|Rock 'N' Roll Suicide
Author: Eleantris PM
When a small-time rock star is found dead, it seems to be a tragic case of suicide. But when the team dig deeper, they uncover some spine chilling secrets that bring Gene and Alex to question everything, including the burning attraction between them. G&A.Rated: Fiction T - English - Crime/Romance - G. Hunt & A. Drake - Chapters: 43 - Words: 93,359 - Reviews: 402 - Favs: 65 - Follows: 88 - Updated: 04-12-11 - Published: 02-21-10 - Status: Complete - id: 5764848
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
I really can't stay away from this category, can I? I want to thank everyone who has read and reviewed 'Blood Child', I received such a great response for that story and still can't believe it. I hope you'll enjoy the Epilogue when it comes.
Anyway, here's the first chapter for my new Ashes story. It is of course entitled after the David Bowie song 'Rock 'n' Roll Suicide' and is set after Series One but ignores Series Two. Hope you enjoy it and please review!
Disclaimer – I don't own Ashes to Ashes, no matter how many protests I hold. :P
Chapter 1 – A Brand New Case
"Open up, police!"
Alex rolled over, mistaking the heavy, demanding pounding on the door for an incredibly bad headache.
"Bolly! Get yer French knickers t' this door and open it up before I knock it down!"
Alex groaned and ran a weary hand through her newly styled hair with a long yawn. She dragged herself out from the warmth and comfort of her bed and went to the door, pulling a face as the cold air hit her. 1980s heating certainly left a lot to be desired.
Gene waited impatiently as the door opened a crack and a very tired and hung-over looking Alex peered through. "Bloody hell, Bolly! Yer look rough as a badger's arse; now let me in."
Alex scowled at him and turned away from the door, leaving it open for him to make his own way in. "Charming as usual, I see," she said, spinning around to face him.
Gene's eyes wandered appreciatively from her bare feet all the way up over her exposed and perfectly toned legs before skimming over a black shirt he recognised all too well. "That's my shirt," he remarked with a pout as he also took in her new hairstyle. Her usually errant curls were now tamed and framed her face perfectly...she looked gorgeous, but he would never admit it.
Alex shrugged, feeling a little self-conscious stood there in it. "I found it in the wardrobe when I first got here," she smirked, "why? Do you want it back?"
Gene looked up to meet her gaze, a glint in his stormy eyes as he shoved his hands into his pockets. "Not particularly and anyway, sadly yer'll have t' get out of it, Bolls 'cause we've got work t' do."
Alex groaned at him and glanced at the clock. "Gene, it's Sunday morning!" She complained, rubbing at her tired eyes, hoping that the action would soothe her pounding headache. Just how much had she drunk last night?
Gene frowned at her. "You hung-over, Bolly?"
"Just a bit," she replied, "I was under the impression that I could sleep in on a Sunday morning."
"Yeah, well, we've 'ad a body reported and I want t' get down there before the smarmy bastards over at Fenchurch West beat us to it."
Alex rolled her eyes. "Well at least make me a cup of tea while I get up, or I'll be grumpy all day," she told him before retreating to her bedroom and closing the door – much to Gene's disappointment.
"'cause that'd be a change, sulky-knickers!" he called after her before trudging through to the kitchen and flicking the kettle on. "Bloody woman, getting me t' make 'er tea. The Gene Genie doesn't make tea," he muttered as he removed two mugs from the cupboard and carelessly tossed two teabags into them.
"Jesus, Gene! He's not going to be any more dead if we don't get there within the next two minutes!" Alex exclaimed as her knuckles whitened on the edge of her seat and Gene threw the Quattro around yet another sharp corner with little mercy.
Gene shot her a look, allowing the wheel to spin back expertly under his gloved hands. "Shut up, woman. I drive how I like, and you point yer arse in my direction; that's the deal," he retorted as the car screeched to an abrupt halt outside what looked like a concrete block of council flats.
Alex slammed the car door when she got out, her eyes darting up to take in the thick grey clouds overhead. She shivered and drew her leather jacket around her so as to protect from the biting cold.
"You cold, Bolls?" Gene asked as they walked towards where Ray and Chris were stood waiting, both of them with cigarettes hanging from their mouths. The smoke swirled upwards and dissolved into the freezing early morning mist. Along with their health, Alex thought as Gene took one out himself.
"Yer should have one of these, warm yer up," he told her, waving it in front of her face. "Besides, it's early January, Bolly-kecks, not the middle of flamin' summer! What d'yer expect?"
Alex leant away from the cigarette, a disgusted look on her face. "I'd rather die of pneumonia than lung cancer, thank you very much."
Gene shrugged and took a long drag, blowing the smoke out in a long stream. "Suit yerself."
By this time, they'd reached Ray and Chris who, to Alex's satisfaction, had stubbed out their own lights and were looking expectantly at Gene.
"Right, me and Drakey 'ere are gunna go look at this poor sod's body. As fer you two, go get a formal statement from the next door neighbour. Now, mush!" At Gene's barking command, both Ray and Chris set off inside the towering flat block before them. Once they were gone, Gene removed his leather driving gloves and glanced at Alex. "You ready, frilly-knickers?"
Alex nodded and went ahead of him, desperate to get in the warm. Not that Gene minded; at least this way he got a good look at her arse as it swayed perfectly in those ridiculously tight jeans. Eventually though, he had to stop her. "Wait up, Bolls! Yer don't even know the flat number, yer dart tart."
Alex stopped with a sigh. "What is it then?"
"Thirty-seven, up yer go." He told her, motioning towards the stairs with a sly grin on his face.
"Right let's have a look at the poor sod," Gene said as he pushed down on the door handle.
"It's open," Alex remarked, surprised as they entered the small flat.
"Course it's open, the next door neighbour came in an' found 'im," he stopped and looked at her, "yer know I sometimes wonder what the 'ell is in tha' pretty little 'ead of yours, Drakey."
Alex just gave him a sarcastic smile in reply and strode on through to the living area where the pungent smell of rusty, warm blood was coming from. But she stopped dead at the terrible sight that greeted her.
His thin form was strewn on the threadbare carpet; pale lifeless face staring upwards as small amounts of crimson blood still trickled from the single gunshot wound lodged in the side of his neck. Black, floppy hair had fallen across his lifeless eyes as they gazed, unseeing up at the white ceiling. His mouth was slightly open, revealing straight white teeth and a split lip. Alex's shocked eyes wandered over across the young man's body and stopped at his right hand that still loosely clutched a gun, his forefinger resting on the trigger.
She swayed a little, her eyes widening as she saw Layton's bullet rush towards her, never stopping, continually speeding up....she felt dizzy, like her head was spinning....
"Christ on a bike, just a bit dramatic, then," Gene said behind her, shaking her out of it before he stepped forward and retrieved an upside down picture frame from the floor next to the body. He straightened up and turned it over, fingers skimming the wooden frame as Alex moved closer so she could see.
The glass over the picture had been smashed and the scattered spider's web of cracks made it hard to completely see the girl in the photo. They could just make out parts of the wavy blonde hair, half a dark brown eye and fragmented sections of a beaming smile – but not much else.
"Girlfriend perhaps?" Alex suggested, reaching out for the photo to get a better look. Her hand brushed Gene's hard skin as she did so and sent unexplainable electric shocks up her arm, making her heart skip a beat. But she pushed them to the back of her mind as she flipped it over again and told herself to stop acting like a hormonal teenager – he was Gene Hunt, for God's sake!
Gene watched as she gently prised the back off it and handed it to him so that she could remove the photo to get a better look. But behind the photo, was a neatly folded piece of paper. It was clean, still pure white and Alex removed it with a sense of foreboding and slightly trembling fingers. She could already guess what it was.
She slowly unfolded it, wondering with every crackle of the stiff paper if they should really read it. In the end, it didn't matter because Gene snatched it from her and quickly flattened it out. "I'd like t' get out of 'ere sometime before Christmas if that's alright with you," he muttered, his eyes falling to the messily scrawled note in his hands.
Alex sighed and stepped behind him to read over his shoulder. As her eyes followed the tragic words on the page, she didn't notice Gene's hands tense on the paper when her warm breath brushed across his earlobe, leaving a hitch in his throat.
I guess if you're reading this then you're coppers. I'm doing this myself; my life is in my hands and not anyone else's. I have control. This is my choice.
Tell Isabelle I love her. I know what she did, but I love her. This isn't her fault, she did nothing wrong – only what she was ever supposed to do. She was never meant for me, we're from two different worlds. I won't poison her anymore. But tell her I love her all the same.
Gene folded it back up again in silence and turned to face his DI as his hands found his pockets. "We're in luck, Bolls. Suicide – shouldn't take too long to clear up."
Alex's sad eyes at reading the note widened and her eyebrows hit the roof. Annoyance flooded her expression as she glared at him. "Jesus, Gene!" she threw her hands in the air, "how can you be so bloody insensitive?! This is a boy, a mere boy," she jabbed her finger in the direction of the body on the floor before placing her hands on her hips.
"He's killed himself, quite obviously leaving behind a girlfriend, who I presume, due to him not mentioning any parents, is the only person he had," she broke off, seething as he just stood there looking at her.
"And you," she poked him hard on the shoulder, "the only thing you can think about is how much of your precious time you've got to spend cleaning it up! Well, God forbid that 'Gene' has to do some work – for once!" She screamed, turning on her heel.
"Don't waggle yer bloody fingers when yer say my name! I thought we'd got past that, Drake! Drake!" Gene shouted after her as she stormed out of the flat, slamming the door behind her.
Hope you liked it and please tell me what you thought! There is still the Epilogue of Blood Child to go too, again – a massive thank you for the response I've got for that story.