Well hello there! I know Ashes has been off our screens for a while, but I was watching the boxset recently and realised I'd started this fic ages back which I wanted to get to and didn't - better late than never, right? Basically, the premise is that, instead of going into a coma within a coma as Alex did when Gene shot her at the end of series 2, she instead goes to Manchester 1975, because I adore the Gene/Alex pairing but there's so much about the Life on Mars world that I really enjoy as well. So I thought, why not bring the two together? I suppose it's very much a crossover, so if you like A2A and LoM to be very separate then this isn't for you. Sam is prominent, but Alex is the main character here I would say. The chapters are pretty mammoth because each is sort of an episode within itself. And...that's about all I can think to tell you. I've already written the next chapter and I know how I want this story to go and end, with the potential to go on to further stories, so if you do like, please review and let me know.

Chapter One:

Bolly.

It was the last thing she'd heard as she fell back on to the cold ground and the pain spread through her gut. All he said was Bolly and all she could think was moron. And he was a moron - for not believing her, for not trusting her, for falling for that Irish tart and for shooting without having a clear shot.

She supposed they'd call an ambulance, but as she drifted in and out of consciousness and the darkness took over, Alex couldn't help but wish it hadn't ended quite like this. With she and Gene at odds, with her dying in this world.

Opening her eyes, she wasn't sure what she was going to see. 50ml. Had she fought off the infection? She didn't know. She bloody hoped so. But to Alex's disappointment, it wasn't Molly standing over her, nor even a doctor, and she was still on cold ground.

Blinking against the light - or the Sun, there was definitely a breeze in the air -, she was instead confronted by a tramp.

"You alright, love?"

Alex swallowed, blinking again, her hand flying down to her stomach. She looked down to find nothing, the pain gone. "I've just been..." What? Shot? She closed her eyes as the déjà vu almost overwhelmed her. "God."

The tramp smiled at her, as he hovered awkwardly. He seemed friendly enough. "If you insist, but most people call me Michael."

Alex licked her lips thoughtfully, frowning at his accent. "Do you know where I am, Michael?

"In a park." Michael's smile went on. "Though why you're lying down I don't know - looks like rain."

She blinked, suddenly taking in her surroundings, - grass, trees, it certainly looked like a park - and sitting up. "Why not?" She smiled grimly, accepting the hand up he offered her. "It's not as if my day could get any worse. Do you know what park this might be?"

"Albert Park."

"Right." She looked around again, hoping to suddenly recognise something. "Albert Park in..."

"Salford."

"Salford." She repeated dumbly, before her eyes widened. " - Salford, Manchester?!"

"Did you bash your head?" Michael asked, his smile starting to wane. "Would explain why you're on the ground."

"Yes, it would explain that, wouldn't it?" Alex barked a laugh nervously, almost manically. She couldn't believe it; she didn't understand any of it. "It would explain why I'm asking for the year, too."

This time Michael barked a laugh, but he quickly frowned at the expectant expression on the batty woman in front of him. "You're not joking." She shook her head. He sniffed, puzzled. "It's 1975, March 3rd. A Monday, if you really want to know."

"1975." Alex whispered, swallowing the bile that was beginning to rise in her throat. She closed her eyes again, willing herself not to panic. 1975, Manchester. What the hell was going on? Shot again and flung somewhere else in time? "Perhaps if I get myself shot for a third time, I'll be able to go back to the swinging sixties," She joked, even as her eyes filled with tears. "- could be fun."

Michael nodded slowly; Alex pulled it together a little as she watched him attempt to follow her train of thought."Did you just say you've been shot?"

"It doesn't matter." She smiled tearfully, waving him off. "I guess I'm just wondering why I'm here."

"Aren't we all?" He shrugged, the smile suddenly back. "Maybe this is the right place for you - better than the alternative."

Alex frowned at that. Alternative? If it was between this or Molly, then the choice was simple, but maybe she wouldn't have been so lucky - luck certainly didn't seem to be her friend these days - and her death in 1982 might have been it, forever. She shuddered at the thought.

Although luck was on her side this afternoon - or morning, she couldn't really tell - as she had managed to stumble across the nicest man with no abode that she'd ever met. He didn't even smell. Although she'd had a few strange looks as Michael escorted her through town and to the bus stop, asking her politely about her life and where she needed to be.

Her mind had automatically gone to Gene - even though the stupid bastard had just shot her - because she didn't know who else to turn to. Alex couldn't think why else she'd be dumped in Manchester like this. Oh God, she prayed that she'd been dumped here. If this was all in her head as well, then she really had lost her mind. But as they walked through the streets, weaved themselves through the traffic and she had taken the time to look around her, the idea that this was a mere fantasy was losing its credence. Manchester - she'd never even been this far north. And here it was, in 1975, in technicolour and full of life. And not one building looked familiar, not one person.

Not even she, herself, was recognizable. She'd stopped horrified in front of a shop window as she caught her reflection. A long fitted leather coat with a fur collar, all in a very questionable shade of brown; a long-sleeved cream cotton jumpsuit; red Mary Jane heels with a gold watch stuck on 9:06 and gold hoops to match. And her hair - well, she supposed anything was preferable to the perm of 1981. But still, it was very Farrah Fawcett. At least, I'm still a brunette.

But eventually, before she knew what was happening, Michael was wishing her luck and putting her on a bus. She wrapped the coat around her, that northern wind chilling her to bone; she supposed this coat would fare better up here than her white jacket.

"Right, now you just make sure you get off on the third stop, alright? That'll be Stopford House."

He was putting change in her hand. A tramp was giving her money - as if her day couldn't get any weirder. She rolled over the name in her mind. "Stopford House, yes, that sounds right - doesn't it?"

"It will be."

Michael seemed so sure, and she needed someone to be. She smiled again, suddenly tearful once more at the idea of being left alone. "Sir, thank you so much." She rummaged through her pockets, praying she had some money. "Let me have a look if I have some notes-"

"No need for that, and it's Michael." He assured her, smiling confidently. "Look after yourself, love. Forget about why you're here and just trust what you know."

Alex looked up sharply at the cryptic advice, but the bus was already pulling away. And then she was all alone. Nothing new there, then.

Walking through the station's doors, her eyes drunk in the sight before her, surprised at how dimly lit everything was. It seemed a bit oppressive, really, and very man-ish. This, she supposed, this was Gene's kingdom. What he'd grown up with, what he'd ruled over with an iron fist for years. Her heart panged somewhat to think Fenchurch East was little more than a blip in the grand scheme of things. She pulled the coat around her again, still feeling cold.

"Mornin' love." Alex turned at the voice, seeing the skipper behind the desk. An older woman, seemingly friendly enough. "How can I help you?"

"I don't know if I'm in the right place." Alex found herself blurting out. "Well, I know I'm not, I thought I'd get home but I don't think I beat the infection, I think it might even be over..." She trailed off, the familiar sensation of panic rearing its ugly head.

If the policewoman was taken aback, she didn't show it, but just frowned, concerned. "You don't sound like you're from round here?" Alex shook her head, willing herself not to cry. "You wanna cuppa or somethin'?

"That'd be lovely." Alex bit her lip, thoughtfully. "Actually, I was hoping to speak to Gene-"

"Here, Sam!" The woman turned to the man who'd just walked through another set of doors. "Speak to her, would you - had curry last night and I need the loo. And I'll make you that brew, love - sugar?" But Alex was too shocked to take notice. Phyllis rolled her eyes at the lack of response - Tyler always seemed to be attracting the ladies. "Sugar, it is, then."

"Let's hope Phyllis washes her hands before she makes you that tea." Sam grinned, hoping to put the lady before him at ease. "I'm kidding - she won't bother." He tried for one last joke, but frowned as the woman continued to stare. "Would you like to sit down? I'm Detective Inspector Sam-"

"Tyler, I know."

Of course, Sam's here. How did she not think? Was that why she here? The questions started to swirl around her head as she drunk him in, in his leather jacket and flares. She swallowed, her throat dry. She'd painted such a picture in her head, before all this. Of a committed police officer who, due to a tragic incident, had been caught up in delusions so powerful that he'd felt obliged to take his own life. Sam Tyler - he'd been a sad man in her mind, who'd cried out for help but had been failed by the health system and by the police.

And here he was, smiling.

"I'm sorry, have we met?"

"No, but I've heard of you." Alex said quietly, finally tearing her gaze away from the man before her. Her heart soared to think that there would be someone in this world who would understand her perfectly, who would believe her. "From before. From when you worked in Hyde." She watched carefully, as a flicker of recognition came across Sam's face. "That's what it said, didn't it? That you were from Hyde. It's been so long now that I scarcely remember your account of it, of this."

"Account of what?"

He asked slowly, almost scared of the answer, but she barely heard him, choosing to take a chair. "Do you know, when I first arrived, I wouldn't shut up? I kept badgering on about imaginary constructs and head trauma, and even though I've stopped that - more or less - I still believed in it a little. That even though it's so real, it could be all in my head." She saw Sam's eyes widen as things began to fall into place for him, as he came to take the seat beside her, shocked into silence. "That I simply adopted your fantasies, fitting them to my own experiences. But this-!" She looked around the room, again, none of it familiar to her. "This is your world and I couldn't imagine any of this if I tried."

Sam licked his lips, finding his voice. "What did you say your name was?"

"I didn't, but it's Alex. DI Alex Drake." She frowned thoughtfully, trying to remember all she could. "You were a DCI before, weren't you?"

He pinched his nose, not really knowing where to start. "Okay, who are you?"

"I think I just answered that." She smirked briefly, sickly enjoying for a moment that someone else was just as baffled as she was.

"And where are you from?"

"The future." She grimaced, thinking about what had happened the last time she'd admitted that to someone. "2008, to be precise."

"I don't..." Sam shook his head, confused. "I made my choice, and I've been left alone. No more Test Card girl, no more voices coming out of radios, no more DCI Morgan - so, what are you here for?"

"I'm not here for you." Alex said, before realising she had no idea at all. "I don't think. I might be... in 1975 for you, but I...I was shot in the head and I originally..." Her mind began to whirl again. If this was 1975, then she'd really gone back in time, at least in this world. And so much had yet to happen. Gene's move down to London. Sam's car crash. She frowned, wondering if that was why she was here. To save Sam. All that business with Martin Summers had taught her that past events could, in fact, be changed in this world. But how much could she say? "I don't think I can even tell you."

"What? Why not?" Sam demanded.

"I don't know why I'm here." She answered, as honestly as she could, taking a deep breath. "All I know is what happened to you, happened to me, but unlike you, I don't want to stay, I can't." Alex told him desperately, her voice catching. "I've got a little girl. My little girl."

"You've been shot, in the head." She nodded, putting a hand to her mouth as she began to softly cry. Sam's heart went out to her. He wasn't quite sure how much to believe, or why she was here, but if this was all an act, then it was a bloody good one. "Shit." She nodded again in agreement. "You'll be needing something stronger than tea, then."

Alex tried to smile, but couldn't, the tears free flowing. It dawned on her that she was going to have to start from scratch, this time in a place which was nothing like home. "I've no money, no flat, I don't think." She sighed, wishing for Luigi and his veal scaloppini. "I don't know anybody here."

"You know me." Sam put an assuring hand to her shoulder, making a snap decision to trust her. She looked at him, doubtfully. "And I'll get to know you." He insisted. "You're not alone, Alex, not anymore."

"Thank you." She choked back a sob, feeling a sense of relief that she hadn't felt in a long time. She didn't have Molly, but at least there was something in this Godforsaken world who knew what she was going through and cared.

Sam smiled comfortingly, his thumb going to wipe her mascara with little success. She smiled tearfully, sure she looked a state. "Ladies' is just through there." He nodded over to a door, knowing she probably needed a moment. "Don't worry, Phyllis will be ponging out C.I.D's loos. She always does." He rolled his eyes affectionately, watching as she went.

Sam wiped a hand over his face, trying to put all the pieces together. It had been so long now, that he'd almost found himself forgetting that he'd ever had a life before all this. A part of him didn't really want the reminder, but this Alex Drake, whoever she was, was in need. Someone like me. And with a child, nonetheless; he knew that he would have been thankful to have had a guide here when he'd first arrived. He'd have to help her. God knows what she'd think of this place, of Manchester, of C.I.D, of the Guv-

"Gladys!" Sam grimaced, as he heard that familiar voice call for him. He looked up, as Gene Hunt stormed through C.I.D's doors. "Oi, you lazy git, are you deaf or somethin'?! We got a lead!" Gene clapped his hands together with satisfaction before frowning questioningly. "Why are you out here?"

"There's a ...woman, she's upset." Sam offered, not knowing Alex's place in all this yet and not really sure how much or what to say.

"Yeah, well, tell her to take a ticket and wait in line - we got scum to catch!" Gene grinned in anticipation. "Jim Davids needs taking down a peg or -"

"I better stay here, Guv." Sam tried, not wanting to leave Alex alone.

"And do plod's job?" Gene snorted at the ridiculous notion. "Ray! Chris!"

"Guv, she's...she's had a bit of a shock." He tried again, getting up from his seat.

"You'll find most folk aren't just popping by to see how we are, Tyler." The Guv rolled his eyes, pointing to Phyllis as she walked back to her desk and Ray came out to join them. "Here's Phyllis now, she good enough for you?" He said dismissively, getting impatient. "Christopher!"

"I needed a quick shite, that alright?" Phyllis scowled, putting her mug on the desk. "Tea's here for her - where she go?"

Sam sighed inwardly; he was not looking forward to making introductions. "She's just..."

"A nice bit of crumpet?" Gene asked, bemused by Sam's interest. "Would you lot hurry up?!" He barked, finally getting his wish as Christopher flew through the doors, sandwich in hand.

"Sorry, Guv," Chris apologised, mouth full, "I was just-"

"Shut up and get in the car!" The Guv demanded, holding open the front door for them to step through. He clenched his jaw, angrily, as Tyler hovered. "Sam! Now!"

But Sam's attention was no longer on him.

"Bloody Nora." The Guv turned automatically at Ray's exclamation, his eyes taking in the woman who'd come out of the toilets, coat in hand and eyes trained on him. Ray's eyes, meanwhile, raked her up and down. "You're a sight for sore eyes, sweetheart."

"Just back off, Ray." Sam warned.

"Pissing on what's yours, boss?" Ray frowned, irritated, before turning his attention back to the lady. "I wouldn't waste your breath, love, he's spoken for."

But Alex only had eyes for Gene. Sam could only watch as her look of surprise morphed into anger and she suddenly dropped her coat, launching herself and her fists at the Guv. "You stupid son of a bitch! This is your fault! If you can't aim," She shouted, a smack to his shoulder permeating each word, "don't bloody fire!"

"What-!" The Guv tried, trying to pull her arms down. "Why are you -?!" He scowled, as a fist caught his chin, liking there to be a reason before he got a smack in the chops. "Bloody women!"

"Alex!" Sam stepped forward, jerking out of his surprise. Apparently, introductions weren't needed then. "Don't! Stop!"

"And that bloody Jenette!" Alex complained, no longer shouting but giving Gene a final shove for good measure. "All the blood from your brain just rushed down your trousers, didn't it?! You..." She threw her hands in the air, searching for a word, "troglodyte!"

"Phyllis!" Gene barked, ignoring the attractive flush to the lunatic in front of him. "Come and get rid!"

"This is all your fault." Alex ignored him, determinedly. "Why couldn't you trust me? I know what I said was unbelievable, but it's you and you're supposed to believe me! You bastard!" She huffed a sigh, glancing around, annoyed at how different they all appeared. Ray without his perm. Chris without his highlights - and both of them not having a clue who she was. Her eyes went back to Gene, frustrated. "Look at you - in camel. Look at me - like I'm auditioning to be one of Charlie's Angels!"

"Hasn't come out yet." Sam interjected, apologetically.

"Raquel Welch, then - whatever!" She tried, her mind racking for someone.

"Don't flatter yourself, love."

Alex swallowed at Gene's quiet tone, a warning not to push him any further. He didn't know her. And even though she'd hurt him and he'd hurt her, she'd rather he hate her then not know her.

"Guv," Sam sighed after a moment, his eyes darting between the two of them, "she's had a hard day-"

"Haven't we all, but somehow we get on with it without an arse-on." Gene commented, his gaze still resting on her. "Nowt more to add to that little speech of yours, then?"

"Yeah, I might yell and shout - but you're..." She trailed off, looking to the floor, thinking back to everything he'd said. About her being cold, about her daughter. He knew how to hit a nerve like no one else did.

"I'm in charge." The Guv went on, determinedly, Chris still munching on his sandwich and Ray's eyes not straying from her tits. "This is my kingdom and you - you must be going before I string you up by your knicker elastic for assaulting a police officer." He looked at her, expectantly. "Bye-bye, now."

"She can't..." Sam blurted. "She's with me."

"Am I missing somethin'?" The Guv asked the others, exasperatedly. "Is she his tasty bit on the side or what?"

"Annie won't like that." Chris insisted.

"She's not-!" Sam rolled his eyes, losing patience. "She's one of us!"

"You mean..." Chris frowned, confused, "she's got a ding-dong?"

"No Chris, I mean, she's a copper!" Sam insisted, taking a leap of faith. "Transferred here - right, Alex?"

Alex looked to Sam, questioningly. That's how this was supposed to go, wasn't it? She jumped as Gene scowled again. "You are joking me!"

"Another bird in C.I.D," Ray lamented, "but we've only just got rid of Cartwright!"

"How many times," Sam sighed, "- she's on a course, bringing her up to speed with - never mind! You two should have gone on it as well if you ever want to make it to Inspector."

"Inspector..." The Guv let the word roll on the tongue; his eyes dragged back to Alex's face, things clicking into place. "Inspector Drake - that's you, isn't it?"

Ray's eyes widened in understanding. "Guv, no..."

"Temporary transfer of a Detective Inspector from Fenchurch East, London, with the potential to be permanent," He recited, giving her a good look up and down, surprised by her profession to say the least, "- if I'm pleased with you. Used to having a soft southern nancy for a Chief Inspector, are you? No idea why'd you wanna transfer up here but I do love a sucker for punishment. I love suckers, in general. " An eyebrow lifted, daring her to test him again. To give him a chance to put her in her place now that he knew she was one of them. But she didn't take the bait, her initial anger having left her. "Right, let's be having you."

Her eyes widened as Gene picked up her coat, grabbed her by the arm and dragged her through the doors of C.I.D. "Get your hands off of-"

"This 'ere," He announced loudly, throwing her coat on a desk and garnering everyone's attention. Sam followed through, praying the Guv would lay off the bullying, as did Chris and Ray, the latter very smugly, "- is Mrs. Detective Inspector Lady Woman Alex Drake. Any questions, lads?"

A murmur of No Guvs went through the room as all the boys appreciated the new addition to their department.

"I got demoted when I landed here." Sam muttered, allowing himself a moment of petulance.

"A pleasure to have you under me, Drakey." The Guv turned to Alex, a smug smile from ear to ear.

She scowled, his pathetic display of dominance somehow making her more comfortable than anything else had today. "The pleasure's all yours."

"I bloody hope so but I think you'll find the pleasure's all mine, Guv." He corrected her, leaning forward. "I'm the Guv around here."

Yes, he was. She smiled inwardly.

"What's the lead?"

The Guv frowned, not following her."What?"

"The lead on your case," She said, not missing a beat, "- I heard you before, Jim Davids?"

"Bastard." Gene sniffed, somewhat impressed that she wasn't wasting any time."My snout says he's just opened up a bar in Oldham."

"The Cave." Ray supplied, coming forward to blow smoke in Alex's face. "Opening night's tonight. Honest Bill down the Dog and Duck says the whole thing's dodgy. Beat up the old owner and torched his house, made him piss himself scared just so he'd sell up, you can only imagine where he got the money for it."

"Bastard." Sam rolled his eyes at Chris' small contribution.

"So, what?" Alex smirked doubtfully. "We're just going to storm in, all guns blazing?"

"You're not storming anywhere, Inspector." The Guv sniffed, feeling the lack of respect for him coming off her in waves. "You're gonna sit behind a typewriter and give me five hundred lines of 'I shall never again swing for the Guv if I value my life.'"

"Guv..." Sam tried, hoping they wouldn't get off on too bad a foot.

"I'm going to nick him!" The Guv pronounced. "I know he put that poor lad on the slab and now he's gonna pay."

"That's a terrible plan."

He scowled at his new Inspector and her opinion. "Are you still 'ere? Mush, woman. Typewriter's over there."

"She's right, Guv." His scowl only deepened as Tyler agreed with her. He could see it now - they were going to be as thick as thieves and he wasn't going to get a word in edgewise. "We talked about this. We can't do anything yet; we've no-"

"So help me God, if you say evidence, I will kill you."

Alex startled at that. That had been the last thing he'd really said to her. He hadn't meant it then. He didn't mean it now. She still ended up with a bullet in her, though. Gene hadn't trusted her in the end. She'd let him down, truth or no truth. Being where the Guv is, is the right place to be. That's what Ray had said when she'd first arrived, and he'd been right in a way. Their falling-out had let to all of this, and she couldn't afford for that to happen again. She trusted him; she needed him to trust her to.

"How about going undercover?" Alex suggested, trying to find her feet. "I could do it. He's never met me before and I'm guessing you've already made the acquaintance." She raised an eyebrow, only imagining how that had panned out.

Sam looked to her, imploringly. "Alex, you don't have anything to prove-"

"Nothing to prove." She assured Sam, willing him to be on her side, to back her up. "I've done it before. I'm a psychological profiler, I might be able to pick something up."

"I bet she could."

She ignored Ray's muttering and Gene's frown as she held Sam's gaze. Sam stared at her pensively, silently agreeing to give her a chance before turning to the Guv. "Well, he's not going anywhere. We need this to be watertight and we know it's not just 19 year old kids that he's bumping off, he's involved in all sorts. If he likes Alex, she might be able to get it out of him."

Gene snorted. "He'd get it out for her, more like."

Sam looked to her again, but Alex was determined as ever. He understood it. Proving what a good cooper you are - it seemed to bring you closer to getting home and she had a daughter who needed her. "She's trained to do this, Guv."

"Funny, haven't seen her tart card in a phone box." Gene remarked, getting ticked off by how much loyalty his new Inspector was inspiring in his old one. Goes to show that even Goody Two Shoes Gladys could be guilty of thinking with his todger. "How, Sam? A boogie down The Cave, couple of sherries and then back to his gaff for a slap and a tickle? Don't be ridiculous, Tyler. Look at her. Airs and graces this one. Like a drop of Bolly before-"

"I'll get my knickers off?" Alex smiled, smug to see him jerk at her following his train of thought. "Very imaginative. I do know how to go undercover, you know." It wasn't her speciality, of course, but she needed an opportunity to prove herself.

"Oh, I'm sure you've been under plenty of covers, love." One more insult for good measure; she rolled her eyes. "I don't like it."

She folded her arms, expectantly. "And your better idea is?"

Gene's acceptance of her plan had been more than begrudging, but it was a step in the right direction, she decided. By the time they'd made it down to the morgue, it almost felt a little like old times, even if Ray was relentlessly eyeing her up and Chris was too nervous to even speak to her. But then she'd catch that look of suspicion in Gene's eyes and she'd remember why she was here and how this wasn't like old times at all. Where was Shaz when you needed her, hmm?

As they pulled back the sheet, Alex looked grimly down at the young man before her. A bullet to the head. Seeing it so clearly, she wondered why she'd ever thought there was any surviving it.

"She's not going to faint, is she?"

Gene's voice broke her reverie, his tone leaving her in no doubt that he assumed she'd be generally useless. He sniffed bored, as she narrowed her eyes at him.

"You want to talk about?" Ray smirked. "Get it off your chest, like."

"I've got a spare curly wurly going, if you're interested." Chris offered, feeling around in his pockets.

"No thanks, Chris." Alex smiled, deciding to be nice and ignoring Ray's murmur of poof. "I can call you Chris, can't I?"

"Oh, yeah, sure," Chris swallowed, taken aback that the new inspector was speaking to him directly, "whatever you want Boss...Ma'am," He frowned, confused, looking between Sam and Alex, "- who's in charge of who, then?"

"I am in charge of all of you." The Guv snapped, fed up and needing a drink. "Now, if you wouldn't mind, I'm waiting for Dr. Death to tell us the bleedin' obvious here!""

"Quite," The well-spoken doctor smiled charmingly, entering the room and making his way to the head of the body, "and it is all rather obvious, I'm afraid. Shot at point-blank range, we found this imbedded in what was left of his parietal lobe." He smiled still, passing Ray a bullet.

".357 Magnum, Guv." Ray provided, giving it the once over.

"A gunshot wound like that to the head - he didn't stand a chance." Alex sighed inwardly as the doctor went on. "There are abrasions on his skin, his arms in particular, and his wrist is broken but my best guess is that all took place post-mortem. He's a big chap, it would have taken a few men to move him and I'm assuming they didn't take much care when tossing him into the ditch."

"No, they bloody didn't." The Guv muttered dourly. "What I wouldn't do to bring back hanging."

Alex dragged her gaze away from the victim. "And you're sure his death is connected to Jim Davids?"

"Of course, I'm bloody sure." He snapped back, standing taller. "Which is why you are gonna do exactly what I say, alright? One wrong move tonight, and you could end up on one of these an' all."

She almost barked a laugh. It was looking very likely at this point. "Concerned?" She didn't bother waiting for a response, walking back out through the morgue and into the early evening. Alex sighed as she heard Sam's footsteps rush after her.

"You'll be alright. Lightening doesn't strike twice." He tried, before grimacing at what a bad joke it was. She smiled grimly; seemingly, Sam had the same idea she had. It was all over for her. "Sorry."

"It's alright," She assured him, too tired to bicker with anyone, let alone the only person who knew what she was going through, "it's just...I don't know that I'm..." She sighed, trying to make sense of it all. "I can't be dead, can I? Not after everything - before, there was so much happening, I knew when they were operating and I knew that I had an infection, and now - nothing. Silence."

"You haven't been here a day, Alex. Give it some time." Sam tried, urging her not to give up. Logically, Alex knew he was right. She might yet hear from 2008; she hadn't tried turning on a telly yet and voices were always coming out of there. But still, that feeling - that the link to her former life had been broken - wouldn't leave her. "How do you know them?" She frowned at the question. Sam nodded towards where'd they come from, clarifying. "All that stuff you were yelling at Hunt, not to mention the fact that you don't bat an eyelid at Ray being...Ray."

"I do know them." She couldn't help the fond smile. "I've been here awhile, but in a different time. A later time." Alex shrugged, helplessly. Saying too much had burnt her once before in this world - that's why she was now here -, she didn't want to run the risk of doing so again. "I don't want to say too much."

"In case it changes too much?" Sam inquired, interested.

Alex looked at him, bemused at how unfazed he now was about all of it. "You don't seem half as worried as I am."

"No, because - in this place - I believe things happen for a reason." He smiled, confidently. "You being here means something."

Did it? She'd been so sure of that once. "Everything is significant."

"Exactly." His smile turned into a grin. "So maybe, just maybe, you're here to change things for the better."

A ghost of smile crossed her lips at his optimism. His idea of things sounded preferable to all the dark thoughts running through her head. "I best get ready for tonight - quite where, I don't know."

"Well, you're in luck, me and Annie have got a place together now and the lease on my flat doesn't come up for a month or so, so here," He pulled a set of keys out, handing them to her. "- it's yours. I'll swing you round there and you can borrow one of Annie's dresses, she won't mind." He gestured towards his car down the road, for her to get in. "Go on."

The smile dropped off Sam's face as she walked away, his heart aching for her. Bullet to the head. Infection. It didn't look good, but she'd have to figure that out on her own. He went to follow her, but paused as he heard a grunt from behind. Sam turned, seeing the Guv's eyes, too, following the woman who'd suddenly shown up in their lives.

"I don't know about this, Sam."

Whether the Guv was worried for her or just didn't trust her, Sam wasn't sure either way, but if everything happened for a reason, then Alex showing up when they were trying to take down Jim Davids had to mean something. "We've been chasing this guy for a long time; we could use a fresh perspective. It's worth a try."

Gene sniffed, unconvinced. "I'll be the judge of that."

Six hours later, that sniff had turned into a scowl which had turned into a moan which had turned into a full-blown tirade. Whilst Alex had gone into The Cave to search for Davids and find out what she could, the Guv had decided - to Ray and Chris' chagrin - that it would be best if they kept an eye on things and staked out the joint. Back-up, that's what the Guv had said it was. But both Alex and Sam knew that the Guv was incapable of giving up any control, least of all to some posh bird he'd just met. Now, Alex was late for the meet-up and they were getting concerned.

Well, Sam was getting concerned; the Guv was just getting pissed off. Hence, the tirade. He rolled his eyes, as Gene drank from his flask and screwed the cap on in annoyance. "Well, this has been a complete waste of my soddin' time - where the hell is she?"

"Maybe we should have wired her up." Sam finally sighed, thoughtfully.

"What the bloody hell for?" The Guv demanded, turning in the driving seat to glare at the man next to him. "You told me that she'd only be getting the lay of the land?"

"Oh, I bet she's getting laid, alright." Sam rubbed his eyes at Ray's smutty comment, one of many that evening.

He sighed again, making an admittance. "She said she'd be out by eleven; it's almost midnight."

He didn't need to look to know there was smoke coming out of Gene's ears."Well, thank you for telling me that little gem of information!" He berated, flinging the car door open. "Stupid tart - now I'm gonna have to go in there and-"

"Guv, I spot her, there!" Chris interrupted, puffing on his fag, espying a woman stumbling out of the club on the arm of some guy. "I think, she's pissed."

"She's very pissed." Ray laughed, as Alex giggled at something the man whispered in her ear.

"Women." Gene complained, feeling that to be insult enough. "Who's that with her?"

"It's Davids, Guv." Chris supplied, his eyes younger than anyone else's. "Are we nicking him?"

"For what? Copping a feel of my rat-arsed DI?" The Guv scowled, glaring at the back of Sam's head for talking him into this. "For Christ's sake!."

"Well, come on, then." Sam turned back to the front, as Alex made her goodbyes and began to walk off. "Alex said she'd meet us in the Railway Arms."

"How? She can't even walk in a straight line."

"Guv!"

Gene looked up, exasperated. "I'm not driving all the way to the Arms, just to get a call that there's a slutty-looking bird with a police badge collapsed outside 'ere!"

"Who are you calling a slut?" Sam protested, as Alex walked off in his girlfriend's red number. "That's Annie's dress she's wearing."

"Looks better on Drake."

Sam glared at him for that, but didn't rise to it. "You can't prove yourself right if we don't go back." He said logically, before giving in to the inevitable:

"First rounds on me."

"Oh, would you look at that? Well, Sammy boy, it seems that-"

Sam grinned like a Cheshire cat as the Guv stopped mid-sentence as they came further into the Arms and all spotted Alex sitting in a booth, tapping her fingers impatiently. He folded his arms smugly, taking a moment to enjoy Gene's annoyed pout.

"You lot took your sweet time." Alex declared, getting up and sashaying past them to the bar. "Now, which one of you lads is going to buy me a drink? I'm parched."

"Haven't you had enough?" Gene's pout remained in place.

"I haven't even started." She rolled her eyes at the look of confusion that passed between Chris and Ray. "Men tend to be a little more candid and lot more forward with inebriated women who, in turn, are less quick to turn them down and less likely to remember every stupid thing they say." She clarified, as if talking to idiots. "Why do you think Ray's always trying to pull the drunk ones?"

Ray opened his mouth to defend himself, but the Guv stopped him with a look. She had a point - how, Gene had no idea. "Pick up much?" He said instead, getting back to business.

"Not a lot." Alex admitted, unapologetically as Gene propped himself up on the bar next to her. "It was opening night after all, Jim's a busy man."

"Jim, is it?" He narrowed his eyes at the familiarity before glaring at Sam again, knowing it would be a waste of time. "A night well-spent, then."

"I hope to get more out of him on Wednesday. On our date." Alex went on, unperturbed. "He wants to take me to Luddy's, wherever that is."

"A date?! On a Wednesday?!" Gene spat. Whether he was more pissed off at her taking matters into her own hands or having a date, Sam didn't care to guess.

"I wouldn't, Ma'am," Chris warned, "I don't think he's really your type."

"Is this why London wanted rid of you?" Gene said, annoyed. "Because you were too busy throwing yourself at the crims instead of banging them up?"

"Fine, I'll cancel if that's what you want." Alex held up her hands accommodatingly, refusing to riled but refusing to back down. "But then, you're going to have to do a little espionage yourselves. One of the chattier bartenders gave it away that Davids doesn't do business in his office, but rather on the roof. Hidden in plain view."

"So?"

"So," She went on, impatience creeping in, "you need to be on that roof. Or, at least, plant a recording device. How else do you expect to pin him for being a drug lord?"

"Do I look like Roger Moore to you?"

She could only wonder where he was going with that thought. "Not particularly."

"Then, would you pack it in with all this spooky-dooky crap?!" Gene complained, his voice rising. "Forget about drug dealings, I want him for murder, Drake." She went to interrupt, but there was no stopping him. "Tom Pooling, that kid's name was. His face has been half shot away, but you can still tell it's him - beanpole of a lad, like I was. He grew up on my street back in Lancaster- his mam gave me my first handjob - and that twatface, who you want to get your wiggly bits out for, is the reason why kids on my patch, are dying. And I'm not having it!"

Alex opened her mouth to berate him - what for, she didn't know. He always complained about her getting too emotionally involved and now here he was, not looking at the bigger picture. She could go ten rounds with him but she didn't want to, not now, not today, not when their arguing had taken it all too far.

"I know." She said simply, quietly, her eyes scanning his face and coming to rest on his own, silently begging him to see sense and to not make her his enemy. "But we've got no murder weapon, no murder scene, no evidence tying Tom's death to Davids - the chances are that he had one of his henchmen pull the trigger anyway." She stepped closer, not blinking for a second. "We need a confession. A date with me - as enchanting as it would be for most men," She smiled softly at the small joke and was pleased to see a tiny smirk come to his own lips, "- won't have him confessing to all, he's too clever for that, but we'll find out what he cares about and what gets under his skin. Then, we can move in for the kill. If you want to make this stick, we've got to play a slow game here, Guv."

It was the first time she'd called him Guv, here in 1975, and she'd picked the right moment to butter him up with it. Ray sighed inwardly, sharing a look with Chris, as Gene nodded slowly in agreement. Losing the Guv to Tyler, a man could handle that, but to a woman - they looked too bloody well-matched and Ray shook his head to think he was going to lose his drinking partner to a pretty face.

"A drink for the lady, Nelson." Gene declared and Alex grinned inwardly, knowing it was his way of accepting her into the fold. Unless this whole plan goes tits up, of course.

"Sure thing, mon brav." Alex shared a smile with Sam to see the infamous Nelson make his way towards them, "What you having?"

"What do you suggest?" She asked, suddenly in desperate need of a drink. Nelson frowned, confused. "I mean, your selection of wine, what's it like?"

"You're looking at red or white, Bollyknickers." Gene snorted, getting his wallet out. "Best off getting a shandy."

Alex raised a challenging eyebrow. "I'll have what you're having, actually."

"Bourbon. Double." Gene smirked at her, but she took up the challenge:

"Sounds perfect."

Of course, many bourbons later, it did occur to her that whiskey on a rather empty stomach probably wasn't the best way to start her first day on the job, or to impress the Guv. But she'd spent the first few weeks of her time in 1981 in a drunken haze and it hadn't completely ruined his impression of her, so she gave it little thought, Instead, she drained her glass, as she tried to remain balanced on the bar stool.

"First lady Inspector in our department, but with the size of that plum in your gob, I can't think what you're doing up 'ere."

Gene seemed genuinely interested, but she assumed that vague was best for now. And as for the truth, well, that had gone down like a lead balloon last time. "Wanted a change of scenery, I guess."

"Yeah, well," He sniffed, throwing his own drink back, "you liven the place up a bit, that's for sure."

Alex blinked slowly, a flirtatious smile naturally coming to her lips. "Is that a compliment?"

"It's an observation." He smiled back. "Not every day we get a nice bit of totty to look at - or I get punched in the gob."

Alex leant on her hand, taking the time to really look at him. It was starting to come to her attention, not only how at home he appeared here, but how different he was. He looked younger. Not only with regards to appearance - in fact, looks-wise he wouldn't age that much - but here, he seemed more content, less troubled almost. As if the weight of the world wasn't on him. Or, at least, he had someone to share its weight with. Sam's death - she had no idea it would hit him so hard.

"You're different here." She pouted thoughtfully, admiring his smile - which was always so rare in the 1980s and only ever for her. "Softer."

He mirrored her, propping his chin up. "You calling me soft?" He had the good grace to feign offence, but once again, a smile tugged at his mouth begrudgingly.

She sighed inwardly, wishing he'd held on to this when he moved down to London. "You smile more, too."

More smiley and more ballsy, apparently, as she looked down sharply to see Gene touching the hem of her dress, "What is this, satin?" He frowned, concentrating. "No, somethin' else."

She barked a laugh."You're drunk."

"Hmmm, probably." He agreed, before rubbing a hand over his face, sighing to himself. "Wife won't be best pleased. Like this already on Monday - the rest of the week will be much the same."

Alex swallowed dumbly and sat up slightly, the intimacy broken between them as he wisely let go of her dress. "Wife?" She shook her head, trying to defog her brain. "You're married." She stated, didn't question. How could she forget that? It's 1975, of course he's married.

"You sound almost disappointed." Gene tried for another flirty joke, but his eyebrows hit his hairline to think she actually was a little put-out. He cleared his throat, awkwardly. "You not married, then?"

The question took her aback, but she answered anyway."I was, once upon a time. He rather put me off the institution." She muttered, starting to feel uncomfortable and looking around the pub. She could only imagine what Ray, Chris and the other stragglers of C.I.D thought of her now - that she was desperately throwing herself at their married Guv, no doubt. How pathetic. "I wonder where Sam's got to?"

"Bladder of a knat, that one." He joked again, but could see she was no longer in the mood. "You know, Cartwright's back in a few days and I don't think she'll be wanting her old man lending her stuff out to someone like you."

Alex turned to him, affronted. "Someone like me?"

"You know what I mean," Gene rolled his eyes; she'd seen a mirror, she must know how good she looked. Raquel Welch didn't compare really. "Ray's been drooling into his moustache all day. Can't say I blame 'im though."

"Another compliment, my my." She smirked at that, never awkward around him for long, before making a confession. "I, sort of, came to Manchester with only the clothes on my back."

"If that." He snorted; she glared. Sighing, Gene got his wallet out and discreetly handed her a wodge of notes. "Here."

"What?" She looked down at their hands and shook her head, vehemently. "No, I can't accept this."

"Yes, you can." She went to shake her head again, but he wasn't having it. "If I'm going to be policing these shitty streets with you prattling on at me from now on, I'm gonna need something to look at."

She raised an eyebrow at the comment. "Charmingly put as always, Gene-"

"You know, you could just say thank you."

"You two seem to be getting on better?" Sam said, waltzing back up to the bar, having watched some of the exchange. He could only imagine what went on with them before, in Alex's time. He was already dreading the hundred and one opinions Annie was going to have on the matter.

The Guv scowled, his heart not in it, but sat back, putting a bit of needed distance between them. "Bolly's only been here five minutes and she's already bleedin' me dry."

Sam smiled, knowing the Guv was more than happy to help her out, before frowning, missing something. "Bolly?"

"DI Bollingerknickers, this one 'ere!" Gene nodded towards Alex, who'd suddenly taken a great interest in her empty glass. He thrust the notes in her hand one last time and closed her palm around them. "Just take it, go on, get yourself up the high street - you'll be needing gladrags for Wednesday night, won't you?"

"Gladrags?" She asked, confused.

"Well, you said he was taking you to Luddy's, didn't you?" She nodded in confirmation. "Posh place, that."

"Is there a particular dress code?"

"Yes, lookin' good enough that the murdering bastard will want to drop trou' and tell you all his dirty little secrets!"

"It won't come to that, though." Sam interjected, seeing the look of disgust on Alex's face.

"No, it bloody won't."

Sam glanced sharply at Gene's grim expression. Determined son of a bitch if there ever was one. He looked between the two of them, again, suddenly feeling very sorry for Mrs. Hunt and a huge headache coming on.

"Thank you." Alex smiled, shyly, gesturing to the ladies'. "I'm just gonna..."

"Alright, well, then I'll show you round the flat properly, show you where everything is, how to get there from here?" Sam offered, smiling as she nodded in agreement and watching her go. She did look lovely in the dress, but his Annie looked better. God, he couldn't wait for her to come home - at least so he didn't have to deal with all of this alone.

He turned back to the Guv, frowning at the curious expression he found there. "What?"

"Why are you being so nice to her?"

"I'm always nice." Sam said, without hesitation, and more surprised that the Guv wanted to have this conversation. "And I might ask you the same question."

The Guv scratched his cheek, nonchalantly enough to fool most. "That's me being nice to you. Annie'll want to deck you anyway for making friends with that, best not to make it worse by putting her in your wife's clothes."

"Okay; firstly, Annie won't be my wife until June-"

"I'm counting the days."

"-and secondly," Sam continued, ignoring Gene's sarcasm, "you're underestimating her."

Gene shook his head. "Cartwright may have always been a smart plonk, but she's still a woman - and they see red when they suspect other birds sniffing about."

Other birds? Sam raised an eyebrow, wondering if the Guv thought Sam was interested in Alex."You jealous?" Or that Alex was interested in him. He sighed, deciding not to pull on that thread. "Besides, I meant you're underestimating Alex. She did good tonight."

"She did her job; I'm not gonna give her a ruddy medal for it." Gene sniffed, gesturing for Nelson to give him a refill.

"No medal," Sam said, seeing Nelson sigh, resigning himself to never getting rid of his punters tonight, "- just a chance would do."

"Already given, Gladys. Let's see what she does with it."

Rolling over in bed, Alex frowned to see the hands on her alarm clock. 9:06. Just like her watch. Not the best night's sleep she'd had. Crappy mattress, new decade and all that. Getting up, she came to the window and saw the sun starting to come up. No messages from home. Not even a dream. It had all gone quiet and she felt ashamed to admit that her disappointment was tinged with relief. It was nice to feel normal, for once.

She looked back around the room, grimacing at the wallpaper and the little kitchenette; she didn't even want to think about the bathroom. If she was going to be here indefinitely, she'd have to find another place. One that was quite her own. Maybe she'd stumble across another trattoria renting a flat above, that'd be nice. Going to the mirror, she ran a hand through her hair, accustoming herself to the style and to her make-up. Best do a bit of early shopping before heading into work. She couldn't wear a white jumpsuit her whole life and she'd need food; Gene had given her enough money to buy a small house by the looks of things. She hoped he'd accept the money back in instalments.

New dawn, new day, new life. It was strange how quickly she was accepting it here. Sam was a reassuring presence and Gene - well, he was being Gene. The Guv. And she didn't want to think about how good it felt to be under his wing again.

Walking back into Stopford House in her boots and jersey dress, Alex smiled to herself, happy with her morning's work. Not only had she made some developments on the case, but she'd also put together a very respectable wardrobe, including a very low-cut black jumpsuit for tomorrow night. A princess coat, high-waisted flared trousers, wide collar shirts, waistcoats, mini dresses with long, bellowing sleeves, polo necks and bell bottoms, high-heeled loafers and peep-toe heels, chiffon and paisley, pleats and every shade of brown under the Sun. So far 1975 was her kind of year. Mary Tyler Moore by day, and Saturday Night Fever by night, or so she guessed, she couldn't remember much of the 1970s. She'd even managed to pick up a faux fox fur coat in a charity shop as a nod to her former self. She smiled at the memory of it. All fur coat and no knickers, that one. Ray, proving himself to be as pleasant as ever, back in the days when he had little or no respect for her.

But coming into C.I.D, Alex realised that those days were well and truly still here, as she caught Ray give his final assessment on her to the rest of the lads and Phyllis.

"-I'm telling you, she's bad news and if she thinks droppin' her drawers for the Guv is gonna butter him up, she's got another thing coming-"

"Morning, Ma'am!" Alex narrowed her eyes as Chris gulped out a hello. Ray seemed unfazed at being caught mid-speech and went back to his chair, propping his legs on the desk.

"Boys." She smiled in greeting at everyone, hoping the others would warm up to her eventually. She supposed she couldn't blame them really, they didn't know her from Adam. But she knew them - and she didn't feel up to being the outsider again. "Thanks," She smiled, biting the bullet and coming over to Chris and Ray, " - for keeping an eye on me last night. Things could have gone differently and it was good to have back up."

"No problem, Ma'am." Chris smiled, ever pleased to be praised.

"Where's Sam and the Guv?" She asked conversationally.

"Policing - that's what we do around here." Ray said, rather icily, not caring for how easily Tyler and the Guv had taken to her. "It take you all morning to put your face on, did it?"

Alex narrowed her eyes, again. She could forgive him for being a twat, but if he thought he could be insubordinate, he had another thing coming. "Excuse me, Sergeant?"

But if anything, her use of his rank just riled Ray more. "You heard me - we've already got one barmy DI, we don't another who's a tart to boot." Kicking his feet on the desk, he got up to face her, not enjoying the height she had on him. "Everybody knows joining with the women's department was the worst decision ever made for the force, and now you all get the same pay for swannin' around in your skirts and doin' bugger all." He scoffed, looking around at some of the lads who nodded in agreement, though didn't have the balls to say anything. "You birds are tryin' to get your claws into us coppers, just to climb up the ladder. Cartwright's got her hooks into Tyler," He scowled, though schooled his expression a little as Sam slowly wandered into the hushed C.I.D, "- and now you're makin' gooey eyes at the Guv. I'm a Sergeant and I've got years on you - well not years, but you know what I mean - it's a joke."

Quite the speech. She could hit him, she supposed, but it wouldn't do her any good. Alex looked around to see most of the room thinking the same, that detective work was not for women, not really. Well, she'd prove them wrong soon enough and they'd learn to respect her for it, but until then, they couldn't go around thinking they could walk all over her. Poor Ray, you've just elected to be neutered.

"No, you're the joke, Carling." Alex said firmly, maintaining an impassive expression. "For forgetting that I'm your superior officer and can have you scrubbing cells all week if I so wished it. For ignoring the fact that having me on side is best if you want to progress professionally. For making the mistake of pissing off us birds with your shitty opinion on equal pay," She smiled inwardly to see Phyllis glaring in his direction, "and for assuming that I've spent all morning doing bugger all when I've actually been going over every statement made relating to Tom Pooling in order to piece together his connection to Jim Davids." Not the entire truth, but he didn't need to know that. "You're sick of being a Sergeant? Then, buck up your ideas and take responsibility for your career instead of moaning and groaning like an old woman." She supposed he'd take insult from that. Coming closer, she lowered her voice, making sure to mean every word. "And if you ever call me a tart again - or speak to any female officer in a similar fashion - I will be kneeing you in the groin. As hard as I can and on a very regular basis, until your balls are so black and blue that they drop off." She smiled sweetly. "Is that clear, Sergeant?"

"Crystal, Ma'am." His expression certainly said something different, but she let it go, assuring everyone else with a glare that they could expect a similar punishment should they wish it.

Turning to go to archives, she turned, surprised to see Sam smiling, seemingly impressed. "I see you and Ray are becoming firm friends."

She almost snorted - they were far from being that. But during the last few months before the Guv had shot her, they'd developed a mutual respect, even admiration. Glancing almost fondly in Ray's direction as he went back to his paper, she hoped they'd get that back. "He'll learn to love me eventually."

"You're very sure of yourself." Sam surmised, wondering again how much she knew about what was to come.

"I have to be." She sighed. "I'm not sure of anything else."

"So, what you got?" He asked, wanting to pull her back from lamenting. She frowned, puzzled. "Connecting Jim Davids to Tom Pooling?"

"Well, not as much as I would like," Alex said, admittedly, "- Davids certainly knows how to cover his tracks. That is, if Davids even did it."

"He did."

Alex pursed her lips to stop herself smiling."Gut feeling?"

"I've learned from the best." He winked cheekily.

"All reports seem to suggest that Tom was an addict - his mother was very adamant in her statement." Something didn't ring true, there. She licked her lips thoughtfully, hoping to delve a little deeper. "I also get the impression that the Guv has been very...tactful with his line of questioning. I know he knows the family, but..."

Sam nodded."He can empathise, his brother - Stuart, he died an addict." He turned, surprised to see Alex's eyes widen. "You didn't know that?" He stopped himself, not wanting to sound presumptuous. "Not that you should know necessarily, I just...thought that you two were, I don't know..."

Alex took pity on him, deciding to ponder Gene's personal history another time. Today, they had a job to do. "I don't know what we two are, were." She almost grimaced to say it. "We didn't leave things on a good note - now I have to start again."

"A second chance - there are worse things." Sam smiled at her, his smile widening as she rolled her eyes at his glass half-full attitude. He'd made his choice and he was happier for it; for now, Sam supposed, he'd have to be optimistic on her behalf.

"It doesn't make sense." She shook her head, her thoughts back on the case. "What dealings would Davids ever have with a teenage addict?"

"You think Tom was a dealer." He grimly read her thoughts.

"And so do you."

He nodded, sighing inwardly. It was all a bit of a mess, really, and he could only imagine the Guv's reaction to his next suggestion. "You think Mrs. Pooling knows more than she was letting on?"

Alex shrugged, not wanting to point any fingers. "I doubt much pressure was applied to a grieving mother."

"So, we're calling her in?" He asked, hoping for a negative, knowing the Guv would have his nuts in a vice for this, but Alex just continued staring at him, expectantly. "We're calling her in."

"I'm sorry, love." Gloria Pooling smiled, confused, taking a drag of her cigarette."I don't really understand why I'm here. I thought I'd said all that was needed to Gene."

"You were very helpful, Mrs. Pooling," Alex assured her, her gaze still trying not be distracted by all the shit in the interview room. It's not even a bloody interview room for a start. "But I was hoping to clear some things up. You said that your son's been hooked on..."

"Speed." Gloria confirmed. "Since he was about fifteen."

"Hmmm, but he was able to hold down a job," Alex went on, looking back to her notes, "- as a plumber?"

"Yeah, that's right, did a lot of odd jobs for people, worked all kinds of hours - had some bar shifts, too." The older woman smiled, wringing her hands a little.

Alex smiled to reassure her, but wondered where Sam had got to with that tea. She could use his input, he knew the case and the people involved far better than she did. "Nineteen and a qualified plumber, that's quite an achievement."

"Well, I don't know about qualified but he could fix a toilet," Gloria sat up a little straighter, feeling the Inspector to be taking issue with her son, "-it's a bit late for him to get in trouble for that."

"Well, fixing toilets certainly seems to pay well these days," Alex continued, looking again at her notes, knowing Tom's situation was too fishy to go unquestioned. "Nice flat in Salford with all the mod cons."

"Mod what?" Gloria snapped, starting to get defensive. "Look, Tommy did well - he was popular."

"Popular, yes." That had been the general consensus. "And persuasive, according to his mate, Harry."

"Not Harry Barnett?" Gloria scoffed, stabbing out her cigarette. "What's that even supposed to mean? Where's DCI Hunt? Harry's probably involved in all this - I don't why you're listening to him. He's usually as high as a kite."

"On speed - like your Tom. Only Harry says that he can barely get by - says his mum's about to kick him out because he can't get a job, can't function without his fix." Alex went on, feigning confusion as to why the two boys' circumstances would be so different. "He's good with a guitar apparently, uses the money he makes busking to feed this - this terrible disease. Because that's what addiction is, a disease." And Alex was pretty sure Tom Pooling wasn't suffering from it.

"I know," Gloria said, impatient with the toffee-nosed woman in front of her pretending like she had any idea, "- my boy was sick and no one could help him. None of you lot did anythin'!" She snapped, getting up from her seat. "Kept saying you'd clear it up, that you'd stop those bastards selling this crap to kids behind the bike shed, but it didn't work, did it? Drugs always stuffed in his sock drawer - my boy's dead and now you're treating me like I'm the one who killed him!"

"I'm not trying to accuse you of anything, Mrs. Pooling," Alex said slowly, trying to calm things, "- but has it ever occurred to you that it was your son who was the one do the selling behind the bike shed?"

"You bitch!"

Alex went to respond, but both women stopped as the door flew open and Gene Hunt walked in. He said nothing, but clenched his jaw as he looked over at Alex. The Guv looked back to Gloria, whose cheeks were already stained with tears.

"Gloria, you are free to go, love." He said gently, gesturing towards the door, where Sam now stood, uncomfortably.

"Have you heard what she's been saying, Gene," Gloria put a hand to her mouth, crying, "about my Tommy?"

"Don't need to - ignore her, she's off her meds." Gene assured her, not sparing Alex another glance. Alex knew better than to say anything; she didn't want to make the woman cry, but she wasn't being honest, with herself or with the police. "You need someone to drive you home? You still staying with your sister on Dale Street?" Gloria nodded, softly. "Phyllis will sort you out - sorry, love." He said, putting a hand to her shoulder and showing her out.

But Mrs Pooling stopped in the doorway to give Alex her attention once more. "Tommy was a good boy, Inspector, and I want justice for him."

"We'll get justice." Gene assured her. "Don't worry about that."

Getting up from her chair, Alex threw Sam an irritated glance; he shrugged apologetically but didn't say anything. He barely had a chance to before the Guv stormed back in, slamming the door so hard he nearly threw it off its hinges."What are you doing, you stupid mare?!"

"What am I doing?" Alex asked, choosing to rise above the insult as the Guv glowered at her.

"You promise me Davids on a plate and instead you're trying to stitch up the victim's mam!"

"I'm not trying to stitch up anyone," Alex insisted, defensively, " - I want the truth! Tom Pooling was a drug dealer and she knows it! She knows it, but she doesn't want to face it-"

"Then why should she, Drake?!" Gene demanded, cutting her off. "A boy has his face blown off and he's the bad guy?!"

She scowled at how he was twisting things. "Why is everything always so black and white with you? If we don't have the facts, we can't-"

"I've told you the facts!" Gene went on, angrily. "David did it!"

"Well, let's cuff him now, shall we?" She threw her arms in the air, voice dripping with sarcasm. "I'm sure your word alone is good enough for a judge!" Alex rounded on Sam, amazed that he'd gone from being her biggest champion to trying to blend in with the wallpaper. "Is this why you buggered off to get tea, because you knew he'd hit the roof?"

"He buggered off because he knew what was good for him!" Gene bellowed. "Because he knew that Gloria should be crying over her dead son, not defending herself against you, you - loon!" He spat it, coming closer, losing his rag with her as she clucked her tongue at his lack of imagination.

"Tom Pooling was a drug dealer," Alex tried again, lowering her voice, hoping to make him see sense, "he probably had been for a while - who better to get kids hooked on this stuff than another kid?"

"Doesn't change anything." Gene insisted, stubbornly. "Why d'you think he got shot, eh?"

"Well, with you interrupting all my bloody interviews, I'll never find out!"

"Because he knew he was doing wrong, because he was gonna turn himself in, turn Davids in." Gene nodded approvingly of his assessment of things.

Alex gawped for a moment, incredulous. "You don't know that!"

"Yes, I do!"

"No, you don't!"

"DO!"

"Okay, okay," Sam finally stepped in, regretting his conscious decision to let them have it out, "- it's starting to scare me how similar you two are."

They both turned on him, then. Sam swallowed as Alex snapped at him."Don't be ridiculous."

"Gladys," Gene barked, "you take that back, right now."

Sam wiped a hand over his face, at a loss. "You both have a point, it would easier if you-"

"I have a point because I am the Guv and you belong to me, Drake." Again, she scoffed at him and finally he snapped entirely, dragging her by the arm and out of the room, back into C.I.D. She tried to shake him off but to little effect. Groaning at their behaviour, Sam followed, knowing none of this was going to end well. "Enough of this soddin' nonsense - you are doing my head in! Here, sit!" The Guv ordered, guiding her to a chair and sitting her down. "I want these reports typed up by the time I get back!"

"Forget it," Alex flushed at being reprimanded in front of the rest of the team. She ignored Ray's smirking and went to stand, "I am not your secretary!"

"You're my junior officer," Gene contradicted her, pushing her shoulders and Alex back into the chair, "- you're whatever I say you are!"

By the mid-afternoon, Alex had had more than enough. The happy foursome had gone off to deal with some serial mugging case and none of the rest of C.I.D had returned since lunch. Instead, she'd been left typing up everyone else's reports, most of whom she outranked and all of whom couldn't spell for shit. Especially Chris. God, she didn't envy Shaz. She sighed, wondering what her younger friend would be doing in 1975. She supposed Shaz would still be at school. Maybe one day she'd head down to London, find out for herself.

If she ever got out of this place. No windows, no light. There didn't even seem to be a vent for the cigarette smoke; it just clung to the air like a fog. It wasn't Fenchurch and with Sam firmly established as the DI, Alex couldn't think of her purpose here, how she fit in. The excitement of this morning was wearing off fast and she was starting to feel very alone, - she glanced around the empty room - literally.

Alex jumped at the shrill ring of the telephone, but quickly picked it up, glad of any distraction.

"C.I.D, Detective Inspector Drake speaking."

"Can I speak with DCI Hunt?"

It was a woman's voice, but not familiar. "I'm afraid he's out at the moment, not sure when he'll be back, can I take a message?" She asked, going to grab a pen.

"Oh, Sam ain't about, is he? Or Ray?"

Obviously the woman was familiar with C.I.D. "No, they're with DCI Hunt as well."

"I've had enough of this. It's his bloody mam -!" Alex frowned at the woman's frustrated tone. "Could you remind my husband when he gets back that his mother needs taking to her hospital appointment for three this afternoon. Gene knows I can't do it, because me car's packed in."

Alex swallowed nervously. My husband. So this was Mrs. Hunt.

"I would say of course," Alex tried genially, "but the chances are your husband won't be back for three." She licked her lips, looking at the mountain of reports she had yet to get through and her curiosity getting the better of her. "Why don't you give me the address?"

She could imagine the confusion on the other woman's face. She doubted anyone else would jump up to help one of the wives. "...I couldn't ask you to do that; I'm sure you've far better things to do."

"Not today, I don't." Alex assured her, pulling another ruined sheet out of the typewriter. "Honestly, it would be a pleasure."

"Mrs Hunt?"

Alex blinked to find a petite, grey-haired lady opening the door, a kind smile on her face. If it weren't for the blue eyes, she wouldn't have guessed she was any relation of Gene's. "Yes, love?"

"I'm Inspector Alex Drake. Your...your son's been waylaid," She smiled nervously, finding it odd that the Guv was ever anyone's son, "and your daughter-in-law was concerned that you'd miss your hospital appointment, so I said I'd give you a lift, is that alright?"

"Don't have much choice, do I?" The older lady smiled enigmatically, before stepping back. "Come on in, I was making a brew anyway - don't need to be there 'til four."

She nodded pointlessly following Gene's mother in. "Mrs. Hunt - the other Mrs. Hunt, that is - said the appointment was for three o'clock."

"Oh, that's what I tell them so I stand a chance of making it on time." Mrs. Hunt grinned cheekily, gesturing for her guest to take a seat in the living room. "Eugene's a busy boy these days."

Alex raised an amused eyebrow. Eugene, is it? "Do you need any help?"

"No, no just sit yourself down." Mrs. Hunt waved her off as she came back in with another mug. She set it down, pouring for both of them. "Here, have a pink wafer. You take sugar, don't you?"

She really didn't, but three cubes were in there before she opened her mouth. Good to know where Gene got his sweet tooth from. "Yes, thank you."

"You sound a bit posh for round here - you new?" Mrs. Hunt asked, taking heavily to her armchair. "Eugene's never mentioned you."

"New, as of yesterday."

"He must have thanked his lucky stars, good-looking lady like you. He's always been a soft touch round pretty girls." She wrinkled her nose, pleased to see - rather than blush - Alex roll her eyes at the notion.

"Then your son must find me about as attractive as the Elephant man, Mrs. Hunt," Alex informed her, "because he's no soft touch with me."

Alex frowned; there was that enigmatic smile again."You like Manchester?"

"I'm not sure yet - I'm getting my bearings. I fell out with my former Chief Inspector," She answered honestly enough, smiling grimly, "the damage was fairly irreparable, so I thought I'd start again."

"Well, it's a good job you're with my boy, then - 'cause he wouldn't think anything was irreparable; he's all about giving people second chances in life." His mother was convinced of that much. In life, Alex wondered. In your other life or here? More questions stopped her pondering. "You came alone? No husband, no children?"

"Only an ex-husband and I had a daughter, but she..." Alex trailed off, not knowing what to say; she glanced around the room in the hopes of starving off any tears. It wouldn't do to cry in front of a Hunt.

The older woman's eyes softened immediately."You don't need to explain. I lost my boy Stuart a while back now."

It was a natural assumption made on Mrs. Hunt's part and Alex didn't want to correct her, though it killed her to ever think of Molly as lost. She prayed that her daughter live a long and happy life, whether she was ever reunited with her or not. But, for all intents and purposes, it made sense - here, in 1975 - to let people believe what they wanted. Molly didn't exist here and she was better pleased to talk about someone else's child than her own."Oh?"

"Yeah, to drugs, unfortunate business that - I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy." Mrs. Hunt confided, empathising with Gene's new DI. "Moved down from Lancaster after that, too many memories - I think Eugene wanted me about, too, so I didn't have to worry about getting to hospital appointments on my lonesome and yet..." She sighed, tutting affectionately.

It didn't take too long to get to the hospital. In fact, the whole thing was an eye-opener, showing her where Gene got his soft underbelly from. The love of a good woman. His mother was charming and kind, good at setting people at ease without being too nice, but one could see a determinedness there, a steeliness when pushed. Speaking to his wife and now his mother, it just brought it back to Alex that this man - this Gene Hunt - he was real. Real and so important to so many people. Sat in the waiting room with only magazines for company, she had enough time to think on it.

"Hope you've not been too bored?"

Alex jumped to see Mrs. Hunt back, smiling down at her. "Hmmm, oh no, of course not! Sorry - I was miles away."

"Doctor's gonna do an x-ray on my leg ," She scowled, looking more like her son by the minute, "my hip's been giving me so much gip recently."

"You should have said." Alex clucked her tongue, feeling rather guilty. She knew she'd seen a grimace or two on their way in. "I'd have got a wheelchair when we arrived."

"Oh love, you are sweet to worry," She smiled, but waving her off again. Alex shook her head, exasperated. "You alright to wait a little longer? They said I could give them my jewellery, but anyone could make off with it, couldn't they?" She said suspiciously, handing Alex her treasure trove. "Thanks, love."

Alex looked down, expecting perhaps a ring or watch, but was surprised to see a pendant in her palm. She frowned at its familiarity. "St. Michael the Archangel."

"You know him?" Mrs. Hunt's smile widened at her recognition. "I'm Catholic 'course, me dad's family were Irish, though he didn't like to own it - me husband wasn't so I guess I'll be buried with that. You Catholic?"

"I don't know what I am anymore." Despite recent events, she hadn't found herself turning to religion, but enough all girls' boarding schools, a compulsory Sunday school and a photographic memory had left her pretty much set as far as Christian dogma went. "Michael leads God's army, doesn't he? Triumphs over evil?"

"Aye, he does that, but he's also the Angel of Death." Alex's head snapped up at that. "Giving souls a chance to redeem themselves before it's too late." Mrs. Hunt smiled softly, no doubt her thoughts turning to her lost son, but her glare directed for her other one. "Where the hell have you been?!"

Alex turned to see a flurry of camel in white loafers - where are the cowboy boots? - coming towards them. She smirked to see him bend over, breathless. "I'm here now, aren't I?" He took a breath, his eyes resting on his Inspector. "Imagine my surprise to find out my DI had decided to-"

"Honestly, I don't ask for much." Alex's smirk only grew as his mother interrupted. "I don't complain when you don't come round for your Sunday tea, nor when you only send over that wife of yours instead, but you could have remembered this, Eugene." She stared him down, despite her son having almost a foot on her. "Poor Alexandra has been ferrying me about, having to listen to me natter on-"

"It's been a pleasure, Mrs. Hunt, honestly."

Gene narrowed his eyes at her, the insult of brown nose coming through clear enough. "You could have tried the radio."

"I didn't think there was time." She shrugged, happily.

"You didn't want to do what you were told, more like." He muttered, glancing between the two women, dreading what they'd been talking about.

"Well, the whole thing was ludicrous." Alex waved him off, taking a page out of his mother's book. "I'm not a typist, Gene-"

"Guv!" He corrected her, his temper flaring.

"Oh I'm sorry, so there's a chain of command in place, is there?" She asked sarcastically, coming to stand. "You can't expect me to call you Guv when you're having me type up Ray's reports - it's not right and you know it! He doesn't have any respect for me as it is, and if you don't back me up it'll all fall apart-"

"Back you up?" He asked incredulously. "What about backing me up, woman?!"

"Not this again - I do back you up, but I'm not going to accept your judgment as fact." Alex complained, "I called in Gloria Pooling because I thought you might want my perspective-"

"You mean your crackpot theories!" Gene decided. "Tyler looks positively normal standing next to the likes of you!"

Alex ignored the insult. "A difference of opinion isn't an attempt to undermine your authority, it's to help you get a result as quickly as possible, but fine!" She said, shrugging as nonchalantly as she could. "You want 'yes Guv, no Guv, three bags full Guv', I can give you that."

Fat chance that would be happening - he could see it already. She's going to be a bigger pain in the arse than haemorrhoids. "What I want is your bony arse falling in line-"

"Eugene!"

Gene blinked back to his mother, suddenly remembering her presence. The lifted eyebrow and the glance towards Bolly told him her suspicions were raised. He grimaced inwardly. Give me strength. He sniffed, holding his hand out for the St. Michael, which she dropped gently into his palm. It was late, his mother knew too much and arguing with Alex Drake was starting to give him the horn.

"You better have a pint waiting for me in the Arms, Bolly."

He merely pouted, irritated, as her face lit up, pleased with herself. "Your wish is my command, Guv." She turned to Mrs. Hunt, smiling. "It was so lovely to meet you, Mrs Hunt. I hope everything goes well."

"'Til next time, Alexandra." Mrs. Hunt smiled, ignoring her son's muttering of that not being bloody likely. "And call me Dotty, please. Mrs. Hunt makes me feel like this one's wife." Alex's nostrils flared with amusement; Dotty's tone gave away how dimly she felt about that comparison.

Both Hunts watched Alex go with an inward sigh. Gene rubbed his eyes, needing a drink. "She's gonna be the death of me."

His mother only rolled her eyes; she doubted Eugene would mind all that much.

It hadn't take her long to get back to the Arms, she'd quite enjoyed the drive. So far she'd avoided a spin in the Cortina - she just couldn't imagine it would match up to the Quattro - and was already considering buying a car when she had the time. Could do a little exploring, she thought. She hadn't been up North much. A police training seminar in Newcastle, a friend's hen do in Blackpool, she'd had a Liverpudlian boyfriend at university so she'd been there a few times, but that was about it. It was almost starting to disturb her how quickly she was adjusting to life here, even if she didn't know her purpose. But without any connections to the real world - or other world, she wasn't sure what to think anymore - she was at a loss as to what to do with her time. Foil a blag, go to the pub - that's what she'd be doing for the foreseeable future. Might as well buy a decent set of wheels.

Whether she should laugh or cry at the prospect, she didn't know, but Sam could see the melancholy all over her face as she came back into the Arms. So, he'd done what he thought best - bought a bottle of wine and then another. She'd lasted 48 hours without attempting to throw herself off a roof - that was one up on him - so she deserved to drown her sorrows and the least he could was participate.

So, as the buzz of a crappy Chianti got to both of them and the boys from C.I.D raised eyebrows at their new-found friendship, Sam entertained Alex with stories of cases, of old times, and of Gene Hunt. He grinned as she giggled at the idea of Hunt impersonating a landlord; it didn't surprise her that he'd got bladdered, but his type of a good time did.

"Hunt's not drunk and falling over stuff where you're from, then?" Sam grinned lazily, his words - like Alex's - already slurring over each other.

"Oh, he gets drunk," Alex confirmed, blinking slowly as she let the memories come to her, "but it's just us, in the corner of a little Italian restaurant." Her smile grew wistful, as Sam shook the last drop of wine into her glass."He's got three settings: angry, nostalgic and contently and annoyingly smug. He's a perv in all cases." She grinned again at Sam's snort. "More wine please, Nelson!"

Nelson came over, assessing the two who were both looking worse for wear. "You want a glass or a-"

"Bottle." They said simultaneously. Chin in hand, Alex frowned at Nelson inquisitively. "Sam says you're full of good advice-"

"I did?" Sam frowned, racking his brain.

"In your case file, you did. You got any advice for me?" She implored the bartender. "I could really use some."

"Nah, sister," Nelson said, setting another bottle down for them, "advice ain't what you need right now."

"Deep, isn't he?" Sam was back to grinning. "What's this about a case file?"

"Oh, well, when you..." She waved a hand, not wanting to say it but Sam simply raised a bemused eyebrow, "- you jumped, there was an investigation; I was going to write a book about you."

Sam laughed. "About how crazy I am?"

Alex opened her mouth to contradict him, but found she couldn't. "Pretty much." She smiled, taking a slurp of her wine.

"I'm flattered."

"You should be." Alex insisted at his deadpanned expression. "God, we should be studied - I'm still surprised neither of us have cracked in here. Or maybe this is us cracking right now."

"Give it time." He muttered drily. "But what with your parents and my dad..." He shook his head; after the childhood stories they'd shared with each other this evening, he was surprised either of them had managed to become productive members of society. Alex looked at him, waiting for him to say something terribly morbid. But the wine had done its job and he leant in grinning at his own joke. "- Chris and Ray might be the sanest of all of us!"

She threw her head back laughing and feeling so much lighter for it. Their giggling continued as Ray and some of the other boys heckled them to keep it down, but she didn't have it in her to care. It felt nice to have someone who - if only for one night - would poke fun at the ironies and idiosyncrasies of this world with her.

Her laughter soon ceased as someone broke in between them, leaning against the bar as if they weren't even there. She looked sluggishly up to see those familiar broad Gene Hunt shoulders blocking her view of Sam and the bar.

"A pint and whiskey chaser for me, Nelson, and whatever her Highness is having," Gene barked, before directing Sam off with the nod of his head, "- Tyler, go peel Chris off that poor barmaid, would you?"

Alex frowned at his bossiness, looking around to see Sam pursing his lips to stop a grin; the younger man smirked at her, completely unsurprised by the development. She sighed. "But I bought us a bottle-"

"With my money, if I remember correctly." Gene finally looked down at her, pointedly, knowing she couldn't object. He glared at Sam again. "You two have been joined at the hip all evening - now mush."

Alex could only mouth a sorry as Sam slide off his stool back to join the lads; he didn't look put out though, only amused. It was rather irritating, truth to be told. Gene didn't need an invitation and took to Sam's seat, throwing a note on the table and proceeding to glug down half his pint; Alex could only watch him, wondering if - and secretly hoping - he'd received the third degree from his mother.

"How was your mum?"

She hid the smile as he pouted before finishing the rest of his beer. "She mostly gave me an earful - no thanks to you."

She shrugged innocently, playing with the stem of her wine glass. "I was nothing but complimentary."

"Bollocks."

"And your wife?" She couldn't help but ask; she knew she shouldn't, but when had that ever stopped her. "She didn't seem too pleased on the phone."

"She's never too pleased these days." Gene muttered, gesturing to Nelson for another, turning his attention to his whiskey. "You got no opinion on that, no perspective?" He asked drily.

"None whatsoever." She assured him. "Your marriage, your business."

He snorted. Also, bollocks. He supposed he should leave it at that, somehow knowing Bolly not being forthcoming on her opinions would be a rare and wonderful thing, but at this point, he still just enjoyed hearing her talk. "But?"

"If I only know one thing," Alex ventured, deciding it best to be vague, "it's that life's too short." She'd gone to enough funerals and been shot enough times to know that much.

Gene nodded slowly before his gaze rested on her. She hated when he did that. He'd do it when they were alone, her bum plonked on his office desk or at their corner table as Luigi locked up for the night. It always ended up with her blushing, looking away and generally feeling about fifteen. Her mouth went dry as she looked at him, expectantly. "Me mam told me," He sniffed, taking a sudden interest in a bar mat, "- about your daughter. I'm sorry. That why you moved?"

Alex knew what he thought, what Dotty Hunt thought - that her daughter was dead - but until someone point-blank asked her that question, she'd let them all think what they wanted to. Unlike herself, Gene wouldn't pry; this would be the end of it. "More or less. I'm starting to think there's no way back, that it's time to let go." She narrowed her eyes, waiting to be accused of not making sense but he just continued pouting. Some of the stories Sam told about him, some of them didn't seem to fit. Maybe it's because she wasn't one of the boys. "Look at us - nostalgic, again. It must be me."

But like that, he snapped out of it, as he felt for his fags and had a cheeky glance down her cleavage. "Yeah, you do go on, but my ears are willing to take a bashing when my eyes are this satisfied, love."

"You're such a flirt."

He smirked at her exasperated look on her pretty face, lighting up and letting the smoke run rings round her. "Life's too short not to flirt with you, Bolly."

By the next evening, the hangover had left in peace, but the look Gene had given her hadn't. Having changed in the ladies' and making up her face for her date with Jim Davids, it occurred to her - quite embarrassingly - that flirting with the Guv after a long day's work had become second nature to her. That he was married here, well - it had thrown her for a loop. Back in the 1980s, he was always peeking down her top, at her arse, they'd even had a date or two, but he'd never crossed the line. He'd never tried to cop a feel; he'd never even tried to kiss her. And now that Alex knew that he couldn't or, at least, shouldn't - Sam had suggested that Gene hadn't exactly been the most faithful of husbands - cross the line, forced her to confront the fact that she actually wanted him to cross it. She wanted him.

When the shit had hit the fan and Martin Summers had done his worst, worming his way between them, Alex had felt...adrift. Gene had been right on the money. She, too, thought they were ones, that they had a connection. It was unlike anything she'd ever felt before. Putting on her lipstick, she toyed with the idea that she only now wanted what she couldn't have, but she knew that would only be an excuse, a reason to ignore her feelings. She was very good at excuses. He's just a figment of your imagination; he's just a violent thug; he's nothing more than a misogynistic bastard; he only wants a quick shag and nothing more; he's stopping you from getting home. The list was endless - but now there was actually an excuse which stuck. He's married. And after everything Alex had been through with Pete, she couldn't be the hypocrite who went knowingly with a married man.

Even if she was in love with him.

Walking back into C.I.D she knew, objectively, that she looked good. 1970s attire seemed more flattering on her figure and this black jumpsuit was no exception. Almost cut down to her navel, she knew she'd be giving the lads more than an eyeful. But she'd still managed to look very classy, choosing to avoid some of the more garish make-up of the period. Still, as she walked in to wolf whistles and appreciative glances, there was only one man's opinion she really cared about - and he wasn't giving anything away. He just stood by his office door, hands in pockets, eyes unwavering.

"Christ on a bike."

Alex smiled as Chris blushed furiously, realising he'd spoken out loud. "Too much?"

"You're a dead knock-out." Sam said sincerely. God, she loved him - the only man who at least tried to look at her face. "You'll do great. Phyllis wire you up, ok?"

Alex bit a grin as they all let a general groan of disappointment. "Police work just your day job, is it Ma'am?"

She turned to Ray, as he made no effort to stop looking her up and down, both of them still yet to find a common ground after yesterday's argument. "Of course, Carling - gone 10 o'clock at night, I work the streets praying a dirty old punter like you doesn't start crawling the curb." Even Sam grinned at that one.

Finally, she gave the Guv her attention and prayed she wasn't blushing. She raised an eyebrow; what do you think, then?

Gene stepped forward, but said nothing, clapping his hand on Chris' shoulder. "Put your tongue back in your gob, Christopher, and hand me the lady's coat." Chris obliged; the Guv looked at them all expectantly before eventually scowling. "Go get in the cars then, we haven't got all evenin'!"

Watching them all shuffle out with Sam slow to follow - a smug smirk on his face-, Alex felt distinctly awkward being left alone with Gene. It wasn't a familiar experience - denial had made everything so much easier. She bit the inside of her cheek pensively, waiting for him to say something, but there he was, giving her that look again. Eventually, he broke the moment, holding her coat out open for her. Well, his coat really and his clothes and shoes, it'd all been bought with money he'd lent her.

"I've got your change if you..." She offered quietly, as he helped put her arms into the fur coat.

But he still said nothing, as he put the other arm threw, his hands coming to rest on her shoulders. She turned back to him, smiling nervously at how close they stood. A soft smile tugged at his lips, just for a second. "Worth every penny, Bolly."

And then he was off to his car with the rest of the lads, some of them staking out Luddy's keeping an eye on her, the others off to The Cave to do some snooping. She shook her head, closing her eyes, resignedly, a thank you, Guv dying on her lips. No, now was not the time to realise that she was in love with him.

"I still don't like this."

Sam closed his eyes tiredly to the anxious tapping on the wheel beside him. Parked outside Luddy's back entrance, the Guv had been antsy ever since Alex had gone in with Jim Davids. Pinching his nose tiredly, Sam glanced back to see Chris and Ray snoring from the backseat, newspaper draped over the former's face, a fag hanging from the latter's mouth. "Yeah, I wonder why." He muttered drily.

The Guv turned to him, appraising him. "Jim Davids is a dangerous bastard."

Sam gave his a doubtful look. "Question: would you be this worried if I was the one having dinner with him?"

"'Course I would - I don't want no poofter on my team!"

"She'll be fine." Sam assured him, taking the paper off Chris to have flick through himself. "Hopefully, he'll open up to her, maybe even say something incriminating. All this business with Tom Pooling's in the newspapers at the moment - people are always picking neutral topics of conversation on first dates." He said, gesturing towards page ten where the victim's family could be seen burying him in black and white.

"You would talk about some dead drugged-up kid on a first date?" The Guv asked, dismayed. "A word of warning - never let Cartwright go."

"We don't know he was drugged-up." Sam protested, absentmindedly as he went to the sports pages.

"Not this again," Gene sighed, bored at having to repeat himself to his Inspectors, "- all pointing fingers at the boy."

"She wasn't pointing..." He trailed off, knowing there was no point. "Is this because you and his mum used to be lovers?"

"Lovers?" The Guv repeated, as if he'd never heard the world before. "A five-fingered shuffle does not a lover make, son." Sam raised a sceptical eyebrow, knowing the Guv cared about the case. "Look, Gloria's had a tough time of it. First her husband dies, now Tommy - she's been having money troubles, that's why she's living with her sister."

"Money troubles? But they had the funeral today."

"What? Yes, I know - coroner let him go, we had all your much-loved evidence that we needed from the body."

"No, not that," Sam sighed in frustration, flipping the paper back to page ten and holding it out for the Guv, " - look, that's why it was in the paper again, 'cause of the funeral."

"And?"

He shook the paper excitedly. "A horse-drawn hearse, a rolls for his nearest and dearest - where would they get the money for that Guv?"

Gene clucked his tongue, looking between the paper and Tyler, realising stuff wasn't beginning to add up. And, even more annoyingly, Drake might have had a good reason for dragging Gloria in. "Shit." He cursed, turning on the engine, tearing the paper off Sam and throwing it back on to Chris and Ray. "Oi, Peters and Lee, rise and shine!" He bellowed, not waiting for them to really come to. "Out! Now!"

"Guv?" Chris asked, clearing his throat.

Sam passed them back the radio hooked up to Alex's wire. "Get in the squad van, keep listening to her transmission, and radio if there's a problem."

Ray nodded, dazed but accepting enough. "Where you going, Guv?"

"To see if old Gloria's up to a repeat performance."

By dessert, Alex could easily see how Jim Davids had got to where he was. He had an unassuming charm and natural way with people that was persuasive and attractive. All-in-all, she thought wryly, this date would be considered a success, if it weren't for the whole trying-to-pin-him-for-being-a-murdering-bastard part of the evening. But so far, her subtle prompting hadn't got her very far - nor had his. Both were trying to avoid saying too much, but surprisingly it hadn't stilted conversation. Apparently, The Cave was the only place to end a night, or so he had said on Monday; on home turf, she hoped he'd be more inclined to drop his guard down.

"So, you from London?"

She looked up, smiling from her tiramisu. "Born and bred."

Alex blushed appropriately as his gaze raked over her appreciatively. He wanted to get in her knickers - that much was obvious - but she doubted the Guv would want her taking it that far to secure a confession. "I've always wanted to go out with someone posh." He grinned.

"Is that why I'm the lucky lady tonight, then?" She grinned back, swallowing as his gaze didn't waver. "Nice pick on the restaurant, lovely ambiance."

Still, he stared at her. For the first time, she wondered if it wasn't entirely - "What is it you said you did for a living?"

She blinked, her train of thought interrupted. "I didn't, but I'm an air hostess."

"Just when I thought you couldn't get any more glamorous." He smiled, charming again, filling up her glass. "Champers?"

"Manchester's certainly more glamorous than I originally thought." She said, trying to link something in, find out something. "You read about all the crime in the North and it's puts you off - people need to come for themselves, see what it's really like." She admitted to him, taking a gulp of champagne.

"You thought there was a lot of crime?"

He asked it conversationally enough, but she wasn't sure it was enough to jump on. Sod it. "Silly southerner that I am, yes I did. Take all those muggings happening in Oakwood Park and that Pooling boy, but I suppose it can't be any worse than London, not really." She didn't hesitate over the words, kept it smooth, kept it going; they'd been talking for a couple of hours, he shouldn't suspect anything.

He snorted, pouring himself some more champagne. "Probably not the London you're used to, though."

"No." She admitted again; to get something back, you had to give something away.

"Well, I'll have to get you acquainted with the real Manchester, won't I?" Again, he was giving her an unsettling look, but she just drunk from her glass. He sniffed, leaning forward. "Mate of mine owns this place, I'll have to show you the view for upstairs."

From upstairs? On the roof? Alex wracked her brain, confused. She didn't know he had connections to Luddy's; her eyes drifted over to one of the waiters, watching him as he walked past. He did all his business on the roof, that's what that bartender had said. Shit, wrong roof. "I thought we'd be going to The Cave, after." She kept her face blank, innocent - but why did she have the distinct feeling that she was in over her head?

He was giving her that look again.

"Change of plans, love."

"I can't believe you're doing this Gene, I buried my son today!" Gene's eyes fluttered shut at the shrill tone. "Don't you have any respect!"

Sam checked his watch impatiently, watching nosy neighbours wrap up leftovers from the wake. He sighed as the Guv stepped forward off the mantelpiece, chest puffed out. So much for the agreed softly softly approach, then. "I have respect, love, but I've got a police officer with her neck on the line for you, so I need you to be honest with me!"

"Her neck?" Gloria asked, incredulously looking between the two "- you don't mean that gobby tart who was hounding me yesterday?"

You mean DI Drake, Sam opened his mouth to say, but the Guv beat him to it."The very one."

"Why are you doing this?" Gloria asked, looking at Gene imploringly, "I thought you weren't like the others-"

"Others?" Sam frowned.

"Coppers," She near spat, "you're all bastards - wouldn't leave my poor Tommy alone."

"Yeah," Gene stepped forward, his voice low, "and you know why."

Gloria blinked furiously. "He was a junkie-"

"He was a dealer!" The Guv roared, having had enough of this shit and ignoring Tyler's glares for not having said anything sooner.

"How did you pay for the funeral and this wake, Gloria?" Sam asked, bringing the conversation back on track.

"Piss off." She spat.

But the Guv wasn't having any of it anymore. "Answer the man's question!"

"Mr. Davids helped us out." She admitted defiantly, trying not to flinch under Gene's glare. Sam's eyes widened at the implications. "Tommy did some shifts down his old place, was gonna do some more down The Cave. He's always cared about Tommy, always said hello if you passed him."

"Jim Davids," The Guv corrected her, clenching his teeth, "is the reason your son is dead."

"My son was doing fine until your lot convinced him to be a Judas!"

"A Judas?!" Gene scoffed, looking at her like she'd lost her mind, "- you mean do the right bloody thing!"

"I don't care about what's right - all I cared about was my son!" Gloria almost shrieked, sobbing. "So many messed-up ways to die in this city and Davids protected him, never let anyone cross him - and then coppers keep at him and at him, saying you could protect him too, protect him better, if only he'd help you blow the whistle on Davids' drug racket!" She scoffed. "Only you can't protect no one for shit, can you Gene?!"

"Blow the whistle..." Sam said, as his mind fought to catch up "- what division was in charge of that? Why didn't anyone tell us this?"

"'Cause I told them where to shove it when they wanted to take over Pooling's case." Gene grimaced, before glowering at Gloria a final time. "What the bloody hell have you been telling Davids?"

"To look out for you tossers."

"I think you'll find you're the tosser, Gloria," Gene grinned humourlessly. "Your couch, 1949, best moment of my life up 'til then."

In hindsight, Alex should have avoided going on to the roof. She should have coaxed him to stay on the ground level where there were lots of diners and back-up could get to her quickly. On the roof? Not a good plan.

But she'd been so determined to get on with things, to quickly prove to Gene - this Gene, here, who didn't have a clue who she was - that she was a good copper, a brilliant copper, not just some dozy tart or a bit of skirt distracting the lads from doing real police work. 1982 had ended with the Guv having lost faith in her and Alex wanted that faith back desperately. Which is why she decided to have Davids ask her out, which is why she was wearing a wire and was trying to get a confession, even though there was no likelihood of that ever happening.

She should have gone by the long road - pushed Gloria for more answers, investigated Davids more thoroughly. She should be amassing evidence and putting a case together, not pushing for a quick collar to impress the Guv and gain his trust. Even if his hunch was right, more digging needed to be done before she waded in, flirting with the main suspect in order to get what she wanted.

And his hunch was right, Alex thought grimly, as she pulled her fur coat tighter around her and looked anxiously down on the roads below. She didn't like to think why he brought her up here. No one will hear me if I scream.

"It's a beautiful night."

Alex smiled; even though she was sure he smelt a rat, she couldn't give her hand away.

"Beautiful night for a beautiful bird, makes sense." He smiled back, coming to rest beside her and look out onto Manchester, lit up like a Christmas tree in the night sky. "D'you know, Alex, I knew you from the moment I saw you - propped up at my bar, there was something in those peepers of yours." She turned to him, raising a curious eyebrow. "Like you knew, that none of this is real, not really. That it doesn't matter what you do in this life - just got to do what's right for you, only way to live."

She peered back out at the view, considering all the double meanings of what he said. Did they all do it on purpose? Who knows, who cares. This world was real enough to her and the only way she knew how to live was by doing her best, by helping people, by being a good copper "I don't believe that. And this is real, real enough for me - it's all I got." She smiled sadly back at him, hoping whatever was controlling this - be it her subconscious or something in the cosmos - took note. Don't let me die here, too. She thought back to the warmth of Gene and the Railways Arms. "Life's too short to think any differently."

"Oh, life's too short, alright." Jim agreed, sniffing dismissively and stepping back away from the edge. "Look at Pooling's mam, she knows I'm not squeaky clean, knows I might even be involved in why her boy's dead but all she wants is for someone to care, and I can do that." Alex turned to him, cautiously; with the knowing smile on his face, she knew she'd been caught out. "I don't mind shelling out for the funeral of a boy who needed putting in his place, least I can do. No one else cares so that's what I'm here for." She tried not to flinch as Jim stepped closer, rubbing her arms as if to keep her warm. "I would have cared for you, too, Alex."

"Would have?"

"All coppers are bastards, she says," He grinned slowly, "- bastards and one posh bitch. Not many of those up 'ere."

She raised an eyebrow, ignoring her nerves. They were just dancing around it now. "So, I'm the posh bitch?"

"Well, I had to investigate, didn't I?" He smiled in greeting, as three men stepped from the shadows to rest behind her. Alex decided not to give them her attention, but chose to remain calm. She might be able to take one down with a right hook, but that was about it. They'd soon overpower her. "Didn't look good when I sent the boys after you on Monday, to check you got home alright, just to find out that the Railway Arms is your local boozer."

"Needed a drink." She answered succinctly, again not letting her eyes stray from Jim's as he took out a gun from the back of his trousers and checked it. "Never know when I've had enough."

"I think you've had enough."

"Nice line." She quipped, enjoying the annoyance on his face as she barked a laugh. Well, if he was going to shoot her, she might as well got what she came for. "You use that one on Tom Pooling before you shot his face off?"

But Jim side-stepped it, getting increasingly irritated by her lack of reaction. "A nice-looking bird killed doing a man's job - not good for the GMP, is it?"

"Worse for you, though." She smiled sweetly. "Jim Davids, the cop killer - they'll lock the door and throw away the key."

"Take off your coat." He ordered, finally pointing the gun in her direction. She glanced at it: a Colt Python. Ray had droned on enough about guns for some of it to sink in. Colt Python - they took .357 Magnums, didn't they? She tried to remember what Dr. Death had said, no not Dr. Death - what was the pathologist's name? Everything is significant. She inwardly took a deep breath, willing herself to stay calm, to ignore the gun.

"What for?"

"Take it off." He flicked off the thumb safety, and so she did as asked and threw her coat to the floor. "Now, that."

Alex blinked, the cold winds this high already blowing around her. He has to be joking. "You should have bought me another glass of wine if you wanted a striptease, Jim."

"I won't ask you again."

Bloody men holding guns, always ordering her about. He wanted to what? Get a glimpse of what he was missing before he put a bullet in her? Sorry, Jimbo - you can forget it! "Good!" She snapped, losing her patience and sick of being told what to do. "Do you this scares me, Jim? Being held at gunpoint is very boring - so is being shot, actually." Done that, got the tee-shirt. "So if you're going to shoot me, I wish you'd get on with it."

Jim frowned, his own patience waning. Alex didn't suppose he was used to much backchat - Tom Pooling, like the other teenage dealers who'd threatened to dob him in, had probably been begging for his life and crying for his mother. "Don't push me!" He shouted over the wind, waving the gun angrily.

She shook her head, almost bemused that she'd ever described him as charming; he was losing his appeal fast. "Clothes or no clothes, you're going to kill me and I'd rather have my dignity intact, thank you - because it's Manchester, it's March and it's bloody freezing!" She shouted back at him before laughing at the ridiculousness of it all. "It would have been nice to see how you're planning on pulling it off, though - you can hardly just roll a corpse off a roof." She tried for the confession one last time. "I suppose Tom got a bit of scrubland in the end, did he?"

"God invented the abandoned car park for a reason, love - perfect place for me to finish him." And there it was, even if she was going to die for it. "Hold her down."

Suddenly remembering the men behind her, she pulled her arm away as one went to grab her elbow. "Touch me and I'll break your jaw."

"Defiant to the last." Jim sighed; it really was a pity. They'd had such a lovely date. "A girl to break your heart over."

And then it all seemed to slow down, the three men went to circle round her and Jim's finger itched over the trigger. Not again. She sighed inwardly: life was too short not to fight for it. Socking the men to left in the jaw, she felt another grab her from behind.

Then, Alex heard shouts and a roar, as men in camel and leather seemed to rush from the sides. Elbowing the man in the gut, she almost laughed with relief to see Ray, Sam and even Chris hold their own against Jim's lapdogs.

Well, almost laughed before someone tugged on her, dragging her backwards to his chest. She swallowed; she could feel the cool metal of the gun to her temple. And then the Guv came into view, gun trained on the pair of them, like he was bloody Gary Cooper, as Jim dragged he and Alex to the roof's edge.

"Let her go, Jimmyboy."

A black coat, that Irish bitch mouthing off - it was all starting to look very familiar. But God, she hoped the same pattern wouldn't hold true. She tried not to gasp, as Jim's fingers dug into her waist, the fear radiating off of him.

"Sneaky bastard!" Jim spat. "Throwing a woman at me - this isn't how you lot do things!" She flinched, the gun pushing further on her skull. This whole operation wasn't the Gene Genie's style and Davids felt he'd been had, been taken for a mug. A risky way of catching a murder - but would it pay off before he murdered again?

"Never let it be said I can't move on with the times," Gene quipped, coming forward as Jim kept stumbling back, "- now let her go before I put a bullet in your head like you did Tommy's."

"Gene!" Alex gasped, her eyes begging him to tread carefully.

"Someone has to push this stuff Hunt," Jim insisted, his expression growing more desperate as the others finished knocking out his men and cuffing them, "someone has to make a profit - might as well be me!"

Alex's eyes were on Gene; she could see him weighing it up, worried he was going to shoot her. "If you shoot me again and I end up in 1966, I will never forgive you."

"Good year, that." Gene glared at Bolly to shut up. Bloody woman. "Won the world cup - long overdue."

"Guv..." Sam warned, as he sensed Jim coming to a decision.

Alex gasped, squeezing her eyes shut and dropping to the ground as she heard the gunshot. For a moment, she wasn't sure who'd done the shooting. If it had been Jim and she had a bullet in her head. Or Gene had buggered up again and she had one in the gut.

But taking a deep breath, Alex forced her eyes open, squinting as she saw Sam rush to her aid, smiling with relief as he helped her up. Coming to her feet, she watched the Guv stroll up beside her, holstering his gun to peer over the edge. She followed his gaze; there lay Jim Davids, on the road, pedestrians already screaming around him, a body of broken bones.

The Guv glanced at Bolly admiringly."A girl to break your neck over."

"Did you get him, Guv?!" Ray asked, somewhat breathlessly as he and Chris ran up to peer over too.

Alex sighed; it wasn't the best outcome."I'd rather have arrested him."

"Not my bloody fault!" Gene defended, as she gave him a look. "He threw himself off to avoid the bullet - pillock!"

"D'you think he meant to do that?" Chris asked leaning further over; Sam pulled him back. Better safe than sorry.

Alex did laugh then, a whole night's tension running away with it. She lived to fight another day, at least in this world and that'd do. She smiled in thanks to Chris and Ray as they walked off to explain the situation to uniform who were bounding in. Smile still on her face, she looked back at the Guv. "You didn't shoot me."

If he was insulted by her surprise, Gene didn't show it. "Self-control, Bolly. But I can't say I wasn't tempted."

"How did you know I'd be here?" Alex asked, still amazed that they'd got to her in time.

The Guv sniffed, passing Bolly her coat. "A waiter is rather chatty when you've got his face hovering over a hot stove."

Alex narrowed her eyes, knowing there was more; it didn't explain why they ran in knowing there'd be a problem. Davids could have been showing her the view, for all they knew. "Gloria Pooling said that she'd been speaking to him," Sam supplied, giving the Guv a not particularly apologetic glance, "that she'd told him that you were a copper."

The Guv rolled his eyes as the smug look settled on his new Inspector's face. "You talked to her, then?"

"Need I remind you, I just saved your life?" He complained, again - he could see a lot of complaining in his future.

Surprisingly, Alex took the hint and held up her hands, dropping it. He'd managed not to shoot her. A definite win. Then, there was that appraising look from him again. She sighed. "What?"

He pouted thoughtfully, before coming to a conclusion. "You're a tough old bird, I'll give you that-"

"Little less of the old, thank you." But he went on, ignoring her.

"-Looks like you're here for the long haul, Inspector."

Alex looked up at that. The long haul. Whether that was a good or bad thing, only time would tell. But for now, it would do. She'd proven herself to him this evening - how, she didn't know, - but whatever she'd done, it was enough to get his begrudging respect . Maybe they were the ones, after all. "It appears so." She smiled gently, supposing one good turn deserved another. "Thanks, Guv - for coming to my rescue."

Gene grinned to see her smile turn into a grimace. He doubted she liked being rescued much, but if the job had to fall to one poor bastard in this city, the Guv was glad it was him. Maybe.

"Pleasure's all mine, Bollykecks."

By the time they'd got back to the station and she'd showered - the facilities at Sam's leaving a lot to be desired - exhaustion was starting to set in. It had been a long bloody day. The day hadn't ended in a collar, but at least they wouldn't have to worry about Jim Davids anymore. No doubt they'd be some enterprising bastard quick to take his place. But for now, a lumpy bed and a dreamless sleep awaited her.

Walking down the station steps, she breathed in the cold air and tried to clear her head. It smelt like it was going to rain. She came to a stop as she heard a now familiar voice call her name.

Sam: she wasn't sure how she ever coped without him.

"I'm surprised the Guv didn't offer you a lift home." He smiled, hands in pockets against the biting chill.

"He did," She smiled back, knowing he was worried about her, "but I thought I'd walk, clear the cobwebs."

"Don't be silly," Sam admonished gently, " - this time of night, not a good idea, even if you have cheated death today." He joked. "Two days in and you've already been shot at. Impressive stuff."

And what a two days they'd been. She took another breath, glad to be breathing and feeling very tired. The Guv was right; she was in it for the long haul.

"Two days in," She repeated, her tongue hitting the roof of her mouth, "- and not a peep. Silence."

He sighed at her dejected expression. "Give it-"

"Time." Alex shook her head, resigned, accepting. It's time to let go. "I don't have any more time, Sam." He frowned as she showed him her watch. "9:06, on the dot." It didn't make sense to him, but somehow it did to her. "I'm like you now, in every way. I'm dead there, too."

Sam wanted to say something reassuring. He sensed that, despite everything, she'd give everything to go back to their world, but it didn't matter. It wasn't his world, not anymore - and he doubted it was hers anymore either.

He nodded slowly. "...yeah, yeah, I think you might be."

Her breath hitched as a thousand emotions assaulted her. Part of her heartbroken, part of her relieved, part of her desperate, part of her angry, part of her happy that it was over. Part of her left with a little girl, who was sitting in a hospital waiting room, crying in the arms of her godfather.

Molly.

"My baby..."

Sam sighed, bringing his arms around her as Alex started to cry her heart out. "Hey, hey - come on now, she's safe and you're needed here," He brought her back, cupping her face, "you'll be alright, we're in this together you and I-"

"And there was me thinking it was you and I in it together."

Alex and Sam turned in surprise at the other voice. Sam dropped his hands and went to smile, so pleased to her, but frowned as he took in her expression, realising what she must be thinking.

"Annie, she's just..." He glanced at Alex apologetically, but looked back only to see his fiancée walking away. "Annie, wait!" Sam went to follow, but cursed, not wanting to leave Alex in such a state. "Shit. Sorry, I have to..."

"Go, go to her." Alex told him, wiping away the tears from her face. He wavered, but she smiled encouragingly. The smile only crumbled as he run after Annie.

Annie Cartwright - not the best of introductions, Alex thought wryly, coming to sit on a step before she could face the walk home. And on that step, she let herself cry for herself, for her old life in 2008, for Evan having to pay twice for the same mistake, for him having to comfort another little girl, for all the years stolen from she and her daughter, even for the years stolen from she and her mother. But most of all, she cried for Molly - and prayed to anyone out there listening that her baby would be loved and happy.

And then, when she was ready, Alex picked herself up and went home.

TBC...

Alone Again (Naturally): Gilbert O'Sullivan

So, that's the first chapter, hope you managed to get through it - please, please review! The song title at the end is just what I imagine it ending to, because the music of the shows is half the fun, hope you enjoyed it!