oh oblivion
is calling out your name
you always take it further
than I ever can

She was all deep purple satin, liquid amber eyes and smiling warmth before his eyes, but the version of Alex Drake he could hear in his head at that moment was oh so different.

'Guv… Do you think if I save some lives, that means I'm worth saving?'

There had been a vulnerability in her voice as she had let those words escape down the phone to him, a rawness and an edge of weakness almost entirely new to him. She had sounded…lost, a small child trying to follow a swinging compass needle toward comfort and finding only him at the other end of the line. Watching her over the top of his pint glass, Gene found it hard to believe that self-doubt could linger beneath her beauty, the fierceness of her gaze and that resolute jaw.

His eyes narrowed as he fell not for the first time to the ponderous task of unravelling the mystery of Alex Drake. She seemed brighter tonight, all colour and warmth, and if shadows lurked behind her smile they didn't show, though Gene had seen them before – a sadness in her eyes, the catch of breath in her throat as she spoke sometimes, the slump of her shoulders after a hard case and the tone of her voice whenever she spoke of home. He sighed and drained his glass.

Leaning toward her, he murmured quietly, "Follow me out in a moment, Bols."

Alex frowned slightly but nodded imperceptibly and picked up her own glass again. Smiling at an only half-heard joke from Chris, she took two minutes to finish her drink and slipped away as the rest of the team were laughing wholeheartedly.

She found him leaning against the wall outside, cigarette held between expert fingers as he eyed the glowing embers of its tip, a lazy haze of copper in the crisp night air.

"Guv?"

Gene watched her as she moved to lean back against the railings across from him, arms over her chest to keep off the chill. He could just see her breath, faint white against the blackness whenever she exhaled.

"What you said on the phone, Bols, about being worth saving. What did you mean?"

"Oh." The surprised utterance fell softly from between Alex's lips and she smiled easily. "Doesn't matter. Doesn't matter."

He exhaled smoke as he watched the smile hold tenaciously onto the corners of her lips before falling away, leaving her face bare to him, the look in her eyes betraying the same vulnerability he had heard in her voice, the same edge of weakness and perhaps fear. Was this really the riddle of Alex Drake, the key to the unsolvable mystery behind her skinny jeans and leather jacket? She feared oblivion, the abyss of worthlessness, of pointlessness. She feared, above all things, inconsequence?

Smoking in silence a moment longer, Gene watched as she observed the night folding in around them, the orange curtain of the streetlamp and the dome of stars above. Finally, he crushed his cigarette underfoot and took a step towards her. He spoke gently.

"Bols, look at me."

She looked at him, and he saw it then – her fear, exposed in the molten hazel of her eyes, the hesitant parting of her lips.

"Gene, I – "

"What was the first thing I did as that murdering scumbag reached for the trigger?"

Alex blinked, surprised. "You…" The flicker of a smile entered her eyes. "You dove to protect me."

"Exactly, Bols. Do you know why?"

She could feel her heart beat an arpeggio against her ribs and the night air tasted of the twilight chill and cigarette smoke and comfort. She took a sharp breath as he seemed to move closer. "B-because…"

"Because you're worth saving, Alex," he finished for her in a low murmur, honest and sincere.

She smiled at him then, lips curving softly as she felt an affection swell in her chest for this man, for this ridiculous, brash man who despite everything had a talent for seeing through her, for drifting the pieces of herself back together with subtle fingertips whilst he stormed through the rest of the world, a hurricane of justice and force.

Theirs was a wordless dance now, a tangle of blue eyes and brown, forever questioning, always hesitating at the line, daring the other to cross. Alex could almost feel the warmth of his lips close to hers, the dizzying proximity of his body and the intensity of his gaze drawing her closer. They wavered on the borderline, toe to toe and balancing upon a glass precipice too precious to break, and then it was over.

A shout rose up from within Luigi's, a fight breaking out and calls for reinforcements from Luigi, and both Gene and Alex took a step back from each other. She smiled, a little ruefully, and Gene turned with a sigh.

Before he could disappear through the door to separate Ray from whoever had pissed him off this time, Alex called out to him.

"Gene?"

He half-turned back towards her. "Yes, Bols?"

She smiled. "Thank you."

He took a beat, and then: "What, for saving your boney arse once again or for easing your girly fears of a life without purpose?"

And just like that, they were the Guv and Bolly again, but Alex could only laugh and indulge him.

"Both, I suppose."

"Good," Gene said brightly, jerking his head back toward the door. "Now I'll go see to the kids, shall I?"

She watched him go with an affectionate shake of the head and lifted a hand to cover a smile that seemed to want to spread just a little too wide across her face. Still smiling, she made her way to bed with the barely-there taste of smoke still teasing the tip of her tongue.

S2E3 has never been a particularly standout episode for me Galex-wise, but this just came to me upon rewatching it today. Please let me know your thoughts!

Eleanor :)

~ I, of course, don't own Ashes to Ashes or the Bastille lyrics at the top.