Feedback: Yes please, to alyse@CI5Ops.co.uk. Constructive criticism welcome, flames will be used to melt chocolate, and we all know what I'll do with that :)

Disclaimers: They belong to Brain Clements and David Wickes Productions. They don't belong to me - if they did we all know what they'd be doing. I don't make any money from this. I have nothing but my own warped imagination and therefore I'm not worth suing. :)

Notes: I've had this bunny in my head for months and months but couldn't figure out how to get it into a fic. Finally, I came up with an ending that made it a stand-alone story and I was able to put fingers to keyboard. I'd only written three pages when Keenoled sent me this incredibly inspiring picture that fit in exactly with the ending that I'd settled on. I considered that a form of divine inspiration and had to get cracking on it. With the pic open on my desktop, of course <g>.

Many thanks to my excellent beta Lou, for the eagle eyed spotting of typos, and to Keenoled for inspiration. Thanks also to Jennie for that most interesting titbit she let drop on one of the lists about the London Underground. :)

Truth or Dare

by Alyse

It had sounded such a good idea. In fact, it had been his idea. But then, wasn't that always the way of things? You had a few beers and all of a sudden, ideas that you would normally run screaming from in the light of day seemed like they'd be lots of fun.

Actually, hadn't that been Backup's little cry when he'd first suggested it? "Oh, that sounds like lots of fun!"

Yeah right. Somehow he didn't think she was having as much fun now. Not now that it was her turn.

Schadenfreude was all very well, but the point of this game was that sooner or later it was always your turn.

"Come on, Backup," Spence chided her, the several bottles of beer he'd consumed only resulting in a slight slurring of his voice. "Simple question. You've got to answer it."

From the sigh she let out, Chris guessed that she was regretting choosing 'truth' rather than 'dare', although, looking at Richards' morose face he still believed that she'd made the best of a bad bargain. How on earth Richards was supposed to sneak a pair of used woman's knickers into Malone's desk - never mind where he was supposed to get them from - was anyone's guess. Sam had, very helpfully, suggested that if Richards was that stuck he order some from one of those Japanese companies who seemed to specialise in such things. He didn't know how his partner knew of such things, but then this evening he was coming to realise just how little he did know about his partner.

His partner who was even now leaning back against the sofa in Chris' apartment, a glass of red wine in one hand and a small smile on his face as he watched Backup squirm. It wasn't a malicious smile, just a smile born of companionship and a rare opportunity to let his guard down in the company of friends. Sam seemed to be enjoying tonight immensely, and Chris was beginning to believe that beneath that unruffled surface beat the heart of an exhibitionist.

He sighed heavily. Sam relaxed like this, at ease and tousled was a rare sight and one that, in his borderline inebriated condition, he was ill equipped to deal with. Especially not in an atmosphere made intimate by the various confidences they'd shared. Even now, Sam's smile at Backup was deepening in a way that made the pretty Canadian blush and had Chris' hackles rising, hard as he tried not to show it.

"C'mon, Backup," Sam teased, his accent made heavier by the alcohol he'd consumed although Chris suspected that Sam was the most sober out of all of them. "Just spit it out, girl."

"Maybe she swallows."

The words were Richards' and five frosty pair of eyes settled on the Londoner who subsided, staring sheepishly into his can of Boddingtons. Backup remained glaring at him long after the others had turned their attention back to her, just to make sure that the hacker felt the full depth of her displeasure, but privately Chris suspected that was just a way of avoiding the inevitable. He cleared his throat impatiently and she finally looked away from Richards, much to the Londoner's obvious relief, and glanced reluctantly at each of them in turn before sighing heavily.

"All right," she said, a little gracelessly. "I was seventeen and it happened on my parents' sofa while they were asleep upstairs."

"See," Chris couldn't help but grin. "Wasn't that bad, was it?"

She snorted disbelievingly. "I wouldn't say that, Chris," she answered dryly. "It was a little... disappointing."

For some reason that sent Rebecca off into gales of laughter, although it took some time until she chose to explain. "It's always disappointing the first time. At least for girls."

"There speaks the voice of experience," muttered Spencer a little acidly. She gave him a long cool look. Sam neatly defused the tension.

"Kind of puts us in our place though, doesn't it? There we all are, thinking we were the best thing since sliced bread, introducing someone to the heady heights of passion, and now we find out we were 'disappointing'." He gave a little amused laugh, sounding not at all put out and Backup frowned at him. Backup, Chris had noticed, seemed to have spent most of the evening frowning at Sam, especially when it was Sam's time to answer questions.

And talking of that...

"Come on, Backup. Your turn to select the next victim."

Irritated, she glared at him and then, as had happened all evening, she turned her attention back to Sam.

"All right, Sam. Your turn. Truth or dare?"

"Truth."

"How did you lose your virginity?"

It was a repeat of the question she'd been asked and his partner shrugged and smiled again, seemingly unfazed by both the question and the underlying hostility in Backup's voice.

"I was fifteen," he answered easily. "She was my older sister's older friend. She was nineteen."

"And?" Chris asked curiously.

Sam grinned at him. "Bus shelter," he elaborated. "It was about the only place on our estate that you got something approaching privacy. Providing that you avoided the glue sniffers, of course."

"How romantic," commented Spencer wryly.

"Yeah, I know," admitted Sam. "But romance wasn't very high on my priorities at the time. I was only fifteen, and god knows fifteen year old boys think about one thing and one thing only." And then he smiled, almost dreamily. "We did it three times."

"Three times!" interjected Richards, his mouth hanging open. "Jesus!"

"I was fifteen," Sam repeated. "Getting it up wasn't a problem. Keeping it up for any length of time..." He grinned again, seemingly at ease with the admission that his first time had been little more than adolescent fumbling and had been over quickly. That impression was reinforced when he admitted, "Although, thinking about it now, it's not surprising that girls find it a little disappointing really." He gave Backup and Rebecca a rueful little smile. "We do get a little better at it," he insisted.

Rebecca snorted, staring dispiritedly down into her glass of white wine. "I wouldn't count on it," she muttered.

Sam laughed, although not maliciously. "I said 'a little', Becky. Can't you even leave me with that illusion?"

She returned his smile and offered him a little toast. "I'll try not to ram the full force of reality down your throat, Curtis."

He returned the proffered toast with a flourish, laughing again, his eyes sparkling. Chris found himself smiling a little foolishly, their good-humoured banter strangely contagious. Backup, however, did not look amused. He'd noticed that the sight of Sam flirting with anyone but her seemed to have that effect.

Richards was staring down at his can again, his expression glum. "Fifteen," he muttered. "Girls wouldn't even look at me when I was fifteen. Couldn't even get a snog down the school disco."

"That's probably because you were spotty and awkward," said Rebecca a little heartlessly. "Fifteen year old boys usually are."

"Sam obviously wasn't," Richards protested.

"Oh I was," Sam explained. "I think she was just desperate." He gave that self-deprecating smile again. Somehow Chris couldn't imagine Sam ever being spotty and awkward, but there was a more pressing question on his mind.

"What's a snog?" he asked.

The four English people in the room turned amazed faces on him, although he was pleased to note that Backup seemed as befuddled by the term as he was himself, no matter how hard she was trying to hide it.

"A kiss," explained Sam succinctly.

"With tongues," added Rebecca helpfully.

"I suppose," Spencer added his two cents thoughtfully, "it's a bit like 'making out'."

"Oh."

Well that explained things.

There was a slight lull in their conversation, Chris' question apparently having killed it, at least until Rebecca perked up and grinned at Sam. "Your turn to choose, Sam."

He grinned wolfishly at her and she mouthed an 'oh no', obviously realising that she'd just dropped herself in it.

"So... Rebecca..." She rolled her eyes good-naturedly. "Truth or dare?"

She seemed to consider it for a moment, and then fixed her eyes on Richards' depressed face before meeting Sam's grin again. She sighed. "Truth."

"Most unusual place you've ever had sex."

"Oh God. Sam!" She didn't actually seem that put out, no matter how she was trying to sound. "How come you didn't ask Chris this time?"

It was a good point, Chris had to admit, since he'd noticed a strange trend. Spence asked Backup, who asked Sam who asked Chris who, not wanting to be obvious about it and ask Sam back, usually ended up asking either Rebecca or Richards to ensure that things were fair. If he asked Richards, then Richards generally turned to Rebecca and vice versa. At first he'd thought that it was something to do with making sure everyone had a turn but once the questions became more 'intimate' in nature he was no longer quite as convinced that was it. It was clear that Richards and Rebecca had the hots for each other, even if they failed to see it. It was pretty obvious, and had been for some time, that Spencer was interested in Backup. And for all she tried to hide it, it was also obvious that Backup had more than a platonic interest in Sam. So if Sam was always asking him, didn't it follow that perhaps Sam had more than a platonic interest in him? No, surely not. Sam must have a different reason, especially since he'd bucked the trend. He was letting his imagination, and his libido, get away from him. No, there had to be another answer.

Sam also had an answer for Rebecca's question. "I already know what Chris'll say."

"How?" Chris demanded. "I've never told you anything like that."

Sam's smirk deepened. "Maybe I just know you better than you think."

"Yeah, right."

Sam seemed to take his dismissal as a challenge. "I bet that if Rebecca asks you the question, I'll have a good chance of getting it right."

Chris snorted. "All you'll have to say is that no matter what I say, you thought it."

Sam considered this for a moment and then came to a conclusion. "Okay. Simple solution." He cast around for something, finally seizing on the pad and pen next to the phone and writing something on it, before tearing the piece of paper off, folding it up neatly and handing it to Rebecca, admonishing her, "No peeking."

She grinned at him. "Wouldn't dream of it, Sam."

"Okay, Becky," crowed Richards. "Now you."

She sighed again, rolling her eyes, but now that Chris was starting to suspect that there were things going on under the surface of this game it was clear that she quite enjoyed being the centre of Richards' attention. She gave the question serious consideration, pursing her lips slightly, although she kept watching Richards out of the corner of her eye.

"Fine," she finally said, sounding very long suffering. "Middle of a Rugby pitch." She took in the amused glances around her and sighed again. "What can I say? My boyfriend of the time took his playing very seriously. Almost obsessive in fact."

Spencer laughed. "That must have been uncomfortable."

"Not to mention cold and hard," added Sam.

She smirked at them. "Who said I was on the bottom?"

Once again, Sam raised his glance to her in a toast. "Touché."

She grinned at him triumphantly and then turned that same grin on Chris. "Okay," he sighed. "Get it over with."

"Most unusual place?"

He couldn't help but look at Sam, catching full sight of his partner's smirk and wanting more than anything to prove the other man wrong but somehow feeling he wasn't going to. He wracked his brains, but there was really only one unusual place, or at least one very unusual place.

"Bomb-bay," he admitted finally. "B52."

"In flight?" asked Sam a little too innocently.

He gave his partner a suspicious look before answering, "Now you come to ask, yes. Why?"

Sam smiled slightly superciliously and gestured towards Rebecca with a little triumphant flourish of his own. She played along for all she was worth, sliding the folded up piece of paper between her fingers and toying with it, sneaking a peek and looking around the expectant faces clustered about her before finally opening it with a, "Ta da!"

There, written in Sam's crisp hand, were the words 'Mile High Club'.

"Okay." Chris admitted his partner's victory with some reluctance. "How did you know?"

"Come on, Chris. You're a pilot. I'd be bloody disappointed if you weren't a member!"

He nodded ruefully, listening to the laughter around him and letting Sam have his little triumph. Finally, when the sniggering abated, he turned to the quietest member of their little soiree and treated him to a beaming smile.

Spencer sighed. "Truth," he said.

"Weirdest place you've ever got it on?"

"You do realise that compared to the rest of you this is going to be boring, don't you?"

"You, Spence?" queried Richards with patently false innocence. "Boring?"

Spencer gave him a look that could only be described as 'evil' and when that failed to quash Richards he resorted to throwing peanuts at him instead.

"C'mon, Spence," chided Sam. "Just answer the question."

Another sigh from the Englishman, and then Spencer rather reluctantly admitted that his 'most unusual place' had, in fact, been the shower. "Told you," he added rather defensively as they all tried to stifle their amusement.

"It's that whole 'cleanliness is next to horniness' thing, isn't it, Spence?" Chris threw out, completely straight faced, only to wind up on the receiving end of flying peanuts.

"I'm not meant to have unusual sex," Spencer explained in that dry tone of his.

"It's... kind of unusual," offered Sam a little tentatively as Spencer coloured slightly.

"No, Sam," Spencer replied firmly. "Sex and unusual places and me just don't mix. That time in the shower? I put my back out."

Chris couldn't keep the laughter in this time, no matter how hard he bit his lip and judging by the mingled snorts and gasps from various places throughout the room and the way in which Rebecca was going bright red as she tried to hold her breath he wasn't the only one. Spencer, as always, took it in good grace, smiling slightly as he waited for them to calm down.

"Yeah, yeah," he said. "All very funny." He glanced around them indulgently, his eyes lingering on Backup before obviously deciding that discretion was the better part of valour.

"Sam?"

Sam turned his eyes heavenward with a dramatic, "Why me?"

It was Richards who voiced what they were all thinking, with the pragmatism the man was renowned for. "'Cause no matter what we say, you've got a story to top it."

"I'm not that bad," protested Sam a little defensively.

"Uh huh," said Richards incredulously.

"Hey, my sex life only seems interesting in comparison to yours! Can I help it if yours are boring?" There were catcalls from around the room and Sam had to duck the peanuts thrown at him, grinning unrepentantly the whole time. Spencer, as usual, put a stop to it.

"Truth or dare, Curtis?"

Sam paused for a moment, looking around them for sympathy that didn't come, before sighing and deciding, "Truth."

"Most unusual place?"

"Apart from the bus shelter?" Sam asked, his trademark smirk appearing.

"Hey, yeah!" protested Richards. "That's just not fair. Sam's already revealed that!"

"I'm sure," commented Backup dryly, "that Sam has plenty of other alternatives to tell us about."

Once again there was an underlying note of hostility in her voice, and this time it was clear enough to have both Spencer and Rebecca shifting slightly uncomfortably in their seats, although Richards continued on in his state of uninformed inebriated bliss.

Sam met her challenging gaze coolly, although the air seemed to Chris to be singing with tension. He felt his own hackles rising again, telling himself that it was just because someone was challenging Sam. Pack instinct; that was all. Nothing to do with the way that Backup seemed to consider Sam her personal property or anything.

Thankfully for Chris' sanity, Sam didn't seem to be of the same mind as Backup. At least not yet. He had the feeling that if Backup had her way, Sam would have a maple leaf tattooed on his ass before he knew it.

Sam won this round, smiling sweetly at Backup in a way that threw the Canadian completely off balance and asking, innocently enough, "Define sex?"

"Excuse me?" asked Backup, obviously taken aback.

"Define sex," continued Sam as though it was the most reasonable question in the world. Chris had to stop himself from grinning, seeing her now as routed by his partner. "Are you talking penetration or any sexual act?"

She rallied well, colouring slightly but raising her chin as she said coolly, "Kissing could be considered a sexual act, Sam."

"True," he acknowledged. "So we're talking about something that results in one or both parties reaching orgasm?"

"Fine," she said waspishly. "Which I doubt includes kissing."

Sam treated her to a very slow, very wicked smile that had Chris' hackles rising again, for an entirely different reason this time. "Oh, I don't know, Backup. I'm a very good kisser."

She flushed and Sam chuckled softly. Chris' hand tightened on the neck of the bottle he held as a hard surge of jealousy coursed through him. He forced himself to relax as Sam shot him a quick look - a look of co-conspirators as though he expected Chris to back him up on this battle of wits against their colleague - and forced a small smile onto his face.

"Okay," Sam began. "You know those double-decker tourist buses? The open-topped ones that go around London?"

"You didn't?" breathed Rebecca, her eyes wide and her mouth open. Sam smirked. "Oh god, you did!" she squeaked.

"Top deck," Sam explained succinctly. "Needless to say we were alone."

"You do surprise me," murmured Backup, obviously not completely subdued. Sam ignored her.

"How?" demanded Chris, trying to work the logistics out in his head.

Sam smiled at him. "Well, it didn't involve penetration."

"Uh uh, Curtis. Details!" Richards demanded.

Sam glanced around them, obviously searching for the right word and actually flushing slightly himself.

"Oral," he said briefly.

"Giving or receiving?" asked Rebecca, her eyes alight with curiosity.

"Rebecca!" interjected Spencer, sounding completely scandalised. She shrugged, completely unchastised.

"Enquiring minds want to know," she explained.

"Receiving," Sam clarified, seemingly more at ease now. Chris, however, was not at ease, mainly because he was suddenly assailed with images of Sam on the receiving end of such an act.

Thank god he was wearing a loose and long sweater.

There was a pause while they digested this, and then Rebecca commented thoughtfully, "According to Kinsey, thirty percent of men have received oral sex from another man."

At this, Backup gave Sam a narrow eyed look and then treated Chris to the same. Chris tried hard to ignore her, feeling a slow flush was creeping up his neck. He didn't know why he was flushing. It wasn't like he and Sam...

Oh shit. Maybe she thought... No, she couldn't. Could she?

Sam, however, seemed oblivious to her stare, merely asking Rebecca, "Really?"

"Apparently. And fourteen percent have given oral sex to another man."

"Well, I never." He sounded interested, but that was all. "So, why the disparity? Are the other sixteen percent lying or do these fourteen percent just get around?"

"Sam!" Rebecca was probably aiming for scandalised like Spencer earlier, but the giggling gave her away.

"Oh yuck," said Richards, his face screwing up into an expression of disgust. "Do we have to talk about this?"

Rebecca tossed her head with a sniff. "Like you've never speculated about women together."

"You don't know what I've speculated about."

"I know what features in most male orientated porn films," she protested hotly. "And so called 'lesbian' sex is in most of them." She looked around their expressions before rolling her eyes. "I am aware of porn. I have dated men, you know."

"No one ever doubted it, Becky," grinned Sam.

Backup, Chris was pleased to note, was now glaring at Rebecca rather than him, Sam's flirting with the analyst hopefully putting her mind at ease, at least as regards him. There was no chance of Sam even being interested in him that way, anyway.

Was there?

"Yeah," Richards was protesting. "But... well, men find the idea of two women together..."

"Hot?" suggested Chris, trying to pretend he'd spent more time listening to the conversation than watching Sam.

"Yeah! Hot!"

Rebecca rolled her eyes again. "So why wouldn't women find the idea of two men together 'hot'?"

Why not indeed? It was an interesting concept and one that Chris could understand. Sam was nodding thoughtfully too, but that could have been because he understood Rebecca's reasoning rather than the more intimate understanding of the matter that Chris had himself.

"So, do you find the idea of two men together hot?" Richards asked her bluntly. She smirked at him.

"Not your turn to ask, is it?"

"Damn."

He gave Sam, whose turn it was, a pleading look but Sam grinned at him. "I'm not that stupid, Richards."

"You know," Spencer suddenly said, staring down into his glass of beer. "Thirty percent is almost a third."

"And now we understand why Malone made you Ops Manager," commented Sam dryly.

Spencer ignored him. "Well, that's one in three."

"And?" Chris asked.

"There are four of us in the room."

There was another one of those silences while they all digested it. And then Sam, with impeccable timing, turned to Richards with a positively wicked smile on his face.

"Oh no," said Richards.

Sam didn't bother replying but his smile deepened. "Okay," Richards pouted. "For the record I've never had oral sex with a man - giving or receiving."

Sam blinked innocently. "I wasn't going to ask you that, Richards." And then he gave that wicked grin again. "Truth or dare?"

"Bastard," replied Richards without any heat. "Truth."

"What was the last porn film you watched and when?"

"What makes you think I watch porn?" Sam's look was frankly disbelieving and Richards gave in. "Okay... erm... Can't remember what it was called but it wasn't very good. Real seventies, cheesy stuff. About two months ago, round at a mate's. His bachelor party."

"Two months?" asked Sam dubiously.

"I've been busy," Richards protested before realising how that sounded. "I mean... oh, just forget it."

"You know what's really odd?" said Rebecca suddenly, sounding a little more drunk than she had been. Glancing at her glass, Chris noticed that it was now empty. "They always keep their socks on. And their shoes."

"In porn?" asked Spencer, sounding very confused.

"In gay porn," she explained. "And you know what I wondered?"

"Why are all the gorgeous looking men gay?" asked Backup wryly to the synchronous groans of the men in the room.

"No. How they got their trousers off without taking their shoes off." She blinked short-sightedly at them. "Strange that."

"Why were you watching gay porn?" asked Richards before the obvious answer dawned on him and he flushed.

"Research," Rebecca shot back. "On the Katrinka case."

"Oh." It wouldn't be the first time one of them had had to do some unusual 'research' for a case, and for some reason Richards looked strangely relieved. Spencer, however, merely looked confused.

"But the Katrinka case didn't have anything to do with..." He trailed off when Rebecca gave him a hard look. Sam came to her rescue.

"Your turn to choose, Richards."

The hacker looked at Rebecca and then thought better of it. "Backup..." She groaned. "Truth or dare?"

"Truth," she sighed.

"Does gay sex turn you on?"

Poor Richards, Chris thought. Only a complete inability to understand what drove Rebecca could result in him being stupid enough to ask Backup that question. He half expected her to hang the hacker by his own innards. However, she contented herself to a hard look that had Richards squirming. It was at least a full minute before she took pity on him.

"I've never really thought about it," she admitted. "Not until this evening. So the short answer is - I don't know." And then she smiled. "Why?" she asked silkily. "Does it turn you on?"

Chris stifled a smile. Richards was definitely not having a good day. "Your turn," replied the surly Londoner.

This time Backup's smile was definitely triumphant as she looked at each of them in turn before her gaze settled on Chris.

Shit, he thought, as her smile took on a near malicious quality. "Truth," he ground out through gritted teeth, not willing to risk what she had planned as a dare. She was the one who'd come up with Richards' punishment.

"So, Chris," she began. "How many... people have you had sex with?"

He was sure she'd hesitated on the 'people' deliberately, and it struck him that perhaps he'd been too eager to believe her suspicions had been put to rest. He glowered at her while she smirked at him. This time even Richards seemed to notice the tension in the room, glancing uncertainly between them, and once again it was Sam who neatly defused the situation.

"Would that be in total or at any one time?" he asked innocently.

Chris spluttered on the mouthful of beer he'd been nonchalantly swigging, trying to maintain his cool.

"What?" demanded Backup, looking less than pleased by the interruption.

"Well, you weren't really clear on that point, Tina." If the use of her first name rather than her nickname was any indication, Sam was most definitely not amused, no matter how friendly a tone the question was phrased in. "It could be either. How many people has Chris had sex with in his life or how many at any one time."

She blinked. "You know, Sam, it never actually occurred to me that anyone could interpret it as anything other than 'in your life'. Obviously your... experiences and mine differ."

Big mistake, Chris thought as his partner's eyes turned flinty. Sam's smile, however, never slipped from his face. "I think I've just been called a slut," he said pleasantly.

Backup shrugged lightly. "If that cap fits, Sam..."

One of his eyebrows rose but still his smile stayed firmly in place. "I enjoy sex," he said, still sounding pleasant and polite. "I fail to see why I should apologise for it. Besides, you do know the definition of promiscuous, don't you, Backup?"

"No," she said coolly, walking straight into the trap.

Sam smiled a little more genuinely this time. "Someone who's having more sex than you."

Thank you, Queer as Folk. Chris watched as Backup's own smile became fixed in place. She recovered quickly and turned to Chris again.

"How many, Chris?" She spared Sam a quick, dismissive glance. "In your life, that is."

He wasn't actually that bothered by the question, and he couldn't quite see why Sam was so bothered on his behalf unless he'd also caught the nuances in Backup's question. Caught them and didn't like them.

He cut off the thought abruptly, not wanting to face the idea that Sam didn't like the suggestion that Chris was less than straight. He started to tot up relationships in his head.

Rebecca beat him to it. By now she was less than sober. "On average," she said with the seriousness only obtained by the completely wasted, "people have eight lovers in their lives." She nodded carefully as Chris looked at her. "Read it somewhere."

Chris smiled at her. "It's a little more than that for me, Becky. More than eight, less than twenty." He gave Backup a hard look. "And that's as specific as I'm willing to get. Contrary to what some people might believe I don't keep notches on the bed post."

"Sixty percent of Londoners," interrupted Rebecca dreamily, "have had sex on the Underground."

"I haven't," answered Richards, seemingly automatically.

"Me either," Chris added. "Assuming I even count as a 'Londoner' not being a native or anything." They all, with the exception of Rebecca who was still drifting happily, looked automatically at Sam, who merely smiled.

Chris rolled his eyes. "Figures. Where do you come up with these facts, Becky?"

She blinked owlishly at him, probably wondering which of the figures she saw to speak to. "It's what laughingly passes for my sex life," she replied morosely, "in the absence of a real one."

"Aw, diddums," said Richards, moving to sit on the sofa beside her and sliding one arm comfortingly around her shoulders. "You've always got me."

"I'm not that desperate," she muttered but Chris noticed that not only did she not move away from the hacker but also she leant in more closely to him.

Spencer, Chris noticed, was watching them with an indulgent smile. When he caught Chris watching him, he treated the American to a slightly rueful grin. "Okay, Chris. Your turn."

"Truth or dare, Spence?"

"Truth."

He decided it was about time they got away from sex if they could. "Most embarrassing crush." Spencer looked a little confused and so he elaborated. "You know, when you were a teenager. Did you fancy the Queen Mother or something?"

Spencer's face cleared as understanding dawned. Chris thought that he looked a little relieved actually. "Erm..." Spencer began, searching his memory. "Is this where I tell you I had a secret fetish for David Cassidy?" He grinned again. Trust Spencer not to miss the nuances either.

"Did you?"

"Nah. I did have a bit of a thing for Kate Jackson though. You know, Sabrina in Charlie's Angels."

"Which one was she?" asked Richards. "The one with the boobs and the hair?"

"Nah," Sam replied. "Knowing Spence it was the boring one with the brains. Am I right, Spence?"

Spencer gave Sam a hard look before reluctantly smiling and admitting that yes, Sabrina was the one with brains.

"Richards?"

"Truth."

"Crush?"

"Oh gawd. My English teacher."

"How was that embarrassing?" Backup wanted to know.

Richards grinned affectionately down at Rebecca. "She was gorgeous and I was fifteen and spotty," he explained, only to receive a dig in the ribs from his female colleague.

"Sam?"

Sam rolled his eyes in a classic 'oh god, here it comes' move but his reply of, "Truth," was good-natured enough.

"How many at any one time then?"

"That's what I like about you, Richards. Your unpredictability." Sam's smile took any serious sting out of the words. "Including me?" At Richards' nod he answered, "Three."

"Male or female?" Rebecca wanted to know.

"Becky! Anyone tell you you're obsessed?" The comment earned Richards another dig in the ribs.

Sam smirked. "I've answered Richards' question, Becky. That's all you're going to get." Rebecca pouted, to no avail.

"Spoilsport," she muttered under her breath, although loud enough for Chris to overhear her. He gave her a grin before he realised that Sam was looking at him.

"Oh no."

"Oh yes," Sam replied, that wicked grin once again gracing his handsome face. "Truth or dare?"

He sighed heavily. "Truth."

"So..." Sam's expression became strangely unreadable; although the smile was still there, there was something in his partner's eyes that he wasn't familiar with. "Have you ever had a crush on someone you thought you shouldn't have?"

It was a strange way of phrasing the question too. It meant it changed from the one he'd asked Spencer, about a teenage crush, to something completely different, mainly because of the almost intense tone in Sam's voice.

"Unrequited love, you mean?" he asked, a little uncertainly.

The look in Sam's eyes didn't waver although his partner's voice was light enough as he answered, "Something like that."

He gave the question careful consideration, wondering what Sam was getting at, while his partner leant on the sofa and watched him with those pale, silver eyes. It made him feel slightly uncomfortable, but not as uncomfortable as he felt when he realised Backup was glaring at him. Never one to back down from a challenge he glared back before turning his attention back to his partner.

"Maybe," he admitted. "Who hasn't fancied someone they don't think they have a chance with?"

"Just fancied?" Sam asked quietly.

Somehow he was getting the impression that this was a conversation going on at more than one level and that thought had him cocking his head to one side and giving Sam a long, slow, considering look.

"Maybe something more."

Sam nodded seriously, those remarkable eyes continuing to watch him.

Backup, however, looked like she was gnawing at her own liver. He took a certain satisfaction in that. It was probably a false sense of security that had him asking, "Backup. Truth or dare?"

"Truth," she answered calmly, alternating her gaze between Sam and him.

He wracked his brains for something to ask her, something to pay her back for the way she'd implied that Sam was amoral and yet not be too obvious about it.

"So, Backup," he started innocently. "Who was the last person you had a sexual fantasy about?"

Bingo. Her eyes flickered ever so slightly towards Sam, giving herself away, and a faint flush began to rise up her neck. He had to admire her poise, however, as she raised her chin defiantly and answered coolly, "Hugh Jackman."

"Wolverine?" asked Richards. "Cool! With or without the claws?"

Backup gave him a scathing look but by now Richards was so drunk it rolled off his back, the hacker not even registering it. So instead Backup turned her look onto Sam. Chris was beginning to suspect that irritating the Canadian and then giving her another chance at Sam hadn't been among his brightest ideas, a feeling confirmed by Backup's next question.

"So... Sam. Truth or dare?"

Sam gave her a long, slow look, the tension between the pair of them almost tangible. Chris could swear that the electricity in those locked gazes was the reason the hairs on the back of his neck were rising.

"Truth."

"Are you among Rebecca's fourteen percent?"

Shit. She didn't pull any punches when she was pissed, and he meant pissed in the American and not British sense, although she'd obviously had enough to drink to pursue this line of questioning.

Sam however, didn't back down, merely treating her to the kind of smile he usually reserved for adversaries. "You asking if I've ever given oral sex to another man?"

"I'm asking if you've ever had sex with another man. And you can use the same definition of sex as last time."

She settled back in her seat with a triumphant little smile, once again casting her gaze towards Chris who sat there speechless. Sam, however, just seemed amused.

"So I'm now not just a slut, I'm a gay slut?" He shook his head with mock rebuke. "Oh, Backup."

Backup retreated slightly, a look of uncertainty in her eyes. Once again, with impeccable timing, Rebecca stepped into the breach, probably without even realising it.

"You know what Kinsey said?"

"No, Becky," replied Sam softly, still sounding amused and looking at the analyst with obvious affection. "Why don't you tell us?"

She gave that serious nod of the seriously wasted again. "Forty six percent of men have either had sex with another man or been turned on by another man." She frowned, and then added with the preciseness that characterised her working life, "At some point in their life anyway."

"What does that mean?" Richards wanted to know.

"It means," Sam replied smoothly, "we're back to horny fifteen year olds again." Richards gave him a disgruntled look.

Deciding that it was about time someone took the heat off Sam, Chris gave Spencer a considering look that had the Englishman asking, "What?"

"Oh, just wondering when you're going to point out that that's almost half, and then casually slip into the conversation that there are four of us in the room," he grinned.

"Yeah, well," shot back Richards, still looking a bit disgruntled, "at least that means that there'll be someone to do it with." He coloured when all eyes fixed on him, and stuttered, "I mean... I didn't mean... Oh crap."

Chris was laughing as hard as any of them and almost missed Rebecca's sly leaning in to their colleague. "Do I get to watch?"

"Rebecca!"

"Oh, you're in trouble now, Becky," Chris could help but comment. "He's using your full name there."

"Yeah, I know," she grinned back. "If he uses my middle name and surname too, I'll know I'm in deep shit." She sounded completely unrepentant and Chris returned her grin with one of his own.

"What's the stats for women then?" Richards wanted to know, obviously trying to deflect the attention from him.

"Women what?"

"You know, the percentage of them that have had sex or been turned on by another woman?"

"Don't know."

"Why not?"

Rebecca gave the hacker an exasperated look. "I wasn't really that interested in it."

"Why not?" She didn't bother answering but just gave him a look until it finally seemed to sink in. "Oh," he said, colouring again.

She continued to look at him until she obviously felt the point had hit home and then turned her attention back to Sam, waggling her eyebrows suggestively. "So, Sammy..."

Sam didn't seem to take offence, laughing good-naturedly at her. "You want to watch?"

She almost purred and Chris couldn't help chuckling at the sight of the pair of them playing off each other and at the bewilderment on Richards' face as the hacker tried to make sense of the conversation.

"Tell you what, Becky," offered Sam, still laughing and sounding a little more drunk now than he had been. "You can imagine me having sex with whoever you want."

"Ooh," she said, sitting up straighter and smirking. "Now there's an offer I can't refuse." She took her time, peering around the other men in the room, waiting until each one coloured before moving on to her next victim while Sam lay on the floor, laughing so hard that he looked close to tears.

Finally her gaze settled on Chris and he felt a sudden surge of heated blood rushing to his face, a fact that only seemed to amuse her even more. She smirked and raised her empty glass at him in a toast, which only made him blush harder. Sam, however, seemed to find that even more hilarious. Taking matters into his hands, Chris did the only thing he could think of and reached for the bowl of peanuts closest to him.

Rebecca ducked, laughing hard as Chris muttered something about her being sick. "Yeah," she giggled. "But you say that like it's a bad thing."

Richards, Chris was pleased to note, was now looking at her with affectionate exasperation, shaking his head bemusedly and wrapping one arm around her as she collapsed in giggles against him. Whatever else this night might result in it looked like those two were finally making progress. If nothing else, maybe the image of Rebecca giggling and flirting with Sam like that might convince Richards that there was more to the data analyst than the rather conservative and prim picture she presented in the office.

Spencer had that indulgent look back on his face as he watched them, commenting, "Someone's going to have hangover tomorrow."

Sam peered down into his empty glass, wiping the tears of laughter from his eyes. "More than one I think."

Chris was smiling himself now, the embarrassment at Rebecca's insinuation having faded, however his smile slipped when he caught sight of Backup's face. She was watching him with a kind of pained bewilderment in her eyes, glancing between Sam and him as though looking at them would give her the answers she sought. When she caught him looking at her, however, her face settled into a mask that would have done his partner proud.

"You haven't answered the question, Sam," she said quietly. Chris couldn't be sure whether he was imagining the slight tremor in her voice because her eyes were certainly cool enough.

"You can't ask Sam that, Tina."

Spencer, to the rescue, thank god, his voice strangely gentle. His eyes, as he watched the Canadian, were sympathetic and once again Chris got the feeling that he was missing half the conversation.

"Why not?"

"Because," Spencer explained patiently, "it's the kind of question that people shouldn't have to answer. It's too far."

Backup raised her eyebrow. "Farther than asking how you lost your virginity or where you've had sex?"

"Yes." He was adamant on that point. "Answering those kind of questions isn't going to ruin your life, get you beaten up, have your friends turn their backs on you." Chris was startled by Spencer's vehemence, wondering if the Englishman was speaking from experience. Spencer hadn't finished yet, though. "And it's the kind of question where you are screwed on. If you refuse to answer on principle, everyone thinks 'yes', if you say no everyone thinks 'yes'. This is a game, Tina," he continued gently. "It's supposed to be fun. Ask Sam something else."

She held Spencer's gaze. "No." As he opened his mouth to protest further, she raised a hand to stop him. "But I will give him the opportunity to take a dare instead." She turned her gaze onto Sam. "What's it going to be, Curtis?"

Chris couldn't keep silent any longer. "What the hell is your problem, Backus?" he demanded hotly.

"It's okay, Chris," soothed Sam.

"It's not okay!"

"Yes, it is. Really."

He met Sam's gaze and realised that Sam really wasn't bothered by this. Irritated, yes, but not really bothered. He couldn't figure out why when he was incensed on his partner's behalf. However, Sam's calm enabled him to accept his partner's decision with an appearance of good grace if not with equanimity.

Tina's eyes were darting between them again, still with that lingering pain in them and then they hardened slightly as she seemed to come to a decision.

"Truth or dare, Sam?"

His partner met Backup's challenging gaze coolly, tilting his head to one side and appearing to weigh up her words. And then he gave her an icy smile.

"Dare."

Chris didn't know if it was his imagination, a reflection of the roiling emotions he felt inside, but it appeared as though the tension in the room went up a notch. The single word also sent another flicker through Backup's eyes, and she looked away from Sam to him instead. He watched in confusion as she smiled, a smile that was distant and almost sad instead of the malicious one he would have expected given her words and actions so far.

"Kiss Chris," she said.

Chris' mouth dropped open. She couldn't be serious.

She was. She looked back at Sam almost tauntingly. "Go on, Sam. What are you waiting for?"

His partner met her eyes calmly and then glanced at him, raising one eyebrow at him quizzically. He got the feeling that Sam was checking to see that it would be okay. He didn't have to say anything, meeting Sam's eyes calmly, trusting that the rapport that existed between them would ensure that Sam realised his willingness to go along with this.

He wasn't going to let Backup win. No matter what game she was playing.

Sam gave him a faint smile and then rose gracefully to his feet, padding over to him with all of the finesse and raw power of a predator.

"Sam?"

Backup's voice stopped his partner in his tracks and also reminded Chris that they had an audience. Sam turned to look at her, a slight smile still gracing his face.

She leant forward slightly, her expression purposeful. "A proper kiss," she insisted, that taunting note still clear in her voice. "Not a peck on the cheek. A proper, full-blown kiss. On the mouth."

"With tongues?" Sam asked, his eyes dancing. "A proper snog, you mean?" The sheer amusement on his face seemed to take her aback again, and her eyes darted between them before they fixed on Sam's face and she nodded, her expression growing subdued.

Sam spared her a brief smile and then turned his full attention back to Chris, his green eyes determined. That strange look was back on Sam's face, causing Chris' heart to leap into his throat. Chris couldn't tear his eyes away from him, any awareness of the other people in the room fading, drowned out by the presence of the man stalking towards him with intent in his eyes.

Sam stopped in front of him, falling elegantly to his knees, his green eyes boring into Chris. He reached out one gentle hand to stroke along Chris' brow, moving it slowly down to cup the American's face and guide Chris' mouth to his. Chris went with the flow, his own eyes wide as Sam's face came closer, Sam's sweet-smelling breath ghosting over his skin, setting his nerve endings alight.

The first touch of Sam's mouth against his was feather-light, a brief caress like a butterfly's wings, scarcely grazing his lips. Instinctively he leant closer, his eyes drifting shut, wanting more of that touch, wanting more pressure behind it and Sam's mouth returned, pressing more firmly this time but still too lightly for Chris' liking.

Sam pulled back again, a paper-thin gap between them, and again Chris followed, his mouth flowering open as Sam closed that space for a third time, finally putting some force behind his kiss, moving his mouth so slowly over Chris', drugging his senses with the hypnotic feel of those firm lips against his. Sam took his time, sliding his mouth over Chris' almost agonisingly slowly before finally flicking the very tip of his tongue against Chris' lips.

An electric shock went straight through him, sending shivery tendrils of desire into every part of his body and arcing to his cock, making it rise and fill and ache.

Sam's tongue was now dancing along his, teasing and tormenting, brushing over the soft, sensitive skin inside, outlining his teeth, plundering the depths of his mouth. His burgeoning erection was becoming more and more difficult to control, and he gave up on it, lost in the sensations Sam was sparking in him, a small whimper escaping him. The Englishman's hand was still cupping his face and Sam's other hand was wrapped around the back of his neck, holding him steady for Sam's explorations.

Sam's hand slipped from his face to his shoulder, sliding down his arm and pulling Chris closer to him. All the American could do was go where he was bidden, letting himself be pulled against Sam, feeling the heat of the other man's body burn through his clothes while still that agile tongue darted in and out of his mouth, setting him ablaze.

Finally a sheer lack of oxygen had him pulling back from Sam, panting heavily, his eyes wide. They met Sam's green ones, his partner's pupils wide and dark with desire. He watched, mesmerised, as the tip of Sam's pink tongue darted out and dragged over his partner's kiss stung lips. Lips stung from kissing him.

He flushed violently as he took in the stunned silence from the other members of their little group, pulling away from Sam to scrub his hands through his disordered hair. He avoided Sam's eyes, embarrassed both by their kiss and his reaction to it; he avoided everyone's eyes. Except Backup's. His gaze was drawn to the Canadian's, expecting to see... he didn't know what there. What he saw was an intense sadness and then she ruefully raised her glass to him in silent acknowledgement, the vanquished to the victor. He just wasn't sure what he was supposed to have won.

His flush deepened, burning up his skin as much as Sam's kisses had done, and he snuck a sidelong look at his partner. Sam was leaning back on his elbows, watching him carefully, his face studiously neutral. Chris managed to dredge up a shaky smile from somewhere and watched as some of the tension drained out of his partner's body and Sam returned it, his green eyes softening slightly. And then Sam glanced at Backup, no malice in his gaze just a hint of sympathy and maybe even apology in his eyes.

He was missing half the conversation again.

"Well," breathed Rebecca eventually. "I don't know about anyone else but I'm turned on."

"I think," said Spencer dryly, "that the apposite words, Becky, might be 'Whoa, Momma!'"

Spencer's unflappable nature helped Chris find his own voice. "Well," he began weakly, his hands shaking slightly as he settled back down onto the floor. "Sam's right."

"About what?" asked Richards, looking as stunned as Chris felt.

"He is a very good kisser."

The joke, weak though it was, broke the remaining tension.

"Mmmm," Rebecca commented dreamily. Sam laughed, reaching for the half-full bottle of red wine to refill his glass.

"Still turned on, Becky?" he teased her, his voice made rougher by either the amount of alcohol he'd consumed or the kisses he'd shared with Chris. "If I were you, Richards, I'd get her home now."

Richards almost choked on his beer at that suggestion, raising stunned eyes to Sam's grinning face.

"Just 'cause you scored tonight, Curtis, doesn't mean I'm going to," he replied acidly.

"Awwww, diddums," said Rebecca, snuggling up to him again. "If you're really lucky, Richards, I might let you find me a taxi." She stared into her empty glass thoughtfully. "I had sex in the back of a cab once. Is there any more wine?"

Richards perked up at that, giving her a mock lecherous look only to receive another dig in the ribs. He played it up for all he was worth, rubbing the injured area dramatically and moaning about it, while a smile played around his mouth.

Chris settled back comfortably on the floor next to Sam, close enough to feel Sam's body heat seeping through his clothes. He let the tension drain out of him, listening to his friends' banter while he replayed the kiss over and over in his mind. Rebecca and Richards were still kidding around, Rebecca bemoaning the fact that someone had drunk all the white wine and seemed to be of the opinion that Sam had had something to do with it. Sam was protesting his innocence, in vain, laughter clear in his voice as Rebecca pouted. He was still lying on the floor next to Chris, completely relaxed, and every now and then his hand brushed lightly over Chris' leg as he gestured to make a point. It could have been completely innocent.

Or not.

Backup was talking to Spencer about something work related, but every now and then she would sneak quick looks at one or the other of them, her eyes still sad although there was something like acceptance there now too. Spencer was watching her, compassion and something more in his gaze, drawing her attention back to him each time it seemed to linger on them.

Rebecca was moving now, rising unsteadily to her feet and claiming that if she'd really drunk Chris out of white wine it was time to make a move. He wasn't really surprised when Richards got up with her, and found her coat. She gave Spencer and Backup a hug each, showing remarkable perspicacity considering her drunken state in the gentleness she showed towards her female colleague and then she stopped in front of Chris, grinning at him before kissing him full on the mouth, briefly but sweetly. And then she turned to Sam and gave him a mock lecherous look.

"So, do I get one of those kisses too?" she asked. "Since Chris seemed to enjoy it so much?"

Chris could feel the blood rushing to his face again but Sam merely laughed, leaning down to press his mouth chastely against Rebecca's. She was having none of it, wrapping her arms enthusiastically around his neck and pressing her lips firmly against his before pulling back and saying, "Nice. Can see why you were so impressed, Chris."

Richards scowled as he took in Sam's flushed and tousled appearance and Sam shrugged good-naturedly at him, smiling. "How come I don't get one of those kisses?" he asked Rebecca, a note of jealousy in his voice.

"'Cause you get to take me home instead."

Richards brightened at that, although Chris thought that the Londoner might be too much of a gentleman to try and take advantage of Rebecca tonight. However, he suspected that Richards' good intentions might be overwhelmed by the analyst's obviously recently liberated libido, a suspicion merely strengthened when she winked at him and grinned before preceding Richards out of the door he was holding open for her. And he'd always thought her staid.

Still waters indeed.

Backup and Spencer weren't long in following, Backup still wearing that rueful little smile as she hugged them both goodnight. "I don't suppose," she said to Sam with a slight smile, "that you'll be coming to get a taxi with us?"

Sam glanced around the untidy flat, taking in the empty wine and beer bottles, scattered edibles and discarded pizza boxes. He shrugged and replied blandly, "Someone has to help Chris clean up. Might as well be me."

She glanced between them with a knowing smile. "Yes, of course." And then she sighed and squared her shoulders. "Come on, Spence. Let's leave these two to sort out this mess."

Somehow Chris didn't think she was referring to the state of his flat. He had a strong suspicion that this time he wasn't missing any of the conversation, a feeling confirmed when he met Sam's eyes and felt the surge of heat that flooded him, heat echoed in his partner's eyes.

Sam closed the door behind Backup and Spencer as they left, saying something about seeing them back at work. Chris missed it. He was too busy watching Sam to pay attention, watching the way his partner moved, the grace inherent in each gesture, the shape and form of the man. He was too busy remembering Sam's taste to care about anything else.

Door now closed, Sam leant against the wall by the window, a glass of red wine in his hand and watching him closely. Chris tilted his head to one side and met his gaze evenly.

"You never did answer Rebecca's question."

Sam's lips curved up in a slight smile. "Which question was that?"

"Whether there was another man involved in this threesome."

Sam's smile deepened. "No, I didn't, did I?"

Chris felt an answering smile on his own lips. "Didn't answer Backup either."

"No."

"Are you going to answer me?"

His partner let out a light chuckle, his eyes never leaving Chris' face, the heat in them unmistakable. "What's the question?"

"Have you ever had sex with a man?"

Sam's lips quirked again, and he placed his glass carefully on the sideboard before stalking towards Chris, the move echoing events earlier that evening.

"Why don't we find out?"

*****

She'd gambled everything and lost. It hurt, although she was honest enough to admit to herself that she'd probably never even had a chance.

She couldn't help herself and glanced over her shoulder, up towards the still lit window, spilling light over the cemetery they were walking past. Two figures, so tightly entwined that they could have been one, were silhouetted there, too far away to make out any features but it was obvious that they were lost in each other.

Even to her.

She sighed and turned her attention back to the path they were following, strangely grateful for the man at her side. A strong arm came to rest around her shoulders and squeezed gently. It gave her the courage to speak.

"I never had a chance, did I?"

"No," Spencer replied softly.

"I thought..."

"I know."

She glanced back up to the window but the figures were gone now. As she watched, the light from the main room went out and another came on.

The bedroom.

"It was inevitable, you know," Spencer commented, his voice still gentle. "Sam and Chris, I mean."

"Yes," she admitted. "I just didn't want to see it." The arm around her shoulder tightened for a second and then gently steered her back around to face the direction they'd been heading.

"Come on," he said. "Let's get you home."

After a few minutes of companionable silence she let out a shaky laugh. "I guess that on this evidence, Becky's forty six percent would be about right."

Spencer chuckled softly. "I guess so."

"So... Does this mean that you and Richards are completely straight?"

He laughed again, his eyes sparkling in the streetlights as he turned to look at her, amusement clear on his face.

"I think that's a question for the next game of truth or dare, don't you?"

The End

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