I don't own Ashes to Ashes


The phone rang out; it was the middle of the night, and it shattered the silence like a bullet to glass, echoing and ricocheting off the walls like a game of ping-pong.

Had he been asleep, he might have been pissed off. As it was, he simply lifted the phone to his ear and grunted in the darkness, "Hunt."

"Gene," Alex's voice was filled with relief, as though she was getting herself in a state. He swirled the whiskey in his glass and leaned forwards, pressing the phone closer to his ear.

"Alright Bols?"


Actually, she wasn't alright. In fact, she was practically sobbing in frustration before she dialled his number.

"I've got a leak." She said, feeling her frustration melt away as a coy smile came over her lips, full of mischief that, even though she knew he couldn't see or recognize in her voice, made her feel compelled to cover her mouth, as though hiding it from a phantom visitor.

"'ey?" His voice was tired, confused, but not yet sleepy; she hadn't woken him. That was a shame- the idea of a naked Gene Hunt covered in nothing but a red bed sheet was one she might have enjoyed, but apparently he hadn't yet made it to that stage of the evening; no matter, she reasoned- she would soldier on.

"A leak, Gene," she repeated, a slightly patronising tone edging into her voice that she knew would frustrate him. "Do you know what a leak is?"

"Yes, Bols," he grunted, "I know what a leak is. You've got a hole in your pipes; what's the problem?"

"Well Gene," she smirked, "the leaks my problem. I just can't seem to stop it." She was laying on the sofa, toying lazily with the neck of her dressing gown, sliding a hand over her breast briefly as he spoke.

"Stick a bucket under it, Bollykecks. Get Luigi to look at it in the mornin'..." He yawned at the other end of the phone, and Alex had to stifle a small giggle with the back of her hand, composing herself for a moment before speaking again.

"I did that already," she said in mock frustration, hand trailing down to the heat between her legs, wet and ready, and she was smirking as she whispered, "it overflowed in a few minutes; I can't be getting up every two minutes to sort it out, can I?"

"Fine," he muttered, "shove something in it 'til mornin', then get Luigi to sort it; 'e's the bloody landlord, ain't he?"

Alex smiled. "Shove something in it?" She asked, hand trailing over her folds gently. "What like?" She brushed her clit softly, tentatively, trying to keep her breathing level as the tingling pleasure travelled over her body.

"I dunno, Bolly," he said tiredly, "somethin' big an' hefty."

"Hefty?" Alex asked. "You mean, a considerable weight and size?"

He yawned again at the other end. "Yeah, Bols... whatever you wan'... just somethin' that won't fall out."

Alex snorted, unable to contain herself, then controlled her amusement, "would a finger do?" She slipped her first finger inside herself, gently, caressing her inner folds softly as he answered, the smile never leaving her lips as she worked herself teasingly.

Gene sighed hopelessly, though his voice was tinged with a playful, amused tone as he said, "is your finger big enough, Bols? 'Cause last I noticed your 'ands were pretty dainty. An' I 'ardly think you wanna stand with your fingers shoved in a pipe all night, do yer? 'ow big's the leak?"

"Oh..." Alex said, feigning daftness, "right... yes... erm... well it's hard to tell..." she smiled, "I can't really see it... it's just leaking... everywhere..." her fingers moved slightly faster within her, pressing the phone to her ear with her shoulder whilst sliding her now free hand into her dressing gown to toy with her nipple, rolling it between her fingers with her eyes closed as Gene groaned in annoyance.

"Get a spanner or summit, Bols, I dunno..."

"A spanner," she breathed, hearing for herself the slight hitch of her breath. "Do you think that'll do the job?"

"I dunno, Bols, I ain't a bloody 'andy-man, but it's bigger 'un a finger ain't it?"

"I've got four fingers per hand, Gene," she breathed. "Do you think that'll work?" A second finger slid inside her heat, feeling herself slick and wet; she bit back a moan at his reply.

"Dunno, Bols... maybe you need a mallet."

"A mallet?" She gasped, a grin on her lips, "Isn't that a little bit too hefty? It might do more damage than good..."

He sighed, "No, Bols. It's just that you're a bird; in your hands maybe, yeah, it's dangerous."

Her body was shaking now, and she breathed heavily as she said, "I don't know... my hands seem to be... doing OK on their own..."

Gene's frown of disbelief practically reached down the phone and danced before her eyes, "'as it stopped leakin'?"

Alex bit her lip, moving her fingers faster, harder, closing her eyes and imagining it were his hands buried within her, his fingers rolling her nipples in their warm tips... "I've managed to... reduce the flow, I think... but it might break any moment..." Her teeth dug down on her lip harder, drawing blood as she tried to stifle the moan that threatened to burst from the depths of her chest, the arousal that was taking her over so great she thought she might scream.

Gene sighed. "Christ, look, just cover it up for the night and I'll 'ave a look tomorrow... get some kip."

"No, I won't sleep, it's going to keep me up all night..." Or him, she hoped, but that was a different matter. Grinning at the opportunity for yet another innuendo, hands now vigorously rubbing the sensitive nub of nerves between her legs, she murmured, "It's going to burst... I can feel it..." His groan of frustration at her apparent uselessness tipped her over the edge; stars burst before her eyes, her fingers clenching on her breast as she gasped in shock and pleasure, his name on her lips.


"GENE!" She gasped. He assumed the pipe, or whatever it was, had just burst, but in that moment, he really didn't care.

He knew it was wrong, but the fact was, the sound of her voice, high-pitched and breathy, was so completely replicable of the noises he imagined her making in the throes of passion that an erection rose out of nowhere, threatening to break the zip on his comfy trousers, and blocking out any noise that might have come from the pipe-burst itself. He bit back a groan as she gasped, breathing raspy and heavy. When he'd gathered himself, he muttered a half-hearted question.

"You alrigh', Bols?"

She was still gasping as she replied "yes... yes... just got... got very wet..."

Gene groaned out loud at that, the image of her, in a white see-through blouse, dripping wet and shivering, too much for him to handle. "I'll be over in ten, Bols... just lemme grab me tool box..."


"You alrigh', Bols?" His voice was gruff and sexy; the truth was, she was more than alright.

She felt blissful, on a pedestal, as though she were floating amongst the clouds naked and being caressed by soft silk sheets... Fingers still buried inside herself, she answered him, "yes... yes... just got... got very wet..." the smile on her face one more of contentment than amusement as he groaned down the line, her mind conjuring filthy images of him making that very noise in the height of bliss...

"I'll be over in ten, Bols... just lemme grab me tool box..."


It was more like twenty minutes by the time he showed up at the door. He had grabbed the tool box, but he'd also taken his metaphorical 'tool' in hand in an attempt to calm down his sex-drive before he drove over and stared at his dripping wet DI in a totally soaked living room... unfortunately, even after having gained release from the haven of his own bathroom, on the drive over, the only thing he could think about was the picture of her, soaked from head to toe and shrieking his name... Jesus Christ.

She was a bloody woman having trouble with her pipes, and he was making even that sexual... it was wrong, really, when he thought about it... but it didn't stop that very wrong thought providing much scope for sexual fantasy.


When he knocked on the door, she answered almost straight away, her red dressing gown thrown around herself and wrapped loosely at the waist. He was surprised to see that her hair wasn't soaking wet, but he supposed the hairdryer had probably been brought into play. Stepping over the threshold, he looked around, toolbox in hand. "Don' look very wet in 'ere Bols," he muttered.

"No..." Alex smiled, giving him a quick once over; he hadn't changed since work that very same afternoon, though he'd removed the tie and unbuttoned the shirt halfway down his chest, revealing a small smattering of chest hair that she desperately wanted to run her fingers over. Half of the shirt was untucked from his trousers, hanging loosely at his side. His hair was slightly mussed, as though he'd taken a shower and failed to comb it afterwards; he'd never looked sexier. The fact he was carrying a tool box only added to it, and she could feel herself dissolving into a puddle of lust. "No..." she repeated, "leaks in the kitchen..."

Gene glanced over at the phone, attached to the wall on the table next to the sofa. "The kitchen?" he asked, disbelief evident on his face.

"Yes... under the sink..." she beckoned him in and led the way to the kitchen, where she had, with blissful carelessness, poured a bucket of water over the floor. Gene took it in, then looked back towards the phone.

"'ow'd you manage to reach it from there, Bolly?" His tone was one of suspicion and she sighed in irritation.

"It's got a stretchy cord, Gene... now could you please check the sink?"

Gene grunted; it was nearly half twelve at night, he'd come halfway across town to fix her sink, and she was getting bloody arsey with him? He felt compensated, however, when she leant down in front of him, displaying the curves of her buttocks as she opened the cupboard and looked in with scrutiny. He was scrutinising, too; he was scrutinizing her arse, and seriously considering grabbing it, grinding against it, slapping it... he snapped out of his trance when she turned to look at him. "Any ideas?"

He blinked as she stood up straight, stepping aside. With a cough to clear his throat, he bent over and looked under the sink at the pipes; bone-bloody-dry. "Well it's not your sink you posh-knickered nonce- its bone dry in 'ere... which pipe were you 'oldin' when it burst?"

Alex bit her lip, bending over behind him, hand resting on his back as she looked at the pipe with intensity, as though she might be able to discover the route of the problem... "holding, Gene? I wasn't holding a pipe..."

Trying to ignore the feel of her hand rested on him, he grunted at her, "Then 'ow the bloody 'ell did you get soaked?" He stood up, pushing the door shut and turning to look at her.

He blinked.

She was closer than he had first thought; an inch away. He could see specks of green in her hazel eyes, see the growth of a small eyebrow hair that was just peeking through but wouldn't be noticeable at a respectable distance... she was biting her lip, and he could see her tooth gently digging into the soft, red flesh... and she was trying to bite back a grin, and failing miserably.

"Where's the leak, Bols?" He growled, annoyed. Half-bloody-twelve at night and she was pissing him around about some leak in a tap that she wouldn't even show him.

Alex grinned mischievously. "Do you really want me to show you?"

"If you expect me to fix the bloody thing then yes, that might be an idea!" Revelling in his frustration, Alex pulled a chair out and motioned for him to sit down.

"Bols, I don't want a bloody tea-party, I wanna get to bed sometime before five."

Alex laughed, "You will. Just sit down, and close your eyes!"

"It's a bloody tap, Drake, it's hardly a surprise what a tap looks like, you daft tart!" He was annoyed, but he sat down, albeit grumpily, crossing his arms and looking at her expectantly. "Well?"

"Close your eyes," she said insistently.


"Then you can't see the leak!" She teased.

"Then you can't 'ave it fixed!" He retorted.

Alex smiled continually, and, eventually, Gene gave in. Stupid bloody cow had to act like a bleeding magician; it was a tap- it was hardly like he'd never seen one of them before.

"Bloody stupid," he muttered under his breath, eyes still closed.


He heard the rustle of fabric as she moved, heard her soft breathing, the slight hum of amusement in her throat; he could tell she was bloody enjoying this. If there wasn't a leak he'd kill her. Or shag her senseless... one of the two... wasn't a difficult choice... the kitchen table looked like a pretty safe bet...

And then he felt her close to him, her hand on his shoulder, "Don't open your eyes," she said when he moved to lift his lids. He grunted in annoyance, but did as he was told, suddenly not caring if there was a leak as the lustful note in her voice caused his groin to stir. He closed his eyes tighter, willing her not to notice; he was sure she was just trying to piss him off, and he wasn't planning to give her the satisfaction of knowing it was getting to him... if had to walk out of here with a boner though, he thought, he would be pissed...

And then suddenly as he felt her throw a leg over him, settling close up against his chest, her thighs clamping down on either side of his waist; his eyes opened and he practically whimpered at the sight of her, naked in his lap, with a grin like a Cheshire cat on her face. His arms unfolded, hands shooting out to grasp her waist, holding her firmly in place with sparks of lust igniting in his stomach to create full-blown fire.

She'd got great tits; It was the only thing he could think as he stared at them. They were the perfect weight, perfect size, probably a perfect fit for his hands... but it was his mouth that fell on them, hands pressing against the small of her back to hold her in place as he sucked and licked at the taut nub that now inhabited his mouth. She moaned her appreciation, and his erection pressed firmly against her centre; it was then he noticed that she wasn't even wearing knickers, that she was completely soaked and that her arousal was leaving its mark on his trousers... He pulled back from her breasts to look down, groaning at the sight of her pale thighs contrasting with his black trousers...

"Looks like you've found the leak, Mister Plumber," Alex whispered in his ear, tongue flicking out to caress the cartilage shell. "Now, I do believe you said something about a mallet?"

"Not before you said something about a finger," he grunted, looking into her heated eyes and murmuring, "show me."

The grin on her face was blissful, triumphant, and she lifted herself slightly, unbuckling his belt and sliding his zip down, to Gene's scolding glare. She continued to smirk, whispering softly, "I'll show you... but it's hardly fair for me to do it alone, is it?"

He groaned, helping her in her mission by pushing them down on his hips, revealing his throbbing arousal, to her appreciative gaze. "That's quite a hefty mallet," she teased, "don't you think it might cause damage?"

"No, Bols," he grunted. "I know 'ow to use it. Now show me."


She did show him.

She reached down to her centre, leaning forward so her lips rested next to Gene's ear, letting him feel every rasping breath down his ear canal as her own fingers began to work her into a frenzy... "I've wanted this for weeks, Gene," she whispered. "Months, even..."

Gene groaned, one hand moving from her back to grasp his length, moving slowly up and down in time with her rasping breaths, watching as her fingers slid in and out of her body, undulating against her folds repeatedly; occasionally she swirled her thumb against her clit, giving herself a small tremor, then stopping, looking at him as though that shudder was for his benefit not hers, and leaning forward to whisper in his ear...

"I've thought about you, Gene Hunt, every night... and every night, I've been reduced to nothing... falling apart, screaming your name in frustration... but not tonight... I'm not a fan of DIY Gene... not without an extra pair of hands..." she pressed her lips to the base of his ear and continued to whisper, "thought about you fucking me, Gene... in the office... in the Quattro... in the canteen... in my bed..." Both of their breathing was erratic, hands moving faster as she spoke.

Images flashed before Gene's eyes; her, bent over his desk... her, straddling him in the driver's seat... her, on her knees beneath the table in the canteen... him, buried to the hilt in her body as her legs wrapped around his back, both of them surrounded by red sheets... He groaned, leaning forwards to catch her nipple again, sucking fiercely, gently trailing his teeth over her... She threw her head back, moaning incoherently as her whole body quaked in orgasm. Groaning, he grasped her hips, lifting her slightly before pushing into her, pulling her down his length so that she straddled him fully, his erection firmly situated within her... He turned his mouth into her neck, suckling and nibbling as he felt her pulse beneath his lips, pounding, heavy... She was moaning, moving her hips slowly up and down, gasping each time he re-entered her. Without thinking, he pulled her face to his, catching her lips between his teeth and sucking gently, nibbling briefly before sliding his tongue into her mouth, tasting wine as their tongues tangled around one another...

"More..." she murmured softly against his mouth, "please..."

He let out a strangled groan, hands resting on her waist briefly before he began to pull her over him faster, thrusting upwards into her, her wet sleeve tightening around him as she whimpered repeatedly into their kiss.

"Fuck, Bols," he grunted, moving her harder faster, digging his fingers into her waist as the pleasure intensified. "Bloody selfish..." he muttered, "liar... deceiving... selfish... so bloody selfish..." He let out another groan, disentangling his mouth from hers and bringing it down to her shoulder, biting down as she tightened again, his hand sliding between them to harshly brush her clit, over and over, until suddenly she was moaning, sighing, then shrieking his name... he joined her, his release dragged from him, spilling into her, mingling with her own juices... he saw stars as he shuddered, feeling her body quaking against him... when they stilled, she slumped against his chest, draping her arms around his shoulders and kissing him lazily, eyes closed, one hand tangled in his hair whilst the other rubbed lazy circles in the fabric of his shirt...

"I think you stopped the leak," she murmured eventually. She felt him as he grinned into her neck, lips brushing her pulse point briefly before he spoke.

"Dunno, Bols... could burst again... you never know..." He gently kissed the corner of her mouth. "Maybe needs another good bangin' with that mallet..."

Alex giggled, pressing their lips together briefly, before murmuring, "maybe I'll call the plumber and ask him for a second opinion," she teased.

His hold tightened on her, pulling her closer. "I am the plumber," he muttered, "but if you really need a second opinion, I can 'ave a closer look..." he stood up, walking carefully across the wet kitchen floor and carrying her through to the bedroom, where he lay her on the bed before him. "Now, Miss Drake, how about you open the cupboard, and we'll 'ave a quick look at your taps?"


" You know, Bolly," he muttered later as he leant to turn off the bedside light, "if you'd wanted a shag, you could've saved alot o' trouble an' just asked."


A little bit of fun-filled smut for the weekend!

Hope it was enjoyable!

Mage of the Heart