I don't own Ashes to Ashes


Her hearing returned first.

She heard the distinct, profoundly long beep of a heart monitor, and found herself wondering where it came from as the one at her side kept quietly working, beeping steadily along with the small pulse in her neck that she could feel on the edge of her periphery senses... She heard chaos, yelling, strangely familiar voices, but then it was gone, and she felt oddly relieved, as the slight ache in her head seemed to relax slightly against the burgeoning pressure on her temples.

Next to return was her sense of smell, slowly filtering through her nostrils and bringing her more firmly to consciousness with gentle wafts of scent. First, there was the distinct smell of hospitals - not surprising, really, she mused, breathing through her nose slightly deeper and inwardly blinking with surprise as the now familiar smell assaulted her senses; Old Spice, soap and cigarettes. A smile tugged at her lips, her hand groping blindly at things she couldn't feel as she searched in vain for his hand, hearing the quickening pace of the heart machine as she moved. She felt her breathing hitch, her heart hammering wildly in her chest, and a moment later she was panicking, trembling on the brink of hysteria as she fought to speak.

"Gene? Gene! Gene, where are you?" Her voice cracked with panic, quavering horribly, and hot tears spilled from her eyes as she searched again with her hand. "Gene! Gene I can't see! Gene, Gene, please – please, I can't see! Gene, I-"

She suddenly became aware of warmth on her stomach, an arm thrown across her waist, and hair beneath her fingers; hair that she clung on to, tightening her grip as she tried not to panic, tried not to worry if she'd ever see again... And then he moved; his hand covered hers – warm, rough and large, prying her fingers gently from his hair and tangling their hands together as he went. "Bloody 'ell..." He sounded as though he had just woken up, and his voice was riddled with surprise and alarm. "Bols, you- I..." She heard him swallow, and then he spoke again, quietly.

"I'll get the nurse, Bols," he murmured, squeezing gently at his hand; his voice was gruff, ridden with sleep and tiredness, and there was a slight note of panic in his voice, but she didn't care, clinging to him hopelessly as she shook her head, sobbing slightly as she squeezed back at his hand.

"No, Gene, please don't go – please don't go! Don't leave me! Press the button – they'll come soon! Just don't leave me!" The tears were falling thick now, and she could feel the panic in her voice, sense Gene's indecision before he spoke again, his voice tentative.

"What button?" He asked, evidently confused.

"The nurse button, the little red button – please don't leave, Gene, please! I-!"

He moved, cutting her off as his large hands framed her face; she could feel them, cupping her cheeks almost nervously, thumb stroking tentatively across her face, his warm breath filling her nostrils and warming her skin. "I'll get the nurse, Bols," he repeated, voice cracking noticeably; she heard him gulp, felt a moment of hesitance, then he went to stand.

"No!" She whimpered, grappling blindly for his hands and holding his wrists tight. "Use the button, Gene, please don't go! Please I-!"

"Alex!" He interrupted, his breath hitching against her face; she heard him swallow hard, heard his sharp intake of breath, and then he spoke, his tone almost quizzical, tentative; his thumb traced the curve of her eyebrow and she felt herself shiver as his warm smell intoxicated her. "Alex," he murmured again, voice softer now, "look at me..."

"I can't see, Gene!" She panicked again, and she felt him hesitate, apparently uncertain about something, before he spoke softly, his voice almost amused as his thumb traced her eyelid.

"Bols... maybe you should open your eyes..."

"Don't tell me to-!"

"Alex," Gene murmured softly. "They're closed tighter than a Nun's legs in a brothel house; just open your eyes."

"I can't! They won't-!"

"Alex," he whispered, and she was struck by how very close he now sounded, how gentle his touch became; it was soothing, and for a moment the hysteria died away, replaced by total comfort as he spoke softly to her. "Just trust me," he murmured, moving closer; she could feel his hair tickle her face, and then a moment later his lips touched gently to each eyelid in turn, and she shivered, remembering the last time he'd done this, stood at the door of the flat as he kissed her goodbye...

"Look at me," he murmured softly; she was surprised by how soft his voice was, how uncharacteristically fragile, concerned and - for some reason unknown to her – guilty it became... She trembled slightly, trying to blink, feeling her eyelids protest and shaking her head instantly.

"Gene it won't-!"

"Bolly," Gene repeated again, not moving an inch. "Look at me."

Slowly, she felt her eyelids move; they felt heavier than she could ever remember them being, weighing down on her eyes as she attempted to open them slightly; a small crack of light filtered through, burning her irises, and instantly they snapped back together, Alex letting out a gasp of pain as her tear ducts swelled. "Gene, I can't-!"

"Yes you can," he muttered grimly, his hands in her hair, voice sounding tired and agitated. "If you ain't gunna let me get the damn nurse lady, you can snap yer eyes open yerself!"

Alex swallowed, biting her lip slightly as she slowly cracked her eyes open, feeling the burning pain of light against her irises; she was about to close them when Gene's hand covered her eyes, letting small amounts of light trickle through his fingers, but blocking out the majority of the morning sunlight as her eyes adjusted, watering slightly, the pain slowly ebbing away.

After a few moments, he drew his hand away, and Alex looked up into his face, blinking against the blur of tears. The light shone behind his head, causing her to flinch slightly, but although his face was blurred she took comfort, noting the familiar line of his jaw and ruffle of his hair. The colours ran together, blurring his features, but to her he was no less recognizable, and she could feel the smile tugging at her lips as her hand tangled into his soft hair.

"You found me..." she whispered, stroking his cheek and blinking repeatedly as she tried to clear her vision. "You found me..."

Gene seemed to frown, his facial muscles bunching beneath her hand before he spoke. "Wasn't exactly hard, Bols," he muttered dryly. "You weren't exactly runnin' anywhere; yer dropped faster than a prozzie's knickers!"

She nodded, rubbing at her eyes with the back of her hand and taking a deep breath. "Where's Molly?" She asked softly, sniffling slightly. She felt Gene's hand tighten in his hair, heard him start to speak, then think better of it, rephrasing his previous statement as he tentatively spoke.

"I'm gunna get the nurse, Bols," he murmured, moving to draw away. "How about you get yerself some sleep and I'll-!"

"She was here," Alex murmured. "I saw her earlier; she was in the corridor with Ev-"

"Bols," Gene interrupted, his voice slightly cracked; she felt him turn his cheek away, felt his jaw clench, and then he spoke, his voice soft. "They couldn't get hold of 'er; yer file was practically empty except for birth date and somethin' to do with appendicitis..."

"What about Evan?" She asked, shifting slightly. "He's down as my next of kin; they should've called him and-"

"Alex, nobody's down as yer next of kin," he sounded confused, uncertain, and a moment later his hand had moved away from her head, and she could see him turning away, moving towards the door... It was then that her vision cleared, then that she saw the terrifyingly familiar blonde hair as it caught the sun, then that she could see his face clearly, see that the wrinkles she had become accustomed to no longer affected his countenance, and the blue eyes she knew so well, though slightly dulled, were yet to lose their full sparkle.

For a moment, the magnitude of that realization was lost on her, and she took several seconds to realize the implications that came with it; a moment later, she felt a horrible, sickening twist in her stomach, hot tears streaming from her eyes as she shook her head, sobbing loudly. "No!" She protested, hand over her mouth as she shook her head. "No! I didn't want to come back! I wanted Molly! I wanted my daughter!" Her voice rose to a yell, and her hands clenched into tight fists as they grabbed at the bed sheet covering her body. "Send me back! I want to go back! I want to-!"

Gene stepped forwards, shaking his head and reaching out to touch her shoulder, "Alex, I-!"

"GET AWAY FROM ME!" She shrieked, pain searing down her throat as she did so, arms flailing as she pushed him away. "GET OUT! GET OUT!"

Gene drew back, swallowing hard as he watched her, eyes flashing with hurt and confusion; a few moments later, as her screams went on and her tears continued to fall, he left the room, turning sharply on his heel and taking a left down the corridor.

A pair of nurses entered a few minutes later, grabbing flailing limbs and pinning her down as they injected her with a sedative; she let out a last scream of anguish, tears still falling down her face, before she was out cold, and everything went black.


It was dark when she awoke again; her eyelids fluttered open, heavy with sleep, and she was greeted only by the soft glow of her bedside lamp, and the familiar smell of cigarette smoke, coupled with fresh air, and a cool draught that washed across her face. When she turned her head to the right, she caught sight of a large hulking figure, a red-tipped cigarette, and a half-lit face that looked agitated and hurt both at once. Familiar eyes burned into hers, but there was a depth of uncertainty within them that unnerved her, but despite her anger and pain, she couldn't help but be slightly relieved to have him there.

"They tried, Bols," he mumbled before she could speak, his voice gruff and anguished. "She isn't on yer file." He stubbed out his cigarette on the windowsill, tossing the butt from the window and then pulling it shut, settling himself in a wicker chair a few metres from the bed; Alex tried not to think about his newly instated distance as she nodded her head, fighting back tears.

She could feel his eyes on her, feel a wave of concern emanating from him that made her shiver, dragging the sheet slightly higher over herself as she sat up against the pillows; Gene watched silently, taking a swig from his hip flask, and then pocketing it again.

"I was with her," Alex whispered softly; she wasn't sure whether it was aimed at Gene, or simply a clarification for her own purposes, but the words came anyway. "I was home – she was with me..." her shoulders shook as she let out a sob, covering up her mouth. "I could feel her, Gene – she was real! She was real, and I-!"

"Bols?" At some point, he'd stood up, walking forwards and standing at her bedside; she tried to ignore the way his hand reached almost instantly for hers, and felt a brief thrill of warmth before he thought better of his actions, drawing his hand back, clenching instead at the white bed sheet, his eyes turned down as he spoke. "You didn't leave," he mumbled, gulping loudly. "It was just a dre-"

"It wasn't a dream!" Alex whispered sharply, feeling her voice quaver. "It was real, Gene; as real as you are now!" She swallowed suddenly, hit by a proverbial hammer as she began to acknowledge the truth of her own words, feeling an inexplicable pain in her stomach that told her she had had more than one reality – more than just Molly's world...

"Bolly, you didn't go any-!"

"You were there too," she murmured, glancing up into his face and seeing his blue eyes flicker sharply towards hers before he spoke.

"Well now I know you were dreaming!" He muttered, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his cigarettes and lighter, moving to return to the window as he went on. "I think I'd remember meetin' your daughter, Bols, don't you?"

"Not if it hasn't happened yet," Alex answered, watching his face and flinching slightly; his jaw clenched, his mouth set into a thin line, and his eyes flicked sharply to hers as they narrowed, before he shook his head, lighting up a cigarette and speaking roughly.

"You're doped up, Bols," he muttered, taking a long drag and exhaling from the window; she caught the slight, agitated hitch as he breathed out, saw the minor tremor of his hand, but said nothing to inform him of as much, still watching him as he spoke again. "Maybe I should come back tomorrow..."

She felt tears prick at her eyes, saw a slight, almost hopeful look in his eye as he glanced in her direction, but couldn't bring herself to say anything, simply following his movements with her eyes as he lifted the cigarette to his mouth and repeatedly exhaled, his eyes averting out of the window.

After a few minutes, the second cigarette end followed the first, and he grabbed his coat from the back of his chair, swallowing visibly as he glanced back at her, tongue wetting his lips nervously as he hesitated at the side of her bed... He watched her for a few moments, apparently looking to say something before he changed his mind and shook his head.

"Bye, Bols," he mumbled; she could feel the lump in her throat, a lump that refused to go away, her mind muddled as she fought for clarity, for understanding... He surprised her out of her uncertainty by leaning forwards suddenly, his lips brushing across her forehead as his hand cupped her cheek; she leaned into it without thinking at exactly the same second that he seemed to rethink, stilling where he was and swallowing hard.

"Don't jump in front of any more bullets, Bolly," he mumbled, his voice cracking slightly as he tried to keep an undercurrent of guilt from creeping in. "They'll 'ave my bollucks on hooks if you get hurt again."

As he left, Alex felt the tears come, trickling fast down her face and splashing onto the blanket, and when the nurse came in twenty minutes later, she took the sedative without further question, welcoming the dark silence it offered and sinking into it gratefully.


Gene sat in the car, smoking continuously as his eyes remained fixed upon the front door of the hospital, watching numerous people come and go; nurses going off shift, visitors leaving, doctors coming on... He should've been cock-a-hoop, he knew; she'd finally woken up, was finally speaking, breathing, moving... But he wasn't. He didn't know what he'd expected from her in honesty, but to have her scream, shout, flail her arms and then continue on with her futuristic bullshit hadn't been exactly how he'd imagined the event playing out.

He'd expected a slap; thinking about it, he'd have welcomed it as long as he had his Bolly back; hell, he'd probably even relished it... But he hadn't been expecting her to cup his cheek, stroke his hair, and then suddenly scream blue bloody murder like a claustrophobic woman who just realized she was stuck in an elevator... Thinking about it in hindsight, he wasn't really sure why he'd kissed her as he left, except for a horrible force of habit that had become almost compulsive on his visits; frankly he'd been expecting a rebuke, a shove in the stomach, a noise of disgust, but instead he was left doubly confused, because not only had she not drawn away, she'd leaned into him... Leaned into him, right after telling him she'd been to the future with him; any second now, he was half-expecting Doctor Who to pop up in a bright blue telephone box and offer to stop tugging on his sonic and explain it all in terms of atomic structure and molecular – at this point, he had the strangest feeling he might believe it.

He took a deep drag on his cigarette, breathing shakily as he glanced at his watch; he'd told Ray he'd be at Luigi's for nine, and it was already half past... With a grimace, a last drag, and a sigh that was far louder than he'd intended, he turned on the engine and sped back down the street.


"So, what are the Doc's saying?" Ray's interest was obvious, but it didn't stop his hand straying over his Italian lady-friend's arse whilst she practically devoured his neck; Gene turned away with a grimace, downing two whiskeys in quick succession before he spoke.

"She'll be fine," he mumbled, wiping his mouth and gulping slightly as Ray nodded in approval, glancing suggestively at his companion before smirking and excusing himself; Gene tried not to think about what he was doing, particularly when he saw the pair slipping non-too subtly into the toilets.

"Is good news, Signore Hunt, yes?" Luigi's voice was edged with glee and delight, but there was an undercurrent of concern that said Gene's negativity was catching. "You will bring Signorina Drake home soon?"

"Yes, Luigi," Gene murmured, nodding absently and swirling his whiskey in the glass he held. "She'll be back, I'll bugger off, and you can get back to shoving fettuccine down her throat."

"But you aren't happy, Signore?"

"Happy?" Gene grimaced with distaste, nose turning up slightly. "Course I'm not bloody happy!"

"But, Signore Hunt, she is better! She is-!"

Gene didn't hear the rest of Luigi's sentence; downing his whiskey, he stood up and left the room, heading up to Alex's flat without consideration.


Alex woke late, her limbs heavy with sleep, eyes droopy, and body tangled in the bed sheets. The room was filled with light, but on looking around, she was disappointed to find herself alone; Gene hadn't returned. She swallowed back a wave of pain, grabbing a pillow and holding it tight to her chest as she watched the clock on the wall tick towards eleven o'clock. Thoughts of Molly occupied her mind, the last sight of her burned into Alex's irises as she bit down hard upon her lip, attempting to quell a fresh wave of tears as the hole in her chest gaped openly.

Why was she here? Alex wondered, jaw trembling. She could have been happy in the future, with Molly, and Evan, and the job... She could have gotten over Gene some day, could have let him go in the knowledge that they'd had their time together, that they'd been happy... Couldn't she? Surely after a while, it would have been bearable, she'd have met someone else, loved someone else... Wouldn't she? Molly needed her; Molly had always needed her... And she had seen that Gene could live without her...

But then, why was she here? If life would have been so good with Molly, if she could have survived without Gene, why had she collapsed? Why had she heard him screaming, felt his pain, felt as though the world was ending? She'd been healthy; there was no reason for her to die – the Doctors had given her the all clear weeks beforehand, told her she'd be fit, healthy and back to work within a month...

And now she was here, alone, stuck in a hospital bed and without her daughter, terrified too that Gene could never feel that way again, that whatever they would have shared in the future would have to remain a distant piece of her past...

Tears welled in her eyes, throat tightening and breath hitching as she bit back a harsh sob; somehow, in the space of a few days, she had lost her daughter, her lover and her godfather – even here, in this other world that made no obvious sense whatsoever, she couldn't be with Gene... Because Gene couldn't believe in the future, because this Gene hadn't been there; and it wasn't difficult to understand his frustration, his anger, his betrayal – not really, not in all honesty - but still she was struck by an aching pain in her chest, unable to contain the simple knowledge that things were different now, that they wouldn't be the same again...

It was heartbreaking enough to be alone without her daughter, painful enough to think she couldn't watch her grow and live and love, but to know that she faced a future without even the smallest shred of that which she had known, longed for, believed in...

She shuddered, biting back a shuddering gasp, and then reaching for the sick-bag on her bedside table.


When Gene came by that night, Alex was dozing, exhausted after a day of grieving and crying that left her face stained and blotchy; he looked awful, drained, and, if she wasn't mistaken, a little drunk. His tie was askew, shirt untucked, blazer torn, and he stank of smoke and alcohol to a level that was impressive even for him. He sank into the chair at her bedside without a word, both hands shoved awkwardly into his pockets as he looked at her; she didn't fail to notice the way his eyes refused to meet her own, but she was relieved to see him all the same.

"You look like hell, Bols," he mumbled, swallowing slightly; she sniffed slightly, scanning him with her eyes and smiling to herself.

"You don't look like a million dollars yourself," she murmured back, wetting her lips and shifting her hand slightly closer to the side of the bed, silently pleading with him to take it; if he noticed, he made no sign, and simply nodded to himself.

After a few moments, Alex spoke again, attempting to keep the crack from her voice as she did so. "Bad day, was it?" She whispered, biting her lip; he nodded, opening his mouth to speak, before thinking better of it and standing up. A moment later he was at the window, cigarette between his lips and smoke drifting slightly in the breeze as he exhaled shakily.

"It ain't the same anymore, Bols," he said eventually, taking another drag on his cigarette. "It's all movin' on; new DI, Chris and Shaz gettin' married, Ray shackin' up with some Italian bird with a-!"

"I meant to ask you about that!" Alex interrupted, feeling the smile on her face as she shook her head slightly. "You said something about him getting her pregnant, and I forgot to ask anything further, but-!"

"Pregnant?" Gene frowned, eyebrows flying up his forehead and voice etched with disbelief. "He's not Einstein or anything, Bols, but he ain't stupid enough to let his meat hang unpacked an' shag her up the duff!"

Ignoring his crassness, Alex shook her head. "But you said he was-!"

"Bols, I think I'd remember if Ray was about to spawn mini-permed buggers, don't you?" He took another drag on his cigarette, shaking his head slightly and exhaling loudly. Alex watched him for a moment, and then nodded, speaking softly to herself.

"Of course... it might not have happened yet; it might be in the future... it might be now..." She trailed off, seeing the grimace of pained frustration on Gene's face and wondering what was going through his mind... She said nothing more, half-wondering if she had said too much, watching him carefully as he kept smoking and waiting for him to speak...

After a minute or so, he leaned against the windowsill, looking out through the window as he spoke, apparently ignoring her last comment as he breathed slowly. "S'all different now," he mumbled again, almost to himself. "You're in 'ere, they're all shaggin' like rabbits in heat, an' I'm lumbered 'ere because-" He stopped suddenly, gulping hard and shaking his head.

Alex felt a horrible wave of pain crest over her, but she hid it, speaking softly to him and hoping he would grant her an answer. "Because what, Gene?" She whispered, waiting quietly; he shifted uncomfortably, apparently battling with himself, before opting to remain silent; she spoke again, slightly softer. "Because of me?" She whispered. "Is it my-?"

"No," he answered swiftly, shaking his head and swallowing back guilt. "No, it's not you..."

Alex bit her lip, waiting a moment, then speaking again. "Then what-?"

"It doesn't matter," he mumbled. "Had too much to drink; I'm just spouting rubbish."

"You're not," she whispered, shaking her head and feeling her lip tremble. "And it matters; please, Gene... please, tell me..."

Her voice was pleading and he turned away, his head hanging slightly as he looked the other way. For a while, she thought he was going to leave; his shoulders were rigid, knuckles white as he leant against the windowsill, jaw clenched firmly... Then he spoke, voice gruff, awkward and, beneath it all, almost hurt...

"It's been three months, Alex," he murmured, shaking his head. "Three months of you, lyin' there like a corpse, me thinkin' I killed you, the others wonderin' if it was deliberate... an' now you wake up an' stick to that bollucks about the future, start tellin' me I've said things that I haven't said yet..." He trailed off, swallowing hard and gritting his teeth.

"Y'know, I convinced myself fer a while that you were trying to protect me," he murmured, looking at her almost sadly, his eyes nearly vulnerable. "Thought maybe you were worried, thought I was rotten... But you're still sticking to it, Alex; an' now I'm wondering if all your psychiatrical bollucks isn't just some huge cover up fer the fact that you're as fucked up as the rest of them!"

"Gene, please, I'm not mad! I'm just-!"

"Just what, Alex?" He snapped, swallowing hard and shaking his head. "What are you, if you're not mad? Doctor Who's fictional, Bolly, and the sooner you get your head around it the better!" He was halfway across the room by the time Alex spoke, her voice panicked and desperate, catching in her throat.

"Gene, please, please, I'm not mad! I really, really am from the future; I really-!"

He was nearly at the door, hand on the doorknob, and she spoke again, shaking her head. "You're staying in my flat!" He didn't stop, and, in a desperate bid to make him understand, she blurted out the only thing she could think of; "you've got a white scar on your left thigh from getting shot up in Manchester." He froze suddenly in his tracks, but she didn't stop, feeling her voice quaver as she went on.

"You've got a birthmark under your hairline that you used to think was a brain tumour, but then your Mum convinced you that it couldn't be one, because you'd need to have a brain..."

His head turned towards her, eyes confused and uncertain, but Alex still didn't stop, instantly seeking out all of the truths he had shared with her, all of the small details that had changed everything...

"You're ticklish behind your right knee," she went on. "Your second toe's bigger than your first; you only like one song by Rod Stewart, and that's only because it – because it reminds you of me..." She swallowed, watching his face for a reaction and waiting as he opened his mouth several times, closing it again when words failed.

Eventually he spoke, voice soft. "How do you know?"

"You told me."

"In the future?" He muttered coldly, voice unbelieving.

"Yes," she whispered, nodding slightly. "How would I know all that if it hadn't happened? You haven't told anyone else ..."

Gene swallowed, shaking his head. "You don't know that..."

"You told me," she said softly, eyes stinging as she watched him. "And I believed you..."

He stood still, apparently wracked with uncertainty and indecision, before he nodded slowly, glancing up at her, then lighting up another cigarette in the middle of the room; she didn't bother to scold him. "Say I believe you," he murmured, wetting his lips and swallowing hard. "Which I don't... but – but say I did - what else did I tell you?"

"You told me you looked for my letter after I left, but you never read it; it was under the video player..." He nodded, but he didn't seem overly impressed.

"You told me you missed me," she added, wetting her lips; he shifted uncomfortably, but said nothing, even as he watched tears spill from the corners of her eyes. "And you said that you didn't love me, because- because you'd never had the chance..."

Again he looked uncomfortable, and Alex slipped shakily from the bed as he averted his eyes, walking over on legs that trembled and standing close enough to him that she could smell his breath; he looked at her in alarm as she reached him, but a moment later she was speaking, her voice slightly uneven. "You keep my warrant card in your left breast pocket," she whispered, one hand on his shoulder to steady herself, the other slipping gently across his chest and into his blazer, hand closing around the warm leather that she found there and drawing it gently out; Gene's breath hitched slightly, she felt the warmth of his breath and smelt the tangible hint of whiskey, and a moment later she'd flipped open the leather wallet to reveal her own face. Looking up, she found Gene's piercing blue eyes fixated upon her face, and a second later he'd turned her around, pressing her gently into the wall as his hands cupped her cheeks, his breath hitching and uneven as it touched her face.

"Why?" He murmured softly, eyes intense; for a second, Alex hesitated, shaking her head, but then he spoke again, pressing her slightly harder, hands tightening on her face. "Why would I tell you that?"

For a moment she couldn't speak; despite the cigarettes and the alcohol, his smell was intoxicating, and the touch of his hand on her face sent shivers down her spine, lip trembling as his eyes locked on hers... Then he seemed to falter, glancing down at her as if fearful, as though suddenly realizing that he had pushed her, that she was just out of bed and pressed into a wall with him demanding answers...

Then she felt him hesitate and her hand was on his, holding it in place as she spoke, her voice breaking and trembling. "We were- we met, again and we- we were close, Gene... We were close... closer than we've ever been..."

"How?" He whispered, swallowing hard. "How'd you mean?"

"It just happened," she whispered softly. "We just happened... and things just came out in conversation, Gene... Please believe me..."

"You could've been dreaming," he mumbled. "You could've heard me say things, do things... It doesn't mean you-"

"It does," she whispered. "How would I know about this?" Her fingers sought his hair, pushing it aside and tenderly touching one finger to the birthmark as she pulled his head towards her. "You don't talk about this with anyone..."

"Alex, you can't be from-!"

"I am," she promised softly. "It- it can't be our future anymore because I'm here now, but it was our future; it was your future, too, Gene, until I woke up..."

"I'm going to get a Doctor, Alex," he whispered, voice cracking as he turned his eyes away. "Them drugs are makin' you-"

He was cut off as Alex pressed her mouth to his, kissing him with a fierce desperation that knocked the breath from his lungs; her hand tangled into his hair, her lips sucked gently at his own and he froze at the sense of familiarity with which she kissed him, as though she'd done it before... Because how was she doing this? She couldn't possibly know that he liked having his hair gently tugged and twirled as she kissed him, or that he found it unreasonably sexy for her to suck on his lower lip before she pushed her tongue into his mouth... She couldn't know that his whole body thrummed with delight when her hand slipped beneath the collar of his shirt and stroked across his shoulder blades, or that he shivered when her fingers stroked behind the shell of his ear...

Without really thinking, and against his better judgement, he kissed her back.


You didn't expect it to be all roses when she woke up did you? :p

Hope this chapter was alright, and enjoy the final ever ep tomorrow night! Here's hoping for a Galexy party!

Mage of the Heart