Who is Gene Hunt

Authors note:-
Its a simple question, just who is the Gene Genie?'

Caroline Price's eyes snapped open. The last thing she remembered was... no that couldn't have happened. It just couldn't.

She was here, alive. Where ever here was. She got up from the uncomfortable plastic chair and looked around. It felt like a hospital waiting room, stale and bleak but the people in it, what they were wearing was nothing like she'd seen before. Dirty white track suits and shaved heads looking like the dregs of humanity scattered across men and women in dry business suits.

Looking down she was dressed in a casual shirt and black jeans. She had no idea how she got here and decided to ask at the desk. Looking around she saw it mounted in the wall behind inch thick glass. A girl in her twenties was aimlessly moving leaflets and papers. Squaring her shoulders she made for the young woman and almost tripped over her own feet when a half familiar voice called out.

It was northern, male and belonged to the self styled "northern lion" Gene Hunt. 'What the bleeding hell are you doing out here Price. It's this way.' still in his black shirt and jacket he hadn't changed a bit.

The girl looked up and tried to tell him he couldn't go through those doors. Waving his warrant card buy slapping it against the glass and calling it his "I can do anything I bloody well want to card" he almost dragged her into the corridor.

'Just what do you think your doing?' She asked him, refusing to move another step.

''Look we're kind of in a rush okay, we don't have time to play the what game.' Hunt pointed down the empty hall.

Still a bit dazed by what she knew couldn't have happened she did as he said. 'But where are we, those people back there?'

'Scum you mean. Well not all of them, just enough. The world's gone to crap thanks to you bloody lawyers.' He passed her and stomped around a corner. This hall wasn't empty. There was a girl, barely older than a child, curled up on the same sort of chair Caroline had woken up on. 'Not that it was all daffodils and sweets back in the day but a least we didn't have random beating in the streets.' He said just loud enough for her to hear. Then he almost shouted. 'You awake little lady?'

The girl jumped with a start and tried to look presentable. Her school uniform crumpled and lived in, like she hadn't changed her clothes for days. 'Oh, hi Mr Hunt.' blinking Caroline was shocked how much she looked like her own daughter. 'Is this a friend?'

'Of your mother's Molly. Go back a long way those two, we'll just say hello to her quickly.'

'She won't know your there. I... it's...' The girl, Molly, looked up, not a tear in her eye but her jaw quivering slightly.

Hunt put a hand on her shoulder. 'Hey, remember what I told you. She's a rock your old mum. Nutty as a fruit bar on occasion but a rock and you're just like her. She'll move heaven and earth to get back lass. She'll make it, trust the Gene Genie.'

Molly giggled half heartily. 'Hunt's right you know. Solid as a rock.' Caroline agreed.

'Come on lets keep her company.' Hunt smiled at Caroline and opened the opposite door. Inside, hooked up to machines and lying half propped up was DI Drake.

A great bandage over the side of her head, tubes and pipes keeping her breathing. Drips and needles scatted across her keeping her alive. Caroline stepped in and Hunt closed the door. How he could be so comforting to the girl when her mother lay there, less than ten feet away, with nothing but machines and boxes keeping her going.

Then it hit her. Everything Drake had told her. Everything, she wasn't insane. But it couldn't be. There was a calendar on a little table next to the woman. It read 2008. Late March.

'Wh... what. She... No. Please, no.' Hunt stepped past her again and picked a stray hair from Drake... From Alex's head. 'What are you doing?' Caroline tried to move but she couldn't, her feet stuck to the ground.

Hunt turned to her. 'There we go, now I think its time you moved on.'

'But Alex...'

He laughed. He actually laughed. Right there, holding her grown daughters hand, this northern pig could laugh at her. 'She's right where you left her. Back in '81. I'm keeping an eye on her for you.' He smiled again this time it was full of suggestions 'In fact I'll keep both on her. A lot more fun that way.'

'If you touch a hair on her head again...' Caroline warned him but something was happening. The room was becoming cold and dark. Just the three of them and everything was blurry, like she was having trouble focusing her eyes.

'I might not have much in the way of manners but I'm still a gentleman. At least I try to be.'

'What... what happens now?'

He shrugged and there was something behind her. Something new. 'Don't know. I'm just a simple copper from Manchester.' Caroline Price turned around and...

Gene watched her disappear. It was best that way. Dragging up his chair he put his feet up on the side of Drake's bed and folded his arms. 'Told you she'd understand eventually, even a lawyer isn't that thick. So what shall we talk about now? City won again, not that you can call it that these days. Don't know that much about rugby.' He patted his jacket down, only one hip flask. 'I'd offer you some love, but hey you wouldn't appreciate it.'

Shaking it slightly Gene was disappointed to find it empty. 'Damn. I'll get that seen to later.' The two sat in silence, only the slow tick of the clock and the bleeping of the machines passing the time.

Resisting the urge to play with them Gene cracked his neck. 'I really could do with a drink, and so could you. What do you say I meet you in in a small Italian restaurant. About five minuets?'

'"Ashes to ashes, fun to funky, we all know Major Tom's a junky." He sang to himself and with that and a smile he slid between a comfortable crack in reality.

End Who is Gene Hunt