*SPOILERS FOR 3.07*

Disclaimer: I do not own Ashes to Ashes (or, unfortunately, Gene Hunt). Title comes from How to Save a Life by The Fray.

Characters: Alex, Gene, Alex/Gene, brief mentions of Keats

Summary: 'As he turned away from her to go, she glanced at her hand, where before her fingers had curled in his and his thumb had dusted over her knuckles. Now it just felt empty.' Alternative ending for 3x07.

Between the Lines of Fear and Blame

"Be careful, Alex. Be very careful."

Keats' warning echoes on her ears long after she had closed the door on him. The bunch of photos was a lead weight in her hands, already slightly crumpled as she resisted the urge to hurl them away from her. She crossed the room, scarcely breathing, flicking between the photos with her eyes and with her hands while her brain worked faster, trying to find some semblance of comprehension. There was Sam, with Annie, she presumed, although she'd yet to see a picture of the woman to know for certain, and then the house, a body found on waste farmland, the weathervane and the ghost of the policeman and I think we've found our grave. She sat down heavily onto a dining chair, dropping the photos onto the table and sinking her head into her hands. Her breathing was shallow – shallower even that it became whenever Keats' stifling presence was around, or than it had been mere minutes (was it really only that long?) since she had felt Gene's lips press against her forehead, and had turned up her face to meet his...

A hand reached out to take the photos and she looked up, the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach still there. His face was unreadable as he glanced over the pictures, then he put them back on the table, face-down, and held out his hand to her. She stood, equidistant from him and the photos, as the last few bars of True faded into silence and the next track on the cassette. Ignorant of the music, Alex looked directly into Gene's eyes, town between resuming the dance, and finding out the truth.

She hesitated too long and Gene let his arm fall back to his side. As he turned away from her to go, she glanced at her hand, where before her fingers had curled in his and his thumb had dusted over her knuckles. Now it just felt empty.

Gene put his hand out to the cold metal of the door-handle, but her soft touch on his arm stopped him from turning it. He turned, and she caught the briefest flash of hurt in his eyes before he beat it down.

"Gene," she began gently, but he interrupted her.

"Bolly, I promise you, I can explain about-"

"Shh," she hushed him with the faintest of a whisper. "I trust you."

"But-"

"Shh..."

She pressed a feather-light finger to his lips, and then, more firmly, slipped her hand up to his neck, pulled his lips down to meet hers, and led him back into the flat.

I know it's short, but comments would be greatly appreciated. Thanks for reading xxx