Fanfic: Ashes to Ashes
Title: No Borderlines.
Warning: None.
Word count: ~900
Disclaimer: Don't own the rights to the show, the characters.
The station looks the way it looks every evening: 6 desks littered with folders, documents, evidence envelopes and half full mugs of tea. Typewriters with sheets of paper and partial sentences are waiting for diligent fingers to come along to finish reports, statements and requisitions. Ashtrays filled with cigarette butts and chewing gum, waste paper bins brimming with the usual detritus of investigations and one or two open drawers sit here waiting for hands to close them.
D.C.I. Gene Hunt's office sits in the dark.
If walls could talk, these would have some top stories to spill. Luckily, walls can't talk.
Noises, though, can tell stories. These noises tell the story of two people finding themselves together.
The tape recorder on D.I. Drake's desk is still playing the mixtape Chris made Shaz last year. It's the third time. This time when the tape runs out, they don't notice. To them it is as if the music continues to play around them as they move in a tight embrace in the darkness of D.C.I. Gene Hunt's office.
The scent of the wine they shared earlier at Luigi's fills the air between them as they move to their silent soundtrack. It is late and they both know they would be far better off going home, but the music is beautiful and they know that home is not an option. Not now.
Here in Gene Hunt's office they are together. Completely together, on their own terms for once. They share an unspoken understanding that this evening is their evening. Tonight they're Gene and Alex and they're a man and a woman. Dancing to a beautiful song. Together on an island of romance and opportunity. Gone are the cumbersome titles and masks that make up their daily lives. Gone are the snarky comments and veiled innuendo. Instead they have found the words to speak the truth, the courage to show the need and together they have uncovered a way to share this truth without deceit or apprehension.
Alex is tall in his arms, but she is fragile and pliant tonight. She thinks it is because of the wine and the starry night walk from Luigi's to the police station, but it is not. Her body yields to his embrace because she wants it to and because she has wanted it to since he carried her in his arms that first day 3 years ago. She wonders what he is thinking as they slowly shift on the floor. As they float in their private world in his office.
Gene's eyes are half open and he is watching her, looking for clues that she has changed her mind, that she is done, that she is appalled, ready for anything but what he finds is her smiling eyes turned up to meet his. His lips part to say something, but all he can manage is a soft sigh and a choking feeling in his chest as she lifts her head from his shoulder and plants a small kiss low on his cheek. He turns his head slightly to brush her lips with his before she draws back, but he is too late.
She immediately lowers her eye lids as if she's embarrassed that she did that to her superior officer and he can feel her body tense up for an instant before she finds her music again and he wonders if he imagined it all. He wonders if he's imagining this whole evening and if he will lose it if he opens his eyes.
His arms glide slowly from their place on her shoulders to rest on the dip in her back while her arms find their way to the back of Gene's neck and Alex allows her fingers to stretch up into the soft hair at the nape of his neck. She feels him shiver at the intimate touch and her breath catches in her throat as she realizes what is happening.
She feels his chest rise and fall as his breath quickens under her touch and she knows this is right. She knows there is no turning back now and she knows that whatever happens tomorrow or ten years from now, the only thing that's ever going to feel real again will be this moment. This dance.
His fingers stroke her back as he attempts to raise her shirt to feel her skin against his own and he sees her eyes widen as he dips a finger under the soft edge of her skirt before letting his finges run up her spine. She presses herself closer to his chest and he feels her skin through her clothes. He knows she is burning. Knows she is there with him and knows that this will be their one chance. Their one chance to preserve the world they have made for themselves. A world that can't ever exist outside of this night, this office, this song, this breath.
"Beautiful women don't want this from me, Bolls" he says and breaks the tight embrace to make certain he is not reading her wrong and is shocked to find that she has tears in her eyes. She keeps her eyes on him as a single tear spills from her left eye and she reaches her right hand up and pulls his face closer to her own and whispers in his ear: "I want this, Gene. I want this. With you. I have wan...." she doesn't finish her thought this time, but turns away from him.
He reaches out for her, but finds only empty air.
Warning: None.
Word count: ~900
Disclaimer: Don't own the rights to the show, the characters.
The station looks the way it looks every evening: 6 desks littered with folders, documents, evidence envelopes and half full mugs of tea. Typewriters with sheets of paper and partial sentences are waiting for diligent fingers to come along to finish reports, statements and requisitions. Ashtrays filled with cigarette butts and chewing gum, waste paper bins brimming with the usual detritus of investigations and one or two open drawers sit here waiting for hands to close them.
D.C.I. Gene Hunt's office sits in the dark.
If walls could talk, these would have some top stories to spill. Luckily, walls can't talk.
Noises, though, can tell stories. These noises tell the story of two people finding themselves together.
The tape recorder on D.I. Drake's desk is still playing the mixtape Chris made Shaz last year. It's the third time. This time when the tape runs out, they don't notice. To them it is as if the music continues to play around them as they move in a tight embrace in the darkness of D.C.I. Gene Hunt's office.
The scent of the wine they shared earlier at Luigi's fills the air between them as they move to their silent soundtrack. It is late and they both know they would be far better off going home, but the music is beautiful and they know that home is not an option. Not now.
Here in Gene Hunt's office they are together. Completely together, on their own terms for once. They share an unspoken understanding that this evening is their evening. Tonight they're Gene and Alex and they're a man and a woman. Dancing to a beautiful song. Together on an island of romance and opportunity. Gone are the cumbersome titles and masks that make up their daily lives. Gone are the snarky comments and veiled innuendo. Instead they have found the words to speak the truth, the courage to show the need and together they have uncovered a way to share this truth without deceit or apprehension.
Alex is tall in his arms, but she is fragile and pliant tonight. She thinks it is because of the wine and the starry night walk from Luigi's to the police station, but it is not. Her body yields to his embrace because she wants it to and because she has wanted it to since he carried her in his arms that first day 3 years ago. She wonders what he is thinking as they slowly shift on the floor. As they float in their private world in his office.
Gene's eyes are half open and he is watching her, looking for clues that she has changed her mind, that she is done, that she is appalled, ready for anything but what he finds is her smiling eyes turned up to meet his. His lips part to say something, but all he can manage is a soft sigh and a choking feeling in his chest as she lifts her head from his shoulder and plants a small kiss low on his cheek. He turns his head slightly to brush her lips with his before she draws back, but he is too late.
She immediately lowers her eye lids as if she's embarrassed that she did that to her superior officer and he can feel her body tense up for an instant before she finds her music again and he wonders if he imagined it all. He wonders if he's imagining this whole evening and if he will lose it if he opens his eyes.
His arms glide slowly from their place on her shoulders to rest on the dip in her back while her arms find their way to the back of Gene's neck and Alex allows her fingers to stretch up into the soft hair at the nape of his neck. She feels him shiver at the intimate touch and her breath catches in her throat as she realizes what is happening.
She feels his chest rise and fall as his breath quickens under her touch and she knows this is right. She knows there is no turning back now and she knows that whatever happens tomorrow or ten years from now, the only thing that's ever going to feel real again will be this moment. This dance.
His fingers stroke her back as he attempts to raise her shirt to feel her skin against his own and he sees her eyes widen as he dips a finger under the soft edge of her skirt before letting his finges run up her spine. She presses herself closer to his chest and he feels her skin through her clothes. He knows she is burning. Knows she is there with him and knows that this will be their one chance. Their one chance to preserve the world they have made for themselves. A world that can't ever exist outside of this night, this office, this song, this breath.
"Beautiful women don't want this from me, Bolls" he says and breaks the tight embrace to make certain he is not reading her wrong and is shocked to find that she has tears in her eyes. She keeps her eyes on him as a single tear spills from her left eye and she reaches her right hand up and pulls his face closer to her own and whispers in his ear: "I want this, Gene. I want this. With you. I have wan...." she doesn't finish her thought this time, but turns away from him.
He reaches out for her, but finds only empty air.