her heart hammering wildly in her chest. Gene didn’t take his eyes away from hers. Once she felt a little more in control, she realized she could feel his heartbeat, too, and it was racing. His hand slipped from her waist to the small of her back as she looked down momentarily, unable to hold his eyes like that, not so close.
“I do believe you’re blushing, Bols,” he said, and she recognized the warm tone of accomplishment in his voice. It gave her just enough rope to pull herself back to a little dignity.
“It’s quite hot tonight, did you notice?” she replied, lifting her head and meeting his eyes again.
“Well, if you will stand so close to me,” he said, holding her just as tightly against him as before.
“I should think it’s just high pressure,” she told him, running her free hand up to his shoulder and squeezing.
He pursed his lips for a second as his eyebrows lifted, amused.
“I thought you enjoyed pressure,” he returned.
“When I’m in control, yes,” she said, and his lips quirked in a small smile.
“What happens when someone else wants to be in control?” he asked, shifting his weight and spinning around a little, keeping her close.
She couldn’t hold back a flirty smile.
“I practise the art of give and take, Gene,” she said, arching an eyebrow.
He smiled genuinely, his turn to look down for a second. When he looked up again, his eyes looked softer, and his hand in hers had a lighter touch, his thumb rubbing her palm. They stood dancing slowly together in companionable silence, until there was another loud cheer and they looked round to see Chris and Shaz sharing a kiss.
The song ended, and Gene turned his head back to Alex. They didn’t pull apart for a long moment, and Alex felt herself involuntarily moisten her lips. She saw Gene’s eyes dip down to her mouth and back up to her eyes again, and during a long, lingering minute, she realized that not only was she expecting Gene to kiss her, she wanted him to.
He didn’t, though, pressing his lips together thoughtfully, and gently disentangling from her, without moving too far away. He still kept a gentle hold of her left hand, looking at her like he was trying to form exactly the right sentence.
“’Night Guv,” said Chris, suddenly standing next to them with Shaz.
Alex felt the light pressure on her hand disappear as Gene let go of it and slipped his hand back into his pocket.
“Right, Christopher, good night,” he replied, running his other hand through his hair and moving to the bar.
“’Night ma’am,” Shaz smiled quietly, giving Alex a knowing look, almost apologetic, before she and Chris left.
Alex returned to the bar, and took a steadying drink. Gene had also knocked back his drink, and discarded the empty glass abruptly. Alex tried to sneak a sideways glance at him, her discreet attempt failing as he turned to face her, leaning his elbow on the bar.
“Not exactly Fred and Ginger, but you’ve still got your toes,” he announced as she lowered her glass, holding her eyes for a brief second. “Your round, Bolly.”