Turning the tables
"He'll never agree to it, Ma'am."
Shaz propped her head on her hand, staring dejectedly at the table top. Alex looked across at her colleague, concerned at the absence of her usual brightness and optimism.
"Have you asked him?"
"I tried. Don't think I really explained it properly though. I'm sure he was about to say no when Viv called him about that assault on Thripp Street. I don't know how to bring it up again."
Alex stirred the foam into her cappuccino. At least Luigi could provide a decent cup of coffee – better than anything you'd get at the station, anyway. She sighed. All Shaz wanted from Gene was a reference so she could attend a training course that would help her move out of uniform and into CID. Alex was delighted that Shaz had the ambition to seek the transfer, especially given that she was clearly wasted in her current admin role. But would Gene see it that way? Or would his neolithic approach to women in the office prevent him from recognising Shaz's potential? Alex would bet Luigi's flat on the latter.
"Well," she replied. "We'll just have to make sure he can't say no, won't we?"
Shaz looked at her quizzically. "How are we going to do that, then, Ma'am?"
"Oh, I've got a few ideas." She shot the younger woman a conspiratorial smile. "Leave it with me. I'll get you that reference before the end of the week."
Sitting at her desk later, Alex watched as the last of her colleagues departed to Luigi's for a swift one or half-dozen. The office was empty – no major cases at the moment, nothing to keep the team from topping up the alcohol levels in their bloodstream – but Alex wasn't planning to join them this evening. She pulled a pile of paperwork towards her, deciding to make the most of the wait, and began ploughing through it.
She didn't have to wait too long. About ninety minutes later she made out the familiar sound of boot heels clicking along the corridor, growing louder as their owner made his way towards the squad room. She didn't look up at the sound of the double doors being pushed wide open, kept her nose in her paperwork as the figure of Gene Hunt loomed over her desk.
"Not joining us tonight, Bolly?"
Alex kept her head bent low, apparently absorbed in witness statements, tapping her pen absently against her desk. "Hmmm?"
"We not good enough for you this evening? Or got a hot date elsewhere?"
She looked up at that, a small smile playing around her lips. "Oh, nothing like that, Gene. Just thought I'd catch up on a few bits and pieces. Give my liver a break."
"That right, Drake?" The look he sent her, a narrow gaze that glinted along his nose, told her clearly that he was sceptical. But he didn't pursue it; just turned and carried on into his office, taking a seat and pulling a stack of his own files towards him.
Alex smiled to herself. He could be so predictable. A few beers over the road, perhaps a short conversation with Ray, then back here to while away the rest of the evening. After five minutes of pretending to organise her paperwork, she risked a glance into his office. He sat, feet propped on his desk, a tumbler in his hand, smoke curling through the gloom. An open file sat in front of him but he was staring absently into the corner of the office, making conspicuously little progress. Now seemed to be the perfect time to strike. She slipped free the top button of her blouse, then glanced down, shrugged and opened another. Flicking a hand through her hair, she loosened the curls, a few tendrils falling free and framing her face. Flicking her tongue across her lips she took a deep breath and walked into Gene's office.
Dropping his feet to the floor, he pulled a tumbler from his desk drawer and poured out a generous measure, handing it to Alex. "Still here, then?" As if he hadn't noticed. As if her presence in the office wasn't the reason he was here now and not across the road, sinking a dodgy chianti and taking the piss out of Chris's highlights.
Alex accepted the glass and took a swig. Dutch courage. She hadn't thought she'd need it, but now, sitting there, subject to Gene's assessing stare, she felt some of her earlier confidence evaporate. Didn't help when she noticed how Gene's gaze shifted to her lips as she sipped from the glass. Could she go through with this? She owed it to Shaz. And let's be honest – deep down, she was sure she'd enjoy it.
"Been a long day," she replied, walking slowly around his desk, resting her hip on the edge, staring down at him. "Trying to get the paperwork sorted for that jewellery blag. Ray filed the original witness statements, but getting them in any sort of order is a bit like knitting with jelly." She rolled her eyes, hoping to ignite a spark of sympathy from her boss.
Gene stared up at her. He hated the way she could put him on the back foot with just a word or a glance; hated it when he couldn't figure out what she was up to. What did she want this time? He absolutely would not be distracted by the curve of breast he could just make out at the neck of her blouse. Would not be distracted by sight of her arse perched delicately on his desk, within frustratingly easy touching distance.
"Hmm," he mumbled, dragging his attention back to the matter in hand. "Well. Ray has his uses but filing's not among his more obvious qualities."
Alex smiled and gave a breathy little laugh. "No," she agreed, "but there are plenty of people around here who can file pretty well. Seems silly to try and force someone like Ray to keep on top of paperwork when his skills lie so clearly elsewhere." Alex turned her body towards his, inching closer, subtly breaching his personal space.
Gene's gaze flicked the length of her body and he took a steadying breath, murmuring a non-committal hmm.
Alex leaned closer still, twirling a curl of hair around her finger, drawing Gene's attention to her face. She took advantage by allowing a glimpse of tongue to appear between her lips, smiling to herself as she saw him swallow. Maybe this would be easier than she'd thought. "You're so good at managing the team," she purred, reaching across him to take another sip of scotch. "Always want to get the best out of them."
Gene nodded slowly, scepticism warring with desire. She wanted something from him and much as he wanted it to be his body, somehow he didn't think so. He needed to pull himself together or he'd lose whatever shreds of self-respect he'd managed to cling on to so far. It didn't help that he could feel the warmth from her body as she angled it towards him, could make out the fresh scent of her perfume cutting through the hazy office air.
Alex bit her lip. She could sense him wavering and went in for the kill. Reaching across, she traced a finger down his cheek, along his jaw, brushing dangerously close to his lower lip. "Gene," she breathed. "You must know how important it is to Shaz to attend that training course." Her gaze flicked between his eyes and his lips as her thumb stroked softly across his cheek. "You'll give her a reference, won't you?"
Alex was staring at his lips so missed the anger that flared in his eyes. He grabbed her wrist, holding tightly enough to make her wince, and glared up at her. "So that's it, is it?" he bit out. "All this just for a reference for Shaz? Great game, Alex. Very entertaining. Only thing is, I think I prefer solitaire."
Shit. That wasn't right. Alex's eyes widened in dismay. "I, um, don't know what you mean," she stammered.
"I think you know exactly what I mean." Keeping a tight hold of her wrist, Gene rose to his feet and moved to stand in front of her. "You think a few sweet words, a flutter of your eyelashes, and I'll be so distracted I'll say yes to anything you ask me?"
Gene loomed above her, anger bleeding from every pore and Alex had to force herself not to cower. This was going horribly wrong. Didn't feel much like a game any more. "Gene," she whispered. "I just…"
"Just what?" Gene edged closer, fire glinting in his eyes, temper making him unwary. "Just thought you'd play me for a sap? Just thought you'd walk all over me so that you'd get your own way?"
Faced with a fiery Gene Hunt, Alex found her usual composure fast deserting her. She could feel the heat from his body, his breath on her face, the sheer force of his physical presence. He still held her wrist against his face and she was sure he must be able to feel her pulse racing at the point where they touched. When had this happened? The tables well and truly turned.
Gene stared down at her, seeing her eyes darken and her breath catch. She didn't look in control anymore. Didn't look like she was playing a game. He wondered – surely he shouldn't? But she'd pushed him too far. He couldn't hold back now, wasn't going to listen to the voice of reason nagging at the back of his mind.
He stepped closer, easing himself between her knees, his body just inches from hers. His thumb began to trace small circles on the inside of her wrist and she stifled a breath. "What's that, Bolls? Didn't quite catch it."
She shook her head mutely, unable to look away from his intense gaze. The nerve endings in her wrist were burning beneath his fingers, shooting darts of flame through her body, and she trembled with the force of it. Her mind wouldn't admit what was happening. She was supposed to be the one with all the cards. This was her game, her rules. Gene wanted her, not the other way around. So why was she mesmerised by his eyes? Why was she melting beneath his touch?
Gene bent fractionally closer. "What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?"
"Gene," she whispered, "please."
"Please what, Alex? Please don't?" Tightening his hold on her wrist, he lowered their hands so that her palm was flat on the desk behind her back. The action forced their bodies closer, her back arched towards him, his face set determinedly just inches above hers. "Or please don't stop?"
He leaned closer, bending his head towards her, his lips heading for hers, and smiled to himself as he saw her mouth open slightly in anticipation. Changing course at the last minute, he ducked past her face and whispered a feather-light kiss across her bare shoulder. There was no disguising her gasp at the contact.
"Like that, do you?" he murmured against her neck. Alex's eyes fluttered closed as she focused on the sensation of his lips on her skin. She'd imagined it, of course she had, she'd even fantasised about it, but she'd never imagined it would feel like this. Sparks shot through her, heating her from the inside out, and she was close to surrender.
"I asked you a question, Detective Inspector Drake," Gene growled, running a hand lightly up her arm, then stroking across her shoulder. "Failure to answer could be construed as gross insubordination." He punctuated his comments by nipping and licking his way up the column of her neck, reaching her earlobe and drawing it into his mouth.
Alex took a deep breath, trying to pull her thoughts into focus. "You're supposed to be a detective, Hunt," she managed. "See if you can work it out."
"I think it's going to require a lot of investigation," muttered Gene, his mouth at her ear, his voice sending shivers through Alex. "Wouldn't want to be accused of acting without evidence." Stroking a hand along her spine he pulled her body closer, bringing her against him, and she automatically lifted her hands to his waist, creeping them around his back, loving the feel of the firm flesh beneath her fingers.
"Evidence is very important," Alex agreed, desperately trying not to be distracted by the trail of kisses Gene was planting along her jaw, a trail that was heading straight to her lips. "Can't rely on instincts alone."
Gene's kisses reached the corner of her mouth and he paused, murmuring, "Oh, I don't know, Bolls. Instincts have their place." And he covered her lips with his, easing his tongue into her mouth, sliding it against hers, tasting her, finally, breathing her in.
Alex's head swam and she could think of nothing but the feel of his kiss, the way his mouth was working its magic on her senses, pulling her under until she thought she was drowning with it. Fight it, she thought, try to keep control. But she was helpless as she felt him nibbling on her lower lip, pushing his hand into her hair, wrapping an arm tightly around her back, pulling her even closer to him.
He eased himself closer, standing between her legs, her thighs gripping his hips, his erection pressing unmistakeably against her. He was vaguely aware that they were in his office, that the door wasn't locked, that the consequences of being caught were unthinkable, but he pushed the worries aside. She was in his arms, hot and willing, returning his attentions kiss for kiss, touch for touch, and there was no way he was pulling away now.
Wrapping their arms around each other, bodies pressed together, the air was pierced by their sounds of desire, their moans and gasps and sighs. Gene's hands were restless against Alex's body, sweeping across her breasts, along her thighs, around her bottom. He couldn't pull her close enough, wanting to touch every inch of her, kissing her lips, her throat, her shoulders, lower. His hands pulled at her blouse, ripping it open, revealing her body to his gaze. Christ, she was beautiful, gorgeous flesh filling her scarlet lace bra, and he lowered his head, pulling the cups down, grazing her nipples with his thumbs, taking the peaks into his mouth and sucking until Alex cried out in pleasure.
"God, Bolly," Gene mumbled against her breast, "taste like fucking champagne." He pinched her nipple, holding it between finger and thumb, then dragged his teeth across the tip. She squirmed against him, murmuring incoherently, threading her fingers through his hair.
Alex lifted her legs, crossing her ankles in the small of Gene's back. Urging his hips towards her, pulling off his tie, slipping free the buttons on his shirt, Alex was blind to everything but the desire that pulsed within her. She felt his hands at her waistband, freeing the button and sliding down the zip. Pushing herself up on her hands, she raised her bottom enough for Gene to pull her jeans down her legs, removing her shoes as he went.
Gene took a moment to savour the view – Alex, sitting on the edge of the desk, her blouse hanging open, her breasts free, nothing but a scrap of red satin between him and paradise. Christ Almighty, was this really happening? Would he wake up and find it was just another dream? Deciding it didn't matter, he reached for her again, stroking his hands along her thighs, catching her lips with his own.
Pulling away slightly, Gene stroked a finger along the satin, watching in satisfaction as Alex's eyes closed at his touch. He pushed the fabric aside and slid a finger along her folds, nearly undone by her slick warmth and the way she was whispering his name. Sliding a finger inside her, thrusting slowly, he caught her sighs in his mouth, kissing her until she shook beneath him.
"Oh, yes," Alex, murmured, rocking her hips gently in time with his thrusts. "Feel so good." She couldn't believe how much he aroused her; he seemed to know instinctively how to touch her, kiss her, where she was most sensitive. Desire coiled within her and she felt herself sliding closer and closer to the brink. Not wanting to fall alone, she took his hand and lifted it to her mouth, holding his gaze as she kissed the pads of his fingers, tasting herself there. Lust flared unmistakeably in his eyes.
She slid her hands beneath his shirt, smoothing across his chest, flicking his nipple and smiling as he moaned in response. He felt warm and solid beneath her fingers and she ached for more. Slipping her hands to the waistband of his trousers, she slid the button from the hole and was working on the zip when she felt Gene's hand on hers, holding her still.
"Alex," Gene groaned, touching his forehead to hers. "You sure? Won't be able to stop soon. Need to know now."
For an answer, she looked him straight in the eye and slowly, deliberately, lowered the zip. Sliding her hands around his waist, she pushed the trousers and boxers to the floor, before reaching for his cock, hard and hot in her hand.
Gene took a sharp breath as her fingers curled round him, stroking slowly and firmly. "Jesus," he hissed, "don't stop." But she did stop, sliding her hands across his body and around his waist, pulling him closer to her.
Alex lifted her thighs and tilted her hips, desperate for him to fill her. As if sensing what she needed, Gene slipped his hands to her arse, holding her steady, before sliding slowly into her.
Her mind went blank as she succumbed to the sensation of him within her, filling her, thrusting deep while mumbling words of lust and need into her shoulder. She curled her arms around his neck, pushing herself against him, wrapping her legs tight around his waist. Nothing existed but the man alongside her, the man who was giving her such dizzying pleasure with his hands, his lips, his glorious body. She met every thrust, welcoming his possession, knowing nothing would be the same again.
Gene dropped wet kisses on Alex's shoulder, loving the taste of her, the feel of her skin beneath his fingers. He was desperate to come but never wanted it to end. He could never get enough of this, of her. Everything he'd imagined, every sensation, was magnified a hundredfold in this fabulous reality. Dear God, he could drown in her, would die a happy man.
Alex felt the heaviness building at her core, the familiar beat pulsing through her, and she curled her fingers into Gene's shoulder, clinging on. "Gene," she begged, "please, more." She was so close and he knew it, wanted to help her along. He slid a hand between their bodies and found the sensitive nub, brushing his fingers across it, sucking hard at her neck as he felt her tighten around him. She cried his name as she crashed over the edge, holding him tight as the waves washed across her.
The look on her face as she came, the sound of his name on her lips, was enough to send Gene spiralling after her. He pulled her closer, thrusting faster, harder, until he exploded in a blinding flash, shooting into her again and again, mumbling her name, telling her without words how it had never felt like this before.
Gradually their hearts began to slow, their bodies cooled, breathing returned to normal. Gene slipped out of her and sat alongside her on the edge of the desk. Slowly Alex became aware of their surroundings, the harsh overhead lighting, the discomfort of sitting on the desk, the indignity of being half-dressed in her boss's office.
She began to gather her clothing, fumbling with buttons and straps, trying not to meet Gene's eye. He didn't seem beset by any of her awkwardness, casually pulling up his trousers and adjusting his shirt. She could sense his eyes on her as she ran her fingers through her hair, trying to restore some order to its chaos.
When she felt him nudge her elbow, she forced herself to meet his gaze. "So," he said, pursing his lips as he sent her a thoughtful stare. "I may never look at this desk the same way again."
Her lips twitched; she'd had the exact same thought. Perhaps it would be all right after all. "Not terribly comfortable, though, is it?" she replied.
He shook his head slowly, his lips set in a familiar pout. "Not comfortable at all. Certainly not as comfortable as – say – a sofa."
A beat. "You've got a comfortable sofa."
She made a decision. "It's pretty comfortable." Raising an eyebrow, she added deliberately, "Not as comfortable as my bed, of course. My bed is very comfortable. In fact, I'm heading straight there."
"Is that right?" Gene nodded thoughtfully. "I'm always fond of a comfortable bed."
Alex picked up her jacket and strolled to the door, pausing to look back at him. "Well. It's big enough for two."
Gene threw on his coat and made to follow her out of the office, before pausing and turning on his heel.
"Hold on a moment, Bolly. You'll be wanting this." He reached into his desk drawer and pulled out a piece of paper, handing it to her as they walked through the squad room doors.
"What is it?" Alex looked down at the paper, her steps slowing as she took in its contents. "It's a reference. For Shaz. For the course." She turned the sheet over and saw Gene's distinctive signature scrawled across the bottom. "You had this all the time."
Gene shrugged. "She's a bright girl. All you had to do was ask." With a smirk, he added, "Course, I'm not exactly complaining about your methods."
She knew she should be angry but couldn't stop the bubble of laughter from escaping. Punching him gently in the arm, she led him down the steps of the station and across the road to her flat. She had every intention of showing him exactly how comfortable her bed was.