It was her turn to look after him. A girl had died in his arms and she couldn't imagine what he must be feeling. She knew he must be in shock, hell, he'd even let her drive the Quattro back to the station. Calmly and rationally, she'd told him they'd need his bloodied shirt as evidence and asked him to hand over his keys and he hadn't objected, not once. It was strange to see him in such a state, after all, he normally appeared so indestructible. The drive was silent and she hoped he knew she was there for him. Quietly, she'd taken his hand and led him into the office, pulled Ray's chair out from behind his desk and eased Gene's shaky body into it.

"Wait here," she said softly and he'd obeyed. Pouring them both a generous measure of whiskey, she handed him one of the glasses before hauling her own chair out from behind her desk and sitting opposite him. After a long silence, she couldn't bear to see him this way anymore so she decided to speak.

"Why am I here?" she mused aloud.

"Same reason as me. To keep the streets clean and to find this girl's killer."

They were silent for what felt like hours and hours. There was only the soft, muted light from his office, the whiskey in the glasses and the glances they kept sneaking at each other before they realised the other had noticed and they'd both look away quickly, blushing.

Alex had never seen Gene look so sad, so vulnerable, so lost. Knocking back the rest of the scotch in her glass, she placed the tumbler on her desk and, barely noticed by him, she knelt by his chair.

"Hey." Part of her wondered how he'd react but at that moment, she didn't care. She wrapped her arms around him, needing him to know she was here for him, like he'd been there for her so many times in the past. Just holding him, she found herself losing track of time as she finally felt him relax into her touch, despite his heart hammering in his chest. Much as she wanted to, they couldn't stay this way forever. Besides, her back and her knees were killing her from the awkward position she'd managed to get herself into.

"Come on," she said, giving him a final squeeze. "Let's get this shirt bagged as evidence, and then get some sleep, yeah?"

Gene nodded. He was exhausted. He followed her into his office and let her look after him, once again. After finding a clean shirt in his drawer, and with shaky fingers, breathing in little, unsteady puffs, she unbuttoned the blood-splattered shirt and replaced it with the clean one. He couldn't take his eyes off her.

With the blood removed, no longer sticking to his skin, he felt rejuvenated.

"Thanks, Bolls." He forced a smile. "Bed?"

"Yes... bed." Suddenly she felt shattered.

"Drive you home?" He gestured for his car keys. What was he thinking? All of a sudden he felt embarrassed. Going soft on her, letting her drive the Quattro for God's sake! Of course, he wasn't going to let her walk home alone at four a.m. even if it was only five hundred yards down the road. He'd never forgive himself if anything happened to her.

She nodded and gave him a weak, watery-eyed smile. "I'd like that."

888888

He was always saving her. The next day was no exception. Why had he let her go off by herself? She looked dead when he finally found her, hooked up to what seemed like an IV sedative. Why would someone want to dope her? To hurt her? Okay, so often he'd wished she'd just shut up but even he wouldn't resort to such drastic measures. What was it about her attracting nutters anyway?

"Alex. Alex. Wake up. Alex, wake up! Come on, wake up. Alex, wake up. Wake up, Alex! Come on!" He was starting to panic now.

"Am I dead?"

He exhaled, a long shaky breath, relieved. "Not unless I'm St. Peter. And I find that highly unlikely, don't you?" Breathing hard and frightened, but trying not to show it, he glanced at the hypodermic needle in her arm. He was he supposed to get that out? He couldn't bear the thought of hurting her and it looked buried deep in her vein.

She was drifting off again. He needed to do something and fast. What was that shit medical programme she'd made him watch once? Maybe more than once. And maybe he'd enjoyed it. 'St. Elmo?' No... 'St. Elsewhere!' How did they take out IV's in that? Shit, he was losing her; he needed to do something, quickly.

Gingerly, he removed the plaster holding the drip in place and slowly pulled out the line with shaking hands. He couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief when he saw the needle was still attached. Good. It was only then he realised how fast he was breathing, reassured when he saw her begin to stir. Leaning his forehead against hers, he whispered,

"Good girl. That's my girl."

Dropping the smallest of kisses into her hair (something he'd never do while she was fully-conscious, after all he still feared her left hook and her unpredictable hormones,) he picked her up, much the same as he had the first day she'd breezed into his life. Hurricane Alex, shaking him up like a snow globe.

"Gene?" Her voice sounded tiny and terrified. She was clearly still drugged and scared.

"I've got you, Bolls," he reassured her, taking her quickly up the stairs and to the Quattro.

"Don't let go," she said, before passing out again and burying her head in his shoulder.

"I won't, I won't let go, love," he promised as he gently lay her in the passenger seat of the car. Realising she felt freezing cold to his touch, he shrugged off his coat and laid it over her, noticing even in sleep her fingers still curled into the material, seeking his warmth.

She was still out cold when they arrived back at her flat. Even now, Gene felt petrified as he moved her upstairs and used his spare key to let them in. He lay her tenderly on the sofa and busied himself finding a blanket to wrap her up in. She still felt so cold. Sitting beside her prone body, at a loss for what to do, he calmly stroked her hair, willing her to open her eyes. It was a gesture so gentle he'd normally never let her see it.

"Wake up, Alex," he whispered in her ear. He'd been doing that a lot more recently: calling her Alex. He was thankful beyond words when she finally moved. Her eyes flew open and she stared at him, blinking and confused. Almost embarrassed, he busied himself fetching her a glass of water as she pushed the blanket off her, willing herself awake.

"What happened?" she asked, gratefully accepting the water.

"What do you remember?"

She shrugged.

"Doesn't matter then does it, Bolls?" he sniffed. She didn't need to know she'd been drugged and left for dead.

"But you saved me?"

"But I saved you," he confirmed. Playing field levelled after last night, then.

888888

She looked wobbly. Even Ray and Chris had noticed. As Kevin Hales was driven off in the back of a police car, Gene watched Alex stumble over to some nearby bushes and promptly throw up in them. Ray rolled his eyes and Chris looked unsure of himself but Gene was by her side in seconds.

"Go away!" she shouted, batting his hands away with her arm when he tried to comfort her, breathing hard and embarrassed.

"No, I won't go away, no matter how gross you are right now," he hissed, on his knees and beside her. "I told you not to come with me, that you weren't fit."

She didn't really have an answer for that. Rocking back on her heels and wiping her stinging eyes, she asked, "What happened, Gene?"

He sighed. "You got knocked out, Alex. Drugged. When I... when I saw you, I thought... I thought you were dead, okay?" Taking a deep, shaky breath, he continued, "You have to stop running off by yourself. I can't be a DCI when I'm worrying about where my DI is all the time. If she's hurt or... worse. You'll give me a bloody heart attack, Bolls!" He tried to grin, tried to mask the fear he'd felt but she could read him like a book.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I'll be less selfish... maybe I can try to involve Chris in a few more things or something?"

"Or something." He smiled, glad they'd come to an understanding. He took her hand and pulled her to her feet as they walked back to the Quattro side by side, so close their arms were nearly touching.

"Okay, pay up." Ray gestured to Terry and Poirot as he loaded a stolen TV into the boot.

"Pay up?" Gene snarled. "What have you bastards been betting on now?"

"How long it'd take you to knock up Drake. That's what the sickness was about, right ma'am?"

Gene had blushed so bright red, he was nearly purple.

Alex tried and failed to suppress a giggle as he launched into a tirade defending her honour. It was almost gallant. Almost.

888888

Despite her protests that she was fine, Gene drove her home. He insisted on walking her to the front door and then he looked torn: should be return to the station and tear strips out of Kevin Hales or stay and take care of her, make sure she was safe?

Reluctantly he realised his team needed their DCI right now. "I'll be back later. Take care of yourself, Bolls."

"You don't have to..."

"I'll be back later," he promised, leaving her at the door with a little smile on his face.

When he arrived back, hours later, he found her tense, trembling and panicking. He felt useless, showing up obviously far too late with his Atari, 'Space Invaders' and a bottle of German white wine.

"Bolls?" he said as she hugged him fiercely, as if her life depended on it. He tried to peel her off, thinking she must have gone mad. "What's the matter?"

When she drew back he noticed the blood red rose in her hand.

"It's nothing," she said, seeing him look at the flower and snapping the stem in two and discarding the parts in the bin.

He wasn't going to push it any further, not tonight.

"I don't suppose you ate like I told you to? Course you didn't." He gently, but firmly took her by the shoulders and sat her down on the sofa. "*Rest* okay, Alex? God knows what that nutter pumped into your system earlier. Tea 'n' toast, that's what you need, Bolly, that and a good kip."

"Yes Guv." A smile ghosted across her lips.

He liked this. Not that she'd been drugged and was clearly under the weather because of it but... this. He actually liked taking care of her. He found jam and butter that was just about passable in her fridge and busied himself fixing her toast. He took two slices to her and watched her eat in silence.

"Good." He nodded his approval as she finished her food. "Not leaving you tonight, Bolls." His tone plainly told her it wasn't up for discussion. "Not with a psycho on the loose after you." Maybe there was still some residual guilt there.

She didn't have the strength to argue, nor did she want to. It would be nice; she realised, to have someone else in her flat for a change. She tried to push away the thought she could get used to it- if it were Gene, of course. Since when had she been thinking of him like that rather than her boorish, annoying DCI?

"Atari then." She gave him a small, almost shy smile.

"You want to?" he asked, surprised.

"Absolutely. Prepare to be thrashed at 'Space Invaders.'" She'd been obsessed with it when she was younger and was fairly confident she could give him a run for his money.

"Game on, Bolly, game on."

Conversation flowed freely. The video game helped. It was four a.m. and Gene was nearing the final level when he felt the warm weight of Alex's head on his shoulder, her breath warm on his neck.

"Bolls?" He put the joystick down, not caring he was about to be exterminated by aliens... onscreen at least. All he cared about was that Alex was comfortable in that moment. "Come on, bedtime."

He carried her through to the bedroom and she barely stirred, safe in his arms. He eased her body under the duvet, still fully dressed. He didn't think she'd appreciate him taking off her clothes, especially in the morning. He could just imagine the ear bashing. Besides, he didn't want her to get the wrong idea.

"Gene?" she murmured, only half-awake.

"You're alright, love." Once again, he dropped a kiss to her forehead. "Goodnight, Alex. I'll be right outside, promise."