For the Smutresses- you know who you are!

I do not own Ashes or Gene and Alex. Mattley , Kudos, Monastic and Auntie Beeb do.

Reviews would be lovely. Thanks!

A Bird in the Hand

'I wouldn't shag you if you were the last man on Earth, Hunt!'

As DI Drake spat the words out she punctuated the pronouns with insistent jabs against her superior officer's chest, unconsciously edging closer to him. An electric silence coursed between them as their eyes glared into the others', all the time searching for a weakness and trying to ignore the fact that their lips were literally millimetres away from each other. After several moments Gene finally dropped his eyes to the floor and took a step back, kicking his heel on the pavement outside the station in the process, like a naughty schoolboy.

'Even if it was a choice between me 'n' Bernard Manning, Bolls?'

He'd raised his head and cocked it to the side slightly, a cheeky grin lighting its way across his face.

Bastard, Alex thought to herself. Why does he have to be so damn sexy AND funny?

She was sure he existed purely to make her life a misery and yet it was often such sweet torture. Jamming her hands into her jeans pockets and taking a step back herself, she sighed partially to let off steam, partially to prevent herself from giggling like a teenager. If she succumbed to that then he'd won that particular battle, and she wouldn't hear the end of it for hours, perhaps days. It was bad enough he was constantly niggling at her for 'forcing' him to go to the 'Human Rights of the Prisoner' conference they were rapidly becoming late for.

'Gene its 8 am. We've got precisely 4 hours to get to Leeds for this sodding conference. Even with your break-neck driving skills we're going to be spectacularly late, so I suggest we get a move on instead of pissing around at the side of the road...'

To Hunt the thought of spending that long in an enclosed space with Drake was unbearable, especially as he was 99.9% certain that she had 'the decorator's in', and yet...

'Gene' she growled, 'you're not even bloody listening to me, are you?'

'I'm all ears Bolly-Keks...'

'Do you want me to drive? Is that it?' Alex knew what his answer would be before he gave it, but she still went through the motions of holding her hand out, gesturing for the keys. It had the desired effect and spurred him on to take the few steps to the red sports car.

'Nobody drives the Quattro but me Drake!'

'You're the boss!' Alex offered as she ducked into the passenger seat.

'Yes I bloody am Fussy Knickers, and don't you soddin' forget it'

There was a brief silence as Gene put his key in the ignition, and turned thoughtfully to Alex, sniffing the way he always did when he was about to say something either profound or downright outrageous. As he smiled she knew it was going to be the latter and started to roll her eyes even before the words left his lips.

'Besides Bolls... Me gearstick hasn't gotten over last time you man'andled it...'

The moment the words had tripped from his lips he lunged forwards, causing his DI to take a sharp intake of breath as he opened the compartment in front of her and searched for his gloves amongst the numerous hip flasks, maps and empty cigarette packets, all the while 'accidently' brushing his elbow against her ample chest. Alex opened her mouth to speak but thought against it. They'd only just had a row and she didn't want another one to worsen what was already going to be an awkward journey. That aside, if she was completely honest with herself Alex would have admitted that she was enjoying the physical contact a little more than she should be. The closest she'd come to intimacy for months now was having a tussle with troublesome suspects before she could cuff them, and that wasn't exactly her idea of a good time.

'Gotcha!' Gene commented out of the blue causing his DI to jump noticeably and flush lightly as she was torn away from her musings unexpectedly. Had she been caught out? No he's found his gloves for God's sake! Get a grip woman!

Grabbing a bag of barley sugar twists from the dashboard Gene quickly opened the wrapper of one and unceremoniously shoved it in his mouth and turned to offer one to his second-in-command.

'Somethin' to suck on for the journey Drake?'

At that precise moment Alex wished the Earth would swallow her whole. She could feel the blood rising steadily and rapidly from her chest to her cheeks. Her mouth opened, but no words came out. Gene knew he'd bested her and chalked another mental mark on his side of the board marked Hunt versus Bollinger Knickers.

'Here' he dropped the bag on her lap, 'We haven't got all flippin' day while you decide whether my confectionary is up t' your hoighty-flaming-toighty standards!'

As the car engine roared to life and the wheels began to run along the tarmac, both of them came to the conclusion that it would be an interesting twenty-four hours.

Alex sat at the hotel dressing table, pulling one of her stockings up her foot and slowly along her legs, careful not to make the ladder at the ankle any worse than it already was. She knew full well he was laid there reviewing the sight before him from the vantage point of the bed. Looking into the mirror the DI could see him, the man she'd fantasised about for so long, arms folded behind his head and propped up against a pillow looking thoroughly pleased with himself as he tracked her movement with those steely blue eyes and licked his lips unconsciously. A few stray strands of dirty blonde hair had fallen onto his forehead, making him look utterly relaxed and utterly gorgeous.

A moment of doubt flashed through her mind, 'Could this really have happened?' The dull ache between her legs certainly seemed to verify it, as did the slight pain in her hips where he'd hung onto her for grim death at the 'crucial moment', whilst she'd sat astride him and found her own ecstasy almost simultaneously. This really could make things a lot more complicated. All those months, years even, of sniping, of longing, of skirting round each other and finally they'd given in, and boy had they given in... Alex suppressed the urge to grin like the cat that had got the cream when hazel finally met blue in the mirror.

'See something you like Mr Hunt?' She allowed a wry smile to creep to the edges of her mouth.

'I preferred it when I was taking them off ya, Bolls.'

And there it was, the Manc Lion's pout: his trademark. Alex had lost count of the number of times she'd focused on it when he'd pissed her off during a case and then totally lost the thread of her conversation, imagining whether the kiss would be gentle or fierce. Now she knew he was capable of both. Gene Hunt: the epitome of a living, walking, breathing contradiction. She yawned deeply as she went to pick something up off the floor.

'What's up Drakey? Are you all shagged out? Thought Lady Bolls would 'ave a bit more stamina than that...', he asked with a self-satisfied look creeping across his still flushed face. To his surprise she wasn't amused and appeared to be holding up a black scrap of material.

'Look what you've done to my knickers! How the hell am I supposed to walk half way round the hotel back to my room when you've shredded half my bloody clothes?'

Gene rolled his eyes. Why did he expect her to be any different after they'd had sex? Nag, nag, flaming nag. There was a definite anger in her eyes, and if he was honest it was more than a bit of a turn-on. Shit! The lion cub was stirring again.

'Do you have any idea how much these things cost?'

'Quite frankly love, I couldn't give a flying donkey's arse how much they cost? Knowing the price of silly knickers isn't exactly one of my priorities!'

He'd adjusted himself and was now sat bolt upright in bed. If she wanted an argument he was ready for it. If she was just gearing up for something else not-so-little Genie was ready for that too.

'I wouldn't expect you to appreciate this sort of thing', Alex spat out much more venomously than she had originally intended. Now she'd gone too far and the knives were well and truly about to be drawn.

'Oh so that's what this all is about eh?... You're ashamed that you've shagged someone who isn't up to your sodding standard limp-pricked lawyers and now you're giving me the brush-off eh?'

This was rapidly getting out of hand. Just calm the situation down Alex

'Gene I didn't mean...'

'You weren't exactly telling me to remove them gently an hour ago were you, sweetheart?' He breathed out an incredulous laugh and began to mimic her, 'Oh Gene I need you!... Oh God I need you now...'

She could tell he was pissed off and maybe rightly so, they were after all arguing over an article of underwear, but now he was mocking her and it hurt much more than it usually did. They'd just been closer than they'd ever been before, not just in terms of proximity, but emotionally too and now they were already falling back into their usual pattern.

'You complete bastard!... Why the hell did I think you'd be any different?'

She quickly began to pull her skirt over her hips, her hands fumbling with a mixture of anger and humiliation. He'd opened his stupid Manc trap and upset her now. Well done Gene! There goes your one and only chance to have something meaningful with the woman you've been fantasising about for God knows how long.' Did he want something meaningful? Yes. That was the problem.

'Look Alex...'

'I think it's better if we go back to having a purely professional relationship Ge... DCI Hunt... We drank more than we should and let's just put this down to both of us being pissed and get back to normal, shall we?...'

As he looked at her he saw the professional facade returning across her face. Her jaw was set and her eyes were once again staring back at him with the cold stare that had slowly evaporated over the months and years they'd been working together.

'So what you're basically saying is what happens in Leeds, stays in Leeds?'

Alex quickly had to gulp back a giggle. This arsehole was consistently capable of making her hate him vehemently one minute, and then causing her to convulse with laughter so hard it was all she could do not to wet herself the next. An awkward silence engulfed the hotel room as she shakily put her arm in one sleeve of her blouse and then the other, slowly turning away from him to hide her uncertainty and the sudden self-consciousness she felt at her state of undress. Alex leaned on the dressing table to take a deep breath as she closed her eyes and tried to compose herself. This wasn't how she'd planned to end the evening. None of it was. So much for a date with her book and bed...

'If you like. I'm sure you could put it like that', she breathed out exasperated.

'I just did DI Drake.'

Was it just her imagination or did he sound a lot closer than he was before? Suddenly she could feel his breath on her neck, and on opening her eyes she could see her boss was stood right behind her, stark bollock naked, his eyes meeting hers in the reflection. She was meant to be angry, instead she was gazing at what she could see of his broad shoulders, and the arms that were rapidly becoming entwined around her waist.

'Thing is Bolls...'

He stopped momentarily to nuzzle on her neck and make his way up to the back of her ear with his tongue. Her resolve was weakening, as was her ability to stand on her own two feet, a feeling that was greatly added to by the knowledge that something long, hard and warm was digging into her backside through her skirt as this maddeningly sexy man pushed against her during his ministrations. He started again, this time his voice a touch more gravelly,

'Thing is Bolls... I don't want things to go back to normal...' The DI's skirt was being unzipped and nudged back down over her hips, before landing back on the floor for the second time that evening, '...And I'm pretty damn sure you don't either, Little Miss Posh Knickers'.

Her breath catching in the back of her throat, she slowly turned her head and caught his lips in a brief, but fiery embrace, her tongue rolling across his mouth and tasting what was perhaps a mixture of whiskey, cigarettes and maybe even herself. Alex could feel her cheeks growing crimson with the thought of it, and the all too familiar sensation between her thighs, which she had long come to associate with this man, was becoming more insistent. A matter of months ago she'd considered him to be a figment of her imagination. A rather unpleasant one at that. Now with his chest pressing into the back of her and the pulse of his heightened heart rate resounding into her shoulder, she rebuked herself for ever doubting that he was anything but real.

'In case you haven't noticed smart arse I'm not wearing any knickers...'

At that moment Gene had wanted to scream from the rooftops, 'Praise the fucking Lord!', but no, now was the time for playing the game that his minx of a DI was coyly laying down the rules of. His hands snaked downwards over her stomach and yet further down as his thigh abruptly nudged her legs apart. Alex gasped in expectation as she watched his fingers slowly edging southwards, along her hip and then much lower to the inside of her thigh.

Jesus Christ, he's good at this: if he was trying to seduce her it was seriously working.

An audible moan escaped from her mouth as he finally found his target and caressed her soft curls.

'You're right. It would appear Lady Bollinger is knickerless... Well ain't that turn up for the books eh?'

A finger gently parted her folds and achingly slowly examined the evidence of her arousal, causing Alex to throw her head back and rest against Gene's chest.

'It would also appear that the floodgates have opened. What do you have to say to that your ladyship?'

Despite herself she'd begun to grind against his solitary digit.

'Gene please!' In response he lightly tugged the blouse that was still hanging round her from one shoulder and planted a flurry of tantalisingly gentle kisses, from the top of her newly exposed arm to the apex between her neck and shoulder, sending sparks all the way down her body. She shuddered involuntarily.

'Gettin' a little tetchy are we Bolls?'

And still, despite their present situation, he was trying to piss her off.

'This isn't one... one of your sodding interrogations!'

He noticed the desperation in her cut-glass voice and chuckled throatily. He'd often imagined having his DI in palm of his hand, and now she was. Literally. The irony certainly wasn't lost on him.

'Somethin' tells me you wouldn't object to a exhaustive strip search...' Gene finished his sentence and immediately dropped his head back down to her neck, this time kissing her more fiercely, tasting the sweet-saltiness of her skin and inhaling her intoxicating scent, finally finishing his assault with what he thought was a gentle nip. Alex's eyes flung open.

'Gene!' Shit! He hadn't thought he'd bitten down that hard, and yet there was the evidence. Even in the dim light of the hotel room he could see definite teeth marks surrounded by a redness that would almost certainly develop into a bruise by the morning. It'd been years, perhaps decades even, since Gene Hunt had been the perpetrator of such a beauty and he wasn't sure whether to be thoroughly ashamed, or even a little bit pleased with himself. He hadn't intended to mark her, or had he? He'd long since given up trying to fathom his physical reactions towards his undeniably sexy, but eternally annoying DI.

'I thought I was supposed to be DCI Hunt again?'

Her superior officer really did know how to push her buttons in more ways than one, and now her patience was being tested to the limit. She was after all a modern girl and coming when she wanted to was par for the course.

'Besides you've always appreciated how thorough I am with my investigations, 'aven't ya DI Drake?'

Another finger slipped in between her wet folds and gently but firmly caressed her core, forcing her eyebrows skywards and her mouth to part in an 'O' of surprise. Looking down on her face Gene couldn't remember seeing anything so simultaneously erotic and beautiful in his entire life. The thing was Gene Hunt didn't do foreplay. Usually it was a quick snog, knickers down and 'wham, bam thank you Ma'am'. Yet here he was coaxing Alex Drake, the bane of his life, to elicit some of the facial expressions he'd only seen on the likes of Linda Lovelace, and not for the first time that evening either. What was wrong with him? Something told the DCI that her parted lips and the glimpse of her tongue darting over them would be etched on the inside of his lids every time he closed his eyes for weeks and maybe months to come. In fact if it was the last image he saw as he drew his final breath, he suspected he'd be going to his grave with a smile on his face.

A look of concentration found its way across her forehead. She was about to speak and it was obviously taking a great deal of effort to get the words out.

'I've always been a fan of a frig...a rigourous' A deep breath and a furrowing of her brow. '...Investigation Mr Hunt...' Her breathing hitched up a notch as he gradually upped the pace of his ministrations.

'Just as long... as long...'

'Well spit it out Bolls. We haven't got all night,' he lied. They did and he intended to use every precious minute of it. Alex gulped and tried to focus.

'Just as long as... as the officer in charge... is attentive to the n-n-n-needs...'

'N-n-nneeds? Suddenly developed a tick have we Drake?'

Despite her eyes being pursed shut she knew he had a smug smile across his face: it was the tone of his voice. Yet again he was mocking her, the pompous bastard, but she was determined she'd get her words out even if it killed her. Right now, with those impossibly long fingers working between her thighs, that was a distinct possibility.

'...To the needs of the individual under interrogation...'

There she'd said it! Feminism 1. Misogyny 0! Hah..! Oh God football metaphors' He'd rubbed off on her more than she'd care to admit.

'And am I being attentive to your needs Bolls?', he asked seductively as his other 'free' hand began to fondle one of her still encased breasts through the black lacy material, causing the nipple to peak in his fingertips.

'I'd give you a 7 out of 10...' she replied breathlessly.

'Just a 7 eh?...' Gene slipped yet another finger in between her wet folds and began to use his thumb to rub against her clit.

'How about now?' The effect was instantaneous as he felt her whole body stiffen against him. The anti had been well and truly upped.

'Jesus!'

'I'll answer to almost anything, but Gene'll do...'

'Please Gene... I need to... to...' She was practically begging him now for her release.

Appraising her in the mirror once more he could see her forehead creased in concentration, and watched in awe as a bead of perspiration ran down from her neck to the gap between her two full breasts almost as if in slow motion. To him she was beautiful, perfection even, and right now he had the overriding urge to make her see that as plainly he did.

'Open your eyes Alex, love'

'What?' She wasn't sure she'd heard him properly.

'Look in the mirror...'

Alex wasn't at all sure, but seen as he was rapidly propelling her to yet another of the best orgasms she'd had in her life, she felt she owed him the benefit of the doubt. It took a great deal of effort to lift her head from Gene's shoulder and open her heavy eyelids enough to take in the image before her, but once she did she didn't regret it. Her focus was drawn instantly to the reflection of the man who was holding her and wheedling these indescribable sensations from her through his actions. It was his face that betrayed him. Those steely-blue eyes displayed a whole gamut of emotions from lust to vulnerability, even adoration and perhaps still more than that. It was then that she realised how natural it all felt; they looked like they belonged together. Being in his arms felt like being home, something that reassured and frightened her in equal measure.

'You're so fuckin' beautiful Alex...' She could detect the tension in his voice as he whispered it into her ear, and that coupled with his continued attentions became all too much for her. Instinctively she threw her head back against him and uttered numerous expletives that surprised even the wordly copper who had been subjected to the colourful language of Manchester's finest housewives in his time. Alex could most certainly give them a run for their money right now. Her body went limp and spasmed as eventually she fell over the precipice, her wet, hot core pulsing around his digits.

The trouble was it wasn't doing much for Gene's self-control as she bucked against him. He'd managed to focus entirely on her needs but now his body was demanding it's own release. He was determined he wasn't going spill his seed into the base back of her like some randy 15 year old. Alex deserved better than that and come to think of it so did he for having, what he thought was, the patience of a saint as he'd managed reduce his painfully attractive DI from a mass of anger and resentment to a potty-mouthed, jelly-legged wreck in the space of 10 minutes.

Gene waited as long as he could physically manage and then slowly lowered her onto the floor as she came down from the disorientating high, walking away from her and turning his back so he could regain his composure. Absent-mindedly she put her hand up to her neck and rubbed the sore area, instantly feeling the indentations of the teeth marks and wincing slightly at the delicacy of the whole area. Gradually Alex came back to her senses, her breathing returning to a more regular pattern, soon realising that she was sat in a heap on the hotel room floor and feeling instantly bereft of the closeness they'd just had.

'Gene?'

As she turned her body round to locate him she spotted him in the corner of the room, his broad shoulders facing her as they moved up and down with agitated breaths. One hand was against the wall and his head was slung low. Beads of sweat ran down his back.

'You 'eard that saying Bolls... A bird in the 'and is worth two in th' bush?' Finally as he turned she saw the source of his frustration. Alex had half-considered it earlier on when she'd first removed his boxers, but now it was plain to see: Gene Hunt really was bigger in every department.

'Yes', she answered uncertainly, desperately trying to draw her attention away from a certain part of his anatomy. Evan had always taught her it was rude to stare, but still... Christ!

'Well, Bolly No-Knickers,' he grunted impatiently, 'it's a load of bollocks... Now get that bony arse of yours off the floor and onto the bed!'

Alex couldn't help but smile. It would appear it was going to be a long night.