Title: Hidden Desires

Author: Phoenix

Email Address: sphinx@iinet.net.au

Status: Complete

Fandom: CI5 - The New Professionals

Pairing: Sam/Chris

Rating: PG-13

Spoilers: For the pilot ep 'Back to Business'

Archive: Yes

Disclaimers: Standard

Please send any comments, complains, or corrections to sphinx@iinet.net.au

Not that I'm begging here. If I was begging I would be on my knees...Wait a second...(looking down)...(looking up)...(shrugging)...Okay I'm begging. :)

Warning: Contains actual dialogue from the pilot episode (did you really think I could write something that bad?!). All complaints should be sent to Brian Clemens, not me! *grin*

Many thanks and chocolate CI5 agents to Claire, my wonderful beta-reader. And to Pathos, who helped me out when I got writer's block. Thanks, babe. :)



Hidden Desires
by Phoenix

Sam Curtis, ex-MI6, top CI5 agent, ruthless with his enemies and unshakable in a crisis, was scared.

And it wasn't the type of fear agents feel before a mission either. The type that heightens the senses, gets the adrenaline pumping, and makes your body come alive. The type that focuses your attention only on the objectives of the mission. Sam was intimately familiar with that reaction, having been on countless incursions into friendly and not-so-friendly territories.

No, this was the debilitating, heart-thumping, gut-clenching fear that refused to vanish even after the threat had been successfully overcome.

Rationally he knew that the danger had passed that and his partner, Chris Keel, was safe. But his heart-rate and breathing wasn't listening to his mind. They were still accelerated, almost to the point of hyperventilation. And his stomach was still clenched in a hard ball at the thought of what might have happened. The simple fact was that they'd been lucky -- the car hadn't blown up. And he was even luckier still not to lose his partner in a fireball of plastic explosive and heated gases.

"I am calm," he muttered to himself. "Chris is fine. He's still alive. No one died."

How he made it through the debriefing afterwards with his boss, Malone, he'd never know. But he'd obviously given the right responses because no one had commented on his outward demeanour, even though inside he was still quivering from the residual fear and emotions like a jellyfish.

He did have enough presence of mind though to commend Backup on her actions. Without a third person there, the story might have ended very differently. Preventing Chris from sitting down in the rigged car-seat had been more important to him at the time than providing Base with a running commentary and images of the car undercarriage. They didn't know if the bomb had a trembler switch or was wired to a timer, and frankly, at that moment, he really didn't care which it was. His whole world had narrowed down to the hand clasped in his own, the knuckles white with tension, as he counterbalanced his partner. Their eyes had met and held, both conveying trust and determination. Sam was adamant that he wasn't going to leave Chris to blow up in a million pieces, while Chris was equally adamant that Sam and Backup retreat to a safe distance. Equally stubborn, they had grimly smiled and held on to each other with all their strength.

Sam shook his head. The past was the past now. They had both survived and that was all that mattered.

After the debriefing, Malone had sent them home to get some sleep. After checking out the catering firm, and not wanting to let his partner out of his sight after what had so nearly happened, Sam had followed Keel back to his apartment rather than heading for his own. Entering the apartment for the first time, he stared in amazement at the dirty dishes stacked on the table and the general disarray of the place. He knew he was a cleanliness freak himself, but even other people had to have some sort of standards.

"God, Chris, you're a slob."

Chris pulled a face at him. "My housekeeper died," he retorted as he sorted through a handful of mail.

Sam wrinkled his nose in disgust as he caught a whiff of something better not identified. "Pigs live better than this!"

"Well, in some people's eyes I am a pig. You know, a cop -- a pig, and all that."

Forgetting the mess, Sam narrowed his eyes as he caught his partner's serious tone. "We're not cops," he stated flatly.

"Sometimes I don't know what we are anymore. Cops...clean-up men...legalised thugs..."

The words hung in the air for a moment. Inwardly, Sam was concerned. Where on earth was this coming from? Was Chris tiring of CI5? Was he thinking of leaving?

"Try 'bastions of freedom and justice'," he eventually replied flippantly with a grin in an effort to lighten the sombre mood that had fallen over his partner.

His remark was received with a wry smile. "Well, you might be a bit of a bastion, but me, I've got to get some shuteye. Just an hour." Hearing the siren call of his bed, Chris yawned as he headed into his room, leaving Curtis to his own devices.

Grabbing a beer from Chris' fridge, Sam wandered around, finally coming to a stop in front of huge bay windows. Through the clear glass, he saw the rows and rows of graves with their stark impersonal headstones. He suppressed a shudder at the thought of Chris ending up like that. Somewhere along the line, his new partner had filled the empty hole in his life and became his best friend. His partner. And the man he loved.

Even now he could hardly believe it -- the feelings having crept up on him unaware. Until one Chris Keel, fellow CI5 agent, had ensconced himself in Sam's heart without any warning and nothing had ever been the same again. Some days he felt like laughing with joy at the overwhelming love that swelled within him whenever he looked at his friend. Other days he could cry at the futility of it all. Chris was blind to the warmth with which Sam held him. The man was ex-Navy SEAL for christ's sake. They don't come any straighter than that. Sam sighed. It might as well be his heart buried out there in the graveyard. Turning away from the window, he called out to Chris in the other room.

"Hey, nice view, Chris."

The muffled voice from the bedroom could barely be heard. "Thanks."

"Much noise from the neighbours?" Sam teased as he walked towards the bedroom. A CD sitting on the stereo caught his attention, and he picked it up to look at the songs listed, accidentally knocking over an empty pizza box in the process. He winced as it hit the floor with a loud thud.

Chris' exasperated voice could be heard clearly from the other room. "Sam, aren't you tired? You've been up all night."

Hurriedly picking the box up again, he restored it to its precarious perch, only then noticing the photo frame sitting nearby. He lifted it up to the light. "You have to pace yourself. Learn to relax," he replied almost absentmindedly as he studied the object in his hands. The photo showed Chris in full Navy uniform, a beautiful woman standing next to him, and an older man standing on the other side.

"Like you?"

"Yeah, like me." Sam hesitated before asking what he wanted to know. The best case scenario would be that the woman was Chris' sister. The worst case scenario would be that the woman was some very important ex-girlfriend, possibly recent and possibly still around. "Hey, who's the girl? Now if this is your sister and you've been keeping her from me..." he joked, trailing off.

"She's not my sister."

Strike the best case scenario.

Feeling the need to know, Sam tried guessing again, morbid curiosity getting the better of him. Taking the photo with him, he entered the bedroom. "Hmmm...a prom queen, huh? The first and most dynamic love of your life?"

"That's right," Chris answered, taking the photo from him and placing it next to his bed. "She was my wife," he stated flatly.

"Your wife?" Sam was taken aback, not having considered that possibility, and not sure that he'd even heard his partner correctly. "I didn't know you were married."

Despite his best intentions, he felt the seed of jealousy grow in his chest. Ruthlessly he squashed it. So Chris had loved some woman enough to marry her, he obviously wasn't still married now. He might not know his partner's entire life history but he was sure he would have noticed a wife hanging around.

"There's a lot of things you don't know about me, Curtis. Lot of things I don't know about you. Now shut up and let me get some sleep, will ya."

"Hey, my life's an open book," Sam protested defensively.

"Well, let's read that one another day, shall we?" Chris lay down again and pointedly closed his eyes.

Feeling inexplicably hurt at the casual dismissal and still reeling from Chris' unexpected announcement, Sam wandered back into the lounge room, taking a swig of his beer as he went. Ending up back in front of the stereo, he selected the CD function, preferring some music to his own lonely thoughts. But a cacophony of sound blasted out of the speakers. Normally, Sam found Mozart relaxing to listen to, just not at 70 decibels. And certainly not when his partner was trying to sleep in the next room. Fumbling with the volume control, he turned the level down to something acceptable and then smiled sheepishly at Chris from the doorway. "Well, I guess you're not all slob."

Chris smiled, amused at his partner's antics. "Good night."

While Chris slept, Sam continued wandering around the apartment. Peering into the fridge, he helped himself to a sandwich and another beer and went and sat on the couch. After flicking through all the magazines lying around, he spotted a photo-album on the shelf of a bookcase across the room. Pulling it out, he started looking through the pages. They were mostly old photos of a family doing the usual sort of thing -- on holidays, washing cars, formal dinner occasions.

Then Sam saw a photo of a young boy standing outside a house. He was dressed in a school uniform, with a slightly nervous look upon his face. Sam smiled and pulled the photo out of the album to check the back. Sure enough, the words 'Chris. First day at school' were written in a scrawl.

Sam studied the picture, wondering what Chris was like at that age. He could see him being the intelligent, funny little kid that everyone liked. Kind of like the present-day Chris. Only shorter. Replacing the picture, Sam continued flicking the pages. There were lots of Chris at all ages growing up, a number of them being official school class photos. There was even one showing Chris' final year prom. Already he could see the maturity developing in the face before him. And in a tuxedo, his friend looked stunning. Sam made a mental note to set up an occasion for his partner to get dressed in a tux again.

Finally reaching the end of the album, he rose to put it back on the bookshelf. With surprise, he saw that the room had grown considerably darker and that a lot more time had passed than he had realised. Glancing at his watch, he groaned when the hands showed that nearly three hours had passed, after he had earlier promised Chris he'd wake him after only an hour.

Entering the bedroom quietly, he crept up to the bed, hoping that his failure to awaken him after an hour wouldn't be commented on. Every thought of his partner's reaction went straight out of his head though when he saw Chris lying fast asleep. He had a black turtleneck on, having gone to bed fully dressed. But for once, his face had lost the hard and serious look that indicated the sharp mind of a CI5 agent. Instead he looked ridiculously young and more vulnerable than his 28 years.

His skin glowed like alabaster in the moonlight from the window, removing all traces of tiredness and strain. Transfixed by the vision before him, Sam stared, drinking in the sight -- free from the usual fear of being caught. His eyes wandered down the planes of the open face before him, admiring the perfect symmetry of the closed almond-shaped eyes and high cheekbones, before following the line of the jaw and throat, down to where the turtleneck started. Chris had pushed down the bedding while asleep, leaving it tangled around his waist. Even through the turtleneck, Sam could see the outline of the pectoral muscles and flat plane of the stomach. He swallowed, his heart beating fast. Sitting gently on the side of the bed, he reached out a hand to touch the smooth brow, fingers hovering only centimetres above the pale skin.

At that moment Chris sighed and shifted in the bed. Sam snatched back his hand as though burnt, suddenly aware of what he had nearly done. Fantasising about one's gorgeous partner was acceptable in his books, but touching them while they were asleep was an unforgivable breach of trust. What if Chris had woken up? How would he explain caressing his face?

Settling back on the covers, Sam continued watching the Keel's face, unable to prevent himself from taking this opportunity.

Chris, oblivious to the presence of the other man, shifted again as his dream transported him to his wedding day.

//The scene was as vivid as if it were yesterday. The beautiful outdoor setting, the trestles covered in pure white tablecloths with glasses sparkling in the sunlight, the guests milling around. And yet, that was all peripheral at the time. Having said his vows only a few hours earlier, Chris was completely enamoured with his wife. Dressed in embroidered ivory, Teresa had looked stunning. His heart almost couldn't believe that she was his and that they would be spending the rest of their lives together.

Leaning in, he stole a kiss, feeling drunk with happiness as her arms came up around this neck and she returned his love and passion ten-fold. It was the stuff of fairytales. Pulling back, he smiled.

But then the scene metamorphosed into something dark and ugly. The barrage of bullets had come out of nowhere, destroying forever all his dreams and shattering his heart into broken shards. Havoc reigned as guests fled screaming, others simply fell where they stood, a river of red staining the grass.

Chris looked down at his hands in horror as they became covered in Teresa's blood.

"No! God, no!"

Clasping his wife closely to his body, he gently lowered her to the ground, unable to look at the gaping wounds that now lay exposed by her torn wedding gown. Eyes filling with tears of pain and loss, he cradled her head.

"No...no...."//

Sam watched the sleeping man with concern as his movements became more restless. The concern deepened when his partner moaned low in his throat, tossing his head from side to side.

Realising that Chris was in the throes of a nightmare, having had more than one himself after a particularly bad mission, he put a hand on Chris' shoulder and shook him gently.

"Hey, mate, wake up."

There was no response, only a heart-rending rob as the sleeping man wrapped his arms around himself.

Leaning forward, Sam could just make out the mumbled words.

"Don't leave me! I love you..."

Feeling his anger mount at this unknown woman who had so obviously hurt his partner, Sam banked it down and tried once again to wake Chris. Moving closer, he narrowly missed being hit in the face when the younger man sat bolt upright, the sweat glistening on his face. Looking wildly around in the partial darkness, Chris ran a hand through his short spiky hair.

Sam placed a hand on his shoulder, "Hey, you alright?" He kept his voice low and soothing until Keel had a chance to orient himself once again. Unable to help himself, he made circular movements with his thumb, allowing himself the luxury of being able to give this small amount of physical comfort when all he wanted to do was gather the still trembling man in his arms and never let him go.

Chris gave a shuddering sigh before reaching over to his bedside lamp and banishing the darkness with a pool of warm yellow light.

"Dreaming," he stated shortly, hoping that his friend would drop the issue.

"That wasn't dreaming. That was punishment," Sam ground out in reply. Once again, his being surged with protectiveness at the thought of what the mystery woman had done to cause Chris to have nightmares. If she had been in the room at that very moment, he would have cheerfully pulled out his gun and shot her.

"What time is it?" Chris asked, adroitly changed the subject.

"It's late. You wanted one hour, I gave you three." Sam paused before continuing, concern for his partner making him pursue the topic. "You alright?"

"Yeah."

"You want to talk about it?"

"No, I don't." The tone was cold and dismissive.

"Maybe I could help," Sam offered.

"With what? Bringing back the dead?" Chris asked harshly, the nightmare still fresh in his mind. The moment of silence stretched. Seeing the expression on his partner's face, Keel bit back the brusque words hovering on the edge of his tongue. He shouldn't let his past affect his present. Feeling ashamed of his outburst, he muttered an apology.

"Sorry."

Sam looked away, saying nothing. He wanted to help but not if it meant fighting for the information every step of the way. Clams had more practice at verbalisation than his partner when it came to emotional issues. He was deceiving himself if he thought he was special enough for Chris to overcome that self-imposed barrier.

Shoulders slumping in disappointment, Sam made a move to stand up. Time was passing and they needed to get back to the case. There was something about the woman's phone call to a hair-salon that was niggling at his professional attention. Mind already switched over to work-related matters, it was a few seconds before he realised that a hand on his arm was preventing him from getting up.

Glancing at his partner, he met eyes filled with remorse, and not a little bit of fear.

"Don't go. Please."

He nodded silently, settling himself back down on the edge of the bed.

Chris took a deep breath, his hand still lingering on the welcome warmth of Sam's arm. The solid reality of it forcing the nightmare back into its dark box until the next time sleep eradicated the walls of repression.

"I'm sorry, Sam. I didn't mean to take it out on you. I just get frustrated. It happened 5 years ago...Why can't I get over it?!"

A hand thumping a pillow emphasised his point.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Sam repeated his offer, more hopeful this time that he'd find out what was tormenting his friend.

Chris ran a hand through his hair again, making it even more spiky than before. Sam resisted the urge to smooth it down again.

"It's my wedding day," Keel began in a low voice, eyes downcast. "Teresa and I are at the reception and everybody is there. All my relatives. Even my father got leave from the Navy so he could attend." He smiled wistfully. "We'd had a falling out a couple of years earlier over my decision to join the Navy SEALs. He thought it was too dangerous and never approved. But he was proud of me that day. I could see it in his eyes."

Sam made an encouraging murmur when Chris' voice trailed away, not wanting to make any comment in case he interrupted the flow of memories.

"We were cutting the wedding cake," Chris began again almost briskly, wanting to get the story over and done with. "When suddenly there was gunfire -- semi-automatic with possibly 5 or 6 shooters."

"People were screaming, it was total mayhem. And there was blood." He shuddered. "So much blood. It was all over me."

Sam moved closer to offer his physical presence as a buffer between Chris and his demons.

"Everyone I loved in the world, died that day. Teresa. My parents." He paused, "Except me. It was obviously not random violence. I don't know why my family was specifically targeted, but they were. And yet they left me alive." His voice became tinged with bitterness. "Sometimes I wish they *had* killed me. It would have been easier than waking up to grief every day of my life. Better than seeing Teresa die in my dreams over and over again." Chris bowed his head, effectively shut off from the world by his remembered loss.

Sam could empathise. He's lost friends before. Not family per se, but brothers-in-arms, blown away during missions that had gone wrong right from the start. A number of times over his years in the British Secret Service, he'd been unable to sleep for wondering why he had lived while the men standing beside him had perished in a hail of hot flying metal. Wondering why the powers that be had spared him and had taken friends more deserving of life. And each time he had concluded that there was no reason. There was no grand plan. Life was unfair and you were just plain unlucky if you were in the wrong place at the wrong time. All you could do was accept it and move on with your life. And maybe, just maybe, live your life a little better because of the memory of those who had lost theirs.

"I'm sorry, Chris. I had no idea," Sam began awkwardly, at a loss at how to express his thoughts to the closed off man in front of him. He received a crooked smile in return for his efforts.

"Hey, it was a long time ago now. I survived. I guess I just wanted to share..." Chris gave a self-conscious laugh, "Hell, I don't know. I'm not very good at letting people in. But you're my partner and my best friend. I wanted to explain."

Sam felt his heart warm at the admission. It wasn't anywhere near the feelings he wanted Chris to have towards him, but he would take whatever he could get. He smiled at his friend, who, obviously uncomfortable with the conversation, had started picking at the hapless sheets. Wanting to save him any further embarrassment, Sam changed the topic.

"Has there been anyone else since Teresa?"

Chris looked startled for a minute, but then relaxed. "Yeah, a few. They didn't last very long, especially with the job pulling me away at all hours. Women prefer guys who can be there for them."

"So no one special then?"

To Sam's surprise, Chris coloured and looked away. "No."

"There is?" Sam blurted out, shocked.

The CI5 agent felt like he had been punched in the gut. There was somebody special? Masking his surprise, he swallowed. Had he missed some sign? Casting his mind back over the last couple of months, he could recall no particular woman. He wished he could be happy for Chris and whomever it was he had feelings for, but he found, much to his shame, that he wasn't that noble.

"No, no, there isn't." Chris still wouldn't meet his eyes.

Sam narrowed his eyes as he rallied his stunned brain-cells into forming a coherent q uestion. "You can't fool me, Keel," he forced out through a clenched jaw, jealousy making his statement harsher than he had intended. "Is it someone in CI5? Is it Backup?" he persisted, wanting to know who had captured his partner's heart, and having some wild half-formed idea of competing for Chris' attention.

Keel sighed, realising that his partner wasn't going to give up.

"No, it's not Backup. But it is someone I work with."

"Who?" v "It's not important, ok? They don't even know how I feel. Now let's get back to the case." Desperate to end the conversation before he said something he was sure he'd regret, Chris flung back the covers and started swinging his legs out of the bed.

"No! I want to know. Tell me!"

Prevented from getting up by the hands tightly gripping his arms, Chris stared in disbelief at his partner. The usually unruffled agent 3.7 was pale and tense, only his eyes alight with what Chris could only describe as anger. Unsure about what was happening, he stared back mutely at Sam, wondering what the hell his friend had cause to be angry about.

On his part, Sam was rapidly losing control of the situation and his emotions. The thought of Chris with someone else, despite all his intentions to remain objective, was driving him insane.

"Dammit! What about me?"

"You?" Chris repeated blankly. Under any other circumstances, his expression would have made Sam laugh.

"Yes, me!" he growled, before doing what he had dreamt about for the last year. With one swift movement, he captured his partner's lips with his own. His vice-like grip on Chris' arms relaxing and turning into gentle caresses, as he deepened the kiss. It was more incredible than he had dreamed -- the taste, the texture, the fact it was Chris he was kissing. Sam's head spun with it all for some heady moments before he realised that Chris was absolutely still beneath him.

With a groan, Sam tore himself away and sat on the bed shaking with suppressed passion and guilt. He had lost himself in his partner to the extent that all other thoughts had fled. All the logical reasons he shouldn't have done what he just did had melted away with the first touch of Chris' lips. But now they came crowding back, each one clamouring for attention.

"Oh god, Chris. I'm sorry," Sam said heavily, head bowed, not daring to look at his friend. "I shouldn't have done that. I promise you it won't happen again."

There was dead silence for a minute, then the rustling of linen being moved. Sam shrank in on himself, not wanting to watch Chris walk away from him in disgust. Hoping that what had happened would not affect the partnership to the extent that they would be reassigned new partners.

Focused on the possible dire consequences of his actions, he nearly jumped off the bed in surprise when he felt the brush of a kiss on the exposed nape of his neck. Snapping his head around, he met the decidedly mischievous eyes of his partner.

"What are you doing?" Sam turned the rest of his body around to face his partner.

"I thought we were finally talking." This statement was accompanied by a blush. "Well, maybe not 'talking' as such, but speaking through actions." Chris smiled and leaned in to kiss Sam again. But was stopped a mere inch away from his goal.

"Are you sure this is what you want? It's not some misguided sense of pity or obligation, is it?" Having his dearest wish within his reach, Sam was suddenly suspicious -- the old adage of 'too good to be true' crossing his mind. "You weren't exactly kissing me back last time. I got the impression that you didn't want this."

Chris had the grace to look sheepish. "It was so unexpected, that I was scared to move in case it was all a dream." He blushed again. "Silly, I know."

Sam's face showed his doubt. "I won't lie to you. This isn't just a fling for me. I want everything -- the love, the commitment, the 'until death do we part' stuff." His tone became possessive. "Which means not sharing you with anyone else. What about this 'special person' you have?" It was only with extreme self-control that he was able to keep his feelings of jealousy out of the question.

The smile that spread over his partner's face was almost serene. "Ask me again."

"Ask you what?"

"Who it is, you dolt!" Affection gave way to exasperation.

"Oh." Sam braced himself for the answer. "Who is it?"

"It's you."

Receiving no resistance from the stunned man in front of him, Chris kissed him like he had wanted to do before, not holding anything back.

Breaking free of his inertia, Sam responded by wrapping his arms around the younger man and kissing him back hungrily. His lingering doubts fading under the heat of the kiss. Only a decided need for air finally broke them apart. Sam smiled softly as he saw the look on Chris' face so close to his own. He dipped his head back in for another kiss, this one softer, slower, allowing him to savour the knowledge that his feelings were in fact mutual.

Sam's protestations as Chris pulled away, soon turned to moans of pleasure as his partner proceeded to lick his way from Sam's ear to his neck and then onto the opening of his shirt. Growling in frustration as the shirt stopped him from going any further, Chris took matters into his own hands and began to unbuckle the gun holster that Sam still wore.

"The shirt has got to go," Chris muttered as his hands turned his words into action.

Sam moved to help and soon the shirt was pooled on the floor, forgotten by both. Murmuring his approval of the now naked chest in front of him, Chris quickly resumed his journey across the smooth expanse, gaining confidence in response to Sam's shivers of delight. Not satisfied with just sitting still, Sam tugged at Chris, pulling him upwards once more so that their lips could meet. Stopping just long enough to divest Chris of his black turtleneck and shoulder holster, the two men continued to explore each other, exulting in the fact that what had been so long denied, was now reality.

His whole body on fire, Sam pressed Chris back onto the bed and proceeded to kiss and lick every inch of skin in front of him until he had his partner gasping and writhing beneath him. Revelling in each moan and sound he was extracting from his usually quiet friend, Sam allowed his hands to wander freely, more often than not simply following his mouth, as he continued to pay homage to the man in his arms.

So engrossed were they both in the overwhelming sensations, that they almost missed the phone ringing next to the bed. The unwanted sound finally impinged on Chris's consciousness.

"Sam, stop," he panted breathlessly as he tried to sit up.

"Why?" came the muffled question somewhere near his navel.

"The phone's ringing."

"Let it ring!"

"I can't. It's probably Backup wondering how our hour's rest has turned into..." Chris glanced at the luminescent clock next to the bed, and winced. "...over three hours."

Sam raised his dark head, and grinned at his partner. "Well, you'd better answer it then."

Distrustful of Sam's smile, Chris waggled a finger at him. "You'd better behave yourself."

"Of course." Sam's innocent expression would have put angels to shame.

Chris gave him one last warning look before picking up the receiver.

"Where the hell are you guys?" Sure enough it was Backup.

"We...err..."Chris stumbled over his explanation before inspiration hit. "We were discussing possible leads for the case and lost track of time."

"For 3 hours?" Backup's tinny voice at the other end was skeptical.

"Yep." Chris put as much assurance into the word as he could.

"So what did you come up with?"

"Not much" he admitted. "But we're going to check out the...the..."

Chris pleaded at Sam with his eyes, knowing his partner had had more time to think over the case while he had been asleep.

Sam snickered and mouthed a silent word back.

"...the hair-selling?"

"What was that?" Backup sounded understandably confused.

Sam rolled his eyes and tried whispering the word this time.

"Sorry about that." Chris glared at his partner laughing silently on his chest, swatting at his head. "I meant, the hair salon."

Sam ducked the playful swipe, the light of battle filling his eyes. He smiled dangerously.

Chris' eyes widened in alarm as he shook his head.

"What hair-salon?"

Watching his partner warily with a deep sense of foreboding, Chris started to explain. "We traced the call from the woman's hotel room and..." He suddenly broke off and almost yelped as Sam lowered his head and slowly licked a nipple.

Keel put his free hand over the receiver. "Stop that!" he hissed.

Sam just returned a smug smile, like a cat that had finally caught the canary, and went back to his task of sucking on the erect nub. Every now and then alternating to Chris' other nipple, and then his navel, before tonguing his way back up the lean torso and starting all over again.

"Keel, are you okay? What's happening?"

"Nothing," Chris gasped out, his body arching beneath the oral assault.

"Something's wrong -- I can hear it in your voice. Is someone there? Shall I send over a backup team?"

"No!" Chris kept himself from shouting by only the smallest shred of sanity, as Sam's mouth continued to drive him out of his mind. "Nothing's wrong."

"Are you sure? It sounds like you're in pain." Backup's voice was becoming more concerned by the moment.

"It's a...it's a..." Chris desperately tried to think something, anything. "It's a muscle cramp."

Even Sam stopped his torture and raised his head at that description, hard put not to laugh. Abandoning his game, he gently calmed the still rippling stomach muscles of Chris' abdomen with soothing hands. Placing a final kiss in the centre of the chest, he shifted to one side of his partner, draping his limbs with casual possessiveness over the other man's body.

Chris gave a half-relieved half-contented sigh, his free hand releasing its convulsive stranglehold grasp of the sheets to move around Sam's shoulders, holding him close. He'd missed the intimate closeness of having someone he loved in his bed, his occasional dating partners never filling his heart, even if they had satisfied his body.

"Chris? Are you still there?"

"What? Oh, sorry, Backup. Yeah, I'm fine. The cramp's stopped now."

A clearly heard snort emanated somewhere near his armpit.

"Who was that? Sam?"

"Yeah, we're together." Chris said, not hearing the double entendre of his words until after they were spoken. A quiet snicker showed that Sam had appreciated the unintentional humour of his words too.

"I know that. You said the two of you were discussing the case, didn't you?" A hint of suspicion entered into Backup's voice again.

"That's right. I did," Chris agreed lamely.

Fortunately, she didn't pursue the issue. "Whereabouts is this hair salon?"

"In the Brixton area."

"Okay. Call in if you find anything. Malone's expecting your report within the hour. Seeya."

"Yeah, seeya." Chris put down the phone, then turned on Sam. "That wasn't funny! What if she'd guessed? Do you want Malone to find out?"

"But she didn't. Anyway, you were enjoying it if the number of times you nearly dropped the phone was any indication."

Chris pulled a face at Sam, before relenting with a grin. "Okay, maybe I did. But I can guarantee that I'm going to enjoy it more without having Backup listening to us." The statement was accompanied by a clear invitation.

"Oh, really," Sam drawled as he moved on top of his partner again, a glint in his eyes.

"Yes, really," Chris declared confidently. He ran his hands up the muscled arms pinning him to the bed, over the strong shoulders, and down the smooth back.

"And what makes you think that I want to continue?" Sam teased.

"Call it intuition..." To emphasise his point, Chris lightly raked his fingers along Sam's back again, not hard enough to hurt but certainly enough to make his meaning felt.

Sam inhaled sharply as the touch caused his skin to tingle, sensation radiating from each individual path being drawn down his back. He trembled as the hands continued up his neck, and gently held his face. Powerless to resist the sensual glow of Chris' eyes, he bent his head and kissed his partner once again. The warm lips met his own with a softness that swiftly turned to passion. Exploring the moist heat of Chris' mouth, and ineffectually trying to merge into the lean frame pressed against him, Sam lowered his body so that they were lying skin to skin. He moaned into the kiss as Chris thrust upwards with his hips, his arousal clearly felt through the denim barrier of the jeans. Feeling his control start to slip, Sam reluctantly pulled away, trapping Chris' wandering hands with his own and keeping them away from further temptation. Waiting until they had both caught their breath and blood-flow had resumed its normal course, he gazed down at his confused partner, revelling in the fact that he could now stare into the much loved face of his partner till his heart's content.

"Why did you stop?" Chris demanded.

"We need to check out the hair-salon."

"You stopped because of *work*?" came the incredulous question.

"Yes...partly."

"And the other part?"

To Chris' infinite amusement, his normally imperturbable partner was obviously embarrassed.

"I don't want our first time together to be...a quick fuck. Malone will be expecting our report soon. And I want to spend longer than that showing you how much I love you." Sam's face finally betrayed him, and he blushed.

"Why, Curtis, I believe there is a romantic soul under that tough agent exterior after all," Chris chuckled. Inside though, he was touched by the older man's admission. With a sudden rush of love, he embraced Sam tightly. "Sorry. I wasn't laughing at you. I feel the same way. Truly."

Sam sighed with relief as he hugged Chris back. He knew he sounded a complete berk uttering such sentimental wishes, but he couldn't help the way he felt. He'd waited too long for this for it to be over in a few frantic minutes.

"Later, okay?" Placing a kiss on the tip of Chris' nose, he levered himself off the bed, rescuing his shirt and holster off the floor before offering his hand to his partner.

Chris grasped the hand and reluctantly pulled himself up to a sitting position. Then watched with regret as Sam put his shirt back on, hiding the firm, toned chest from his sight. The holster quickly followed, Sam checking his gun to make sure the chambers were loaded and that the safety was on.

"I'm going to check the address of the hair-salon while you get dressed. Meet you out the front?" Not waiting for a reply, Sam gave Chris a long, hard kiss and left the room before his resolution faltered.

Chris sat bemused in the now empty room. If he closed his eyes he could still feel the imprint of Sam's kiss on his lips, hear his words echoing in his ears, feel his hands on his skin. It was hard to believe that only that morning he considered himself having a better chance at winning Lotto than the chance of Sam ever returning his feelings. And yet, amazingly they both felt the same way. And had for some time, based on what his partner had admitted. Chris smiled. But there was no more waiting now.

Conscious of the time passing, he shook himself out of his reverie and climbed out of bed. retrieving his gun from under the pillow, he quickly pulled his turtleneck and holster back on and grabbed a jacket. It wasn't until he was reaching to turn off the lamp that the photo of his wife caught his attention. Picking up the frame, he touched her face through the glass. For the first time, he felt no stabbing grief when looking at her picture. Only profound sadness for what was lost. He stared for a minute longer, before putting the photo in the drawer. Then, without a backward glance, he switched off the light and went to join his partner and lover.



The End