False Alarm

I don't own anybody, they are the property of the writers, Kudos, the BBC etc.

Bit of PWP as my first attempt at M-rated writing. Set shortly after 3.2, for reasons which soon become apparent.

A deprived mind.

Alex giggled to herself as she looked in the mirror. She really must have a depraved mind to think up this caper. A plan this brazen could truly only have come on the back of copious amounts of alcohol - two bottles of red liberally spiked with jealousy and seasoned with desire if she was being precise.

The green-eyed monster had started growling the instant that pastel damsel had launched her lips at Gene's. The all enveloping arm he'd curved round Elaine's back had left Alex in no doubt if she didn't act soon Gene would be ringing the number Elaine Downing had patted into his top pocket. The thought of having to spend evenings watching that perfectly preened woman fawn over her Guv had given Alex a sinking feeling in her stomach the like of which she'd not had since she was a teenager.

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Considering the kissing incident, that night Alex's dreams had begun well: Gene - looking even more drop-dead gorgeous than usual (courtesy of a close shave and dark purple open-necked shirt) was wearing that sultry pout that made her just want to kiss his face off.

But the dream had turned when he'd fallen backwards onto a mound of fluffy pink cushions closely followed by Elaine wearing nothing but a sugar sweet smile and a candy pink camisole. Nightmare.

What was even more galling to Alex was that she'd only recently - the night before - dreamt of him, al la Billie Joel, singing 'Uptown Girl' to her. It was this dream which had woken Alex to the fact that, infuriating though he was, Gene was as sexy as hell. And as well as fancying the pants off him (if she was honest) she was just a little in love and in awe of him. Well as much as she was going to admit to herself at the moment.

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Work that day had involved a gruesome murder followed by an emotional trip to inform the relatives, throughout which she'd had to fight the urge to give him a spectacular, and long overdue, demonstration of how he made her feel. But wishing aside, however much she was tempted to she could hardly grab him by the lapels and thrust her tongue down his throat in places like the morgue.

Being in tantalising proximity to the object of her desire; knowing that the time to let him know was running out, had made it a stand out awful day. When she wasn't attempting to concentrate on work (or day-dreaming about ravishing him on the spot) she was continually plagued by images of him and Elaine entwined together.

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The working day ended with beer o'clock at CID's usual, Luigi's.

Alex had sat with the team, toying with the stem of her glass, inwardly sighing. This should have been the time for her to brush her hand close to his thigh, lean in a little closer as he talked, gaze into those beautiful eyes of his, egg him on - but instead Ray was going on about 'that' kiss from 'that' woman.

'Don't know how you did it Guv. Did you see her hands? Skin like silk. Just imagine what hands like them could do to you. Aren't you going to ring her? You're on a promise there.'

She'd cast a look at Gene only to see him fumbling in his top pocket, obviously looking for the phone number. She'd smiled a weak smile that probably did nothing to hide her inner devastation and stood up. Needing a quick escape, she'd mumbled her goodnight.

'Need an early night. Feeling a little bit sick.'

She'd climbed the stairs to her flat battling the tears welling in her eyes. There were two bottles of red in her cupboard and her battered ego had a date with both of them.

By the time she was looking at the bottom of the first bottle of red she'd convinced herself he wouldn't go for Miss Fluffy if only he knew he could have her instead. Christ, she was gorgeous wasn't she? He'd made comment enough times. He was always copping a sly look at her arse or gazing down at her cleavage when he thought she wasn't looking - if only she could let him know how she felt before he went on a date with Elaine.

Half way through the second bottle she'd hatched her plan. The direct approach was best. Men, she told herself, appreciate honesty. Gene, she giggled at the thought, would especially appreciate this kind of honesty. Miss Fluffy could go back to fluffyville: Alex Drake wasn't a detective for nothing. She had ammunition.

TBC