Okay, I had been enjoying up until this point but this was the moment that my inner shipper really sat up and started taking notice of this pairing.
Jesus H. Christ, the way they look at each other. Especially Gene. Talk about eye-sex. This is pure steam on-screen. That look of utterly rapt desire in his purdy blue eyes, all because he has wanted this woman from day fucking one.
Problem is her words are still ringing in his ears, telling him he is a moron if he thinks he can ever, ever have her. His jaw is no doubt still throbbing from where she clobbered him, adding injury to insult. This fascinating, glamorous, frustrating creature just humiliated the crap out of him in front of his men. She lied to him, she tricked him. She wounded the Manc Lion and there is no way he is coming out of his den until he’s licked his wounds, doesn’t matter how great the temptation is. Unwittingly, Alex has made her own bed and it don’t have a Gene Genie in it. She has set in motion a chain-reaction of rejection, the second act of which is his rejection of her here.
Gene is basically on a sure thing here – all he has to do is say what he wants and she’s pretty much promised he can have it. When he rejects her instead, she responds by bedding someone else then flaunting her sexually-satisfied hangover through his squadroom. He retaliates with a lecture on office propriety. She yells at him. He yells louder. She storms out and spends the afternoon insulting his manhood, swanning around in a catsuit and treating Ray like a stripper pole. It is at this point that Gene probably realises he is fantastically out-gunned.
Like the good coppers they are, they call a truce in order to solve their case – a crime that reflects their own feelings of rejected love and lust. Then they adjourn to Luigi’s where they tacitly agree that Alex will sleep with no other men unless they are Gene. Everybody is pleased with this resolution. Including me.