Sam was already reading his way through the material that Backup, in her normal efficient manner, had provided within a matter of hours.  For once there was no urgency in the situation; well, there was urgency, but it was of the 'you leave first thing tomorrow morning' type rather than the 'your plane leaves in half an hour' type, which made a pleasant change.  So there was time for a meal, and some sleep, both of which Chris hated to go without.  'First things first though,' he thought, heading towards Sam's kitchen with a mission in mind.  Sam had started to stock his favourite brand of beer even before the two of them became romantically involved, although he wasn't sure that 'romantic' could be a description applied to his partner.  Over the last few months he'd come to the conclusion that although Sam may not feel as deeply for him as he did for Sam, his partner did care for him a lot.  And for the moment, Chris was content to let things take their course.

"I'm getting a beer," he yelled back over his shoulder to Sam.  "Want one, baby?"

There was a stunned silence from behind him, and when Chris returned to the spacious main room, Sam stared at him with a look of complete astonishment.  "What did you just call me?" he asked.

Oh oh.  Definitely in trouble for that one.  He hadn't thought, that was the problem.  The word had just popped out, probably because he used to call Annie the exact same thing.  His eyes searched Sam's face, looking for clues as to just how much trouble he was in.  There were still areas of their relationship that were marked as strictly off limits and he wasn't sure if he'd just crossed one of those invisible lines.  Sometimes being involved with Sam was like walking through a minefield.  Much as he loved the man he had to admit that Sam could turn from warm to ice in seconds if he felt threatened.

"Baby?" continued Sam mildly.  "Chris, don't call me that."  Chris suppressed a sigh of relief.  Perhaps he'd escape with his skin intact.  Sam's next words surprised him, they were so calm.  "Makes me feel like I should be wearing a giant nappy - sorry - diaper."

Chris leered at him.  "You know, some people get off on things like that."

"Please tell me you're not one of them," Sam said looking at him evenly.  Chris just grinned back at him lecherously, causing Sam to roll his eyes.

"What would be acceptable?" asked Chris, genuinely interested in the turn the conversation had taken now that he knew he was going to survive this.  He took a swig of beer, moving closer to where Sam lounged on the sofa, barefooted and comfortable.  The bruises from Tennessee had healed completely now, and about the only lingering effect seemed to be that Sam was still a little nervous in completely closed in spaces.  However, Chris had the feeling that he was the only one of their colleagues aware of that.  Sam hid what he was really feeling very well, and he had to admit that even he hadn't noticed much amiss in the last week or so.  At the moment, Sam looked completely relaxed and at ease, and was not paying a great deal of attention to him.

"Mmm?"

"If baby's not acceptable, what would be?"

"I'd be tempted to say almost anything, but knowing what you're likely to come up with that could be dangerous," replied Sam, his attention now focused back on the A4 pad he'd been making notes in.  Now that sounded like a challenge.

"Honeybuns?" he suggested.

"Yes, that's worse," agreed Sam without looking up.

"Sweetcheeks?"  That got a grunt of disapproval.  "Possum?"

"Who are you, Dame Edna?"

"Cutie pie?"

"Call me that and die."

"Sweetheart?" asked Chris, the tone of his voice changing from teasing to something more intense, catching Sam's attention.  Chris was now leaning on the back of the couch with a look in his grey eyes that sent shivers down Sam's spine.

"That would be more acceptable," he replied cautiously.  Chris smiled softly, still with that intense look in his eyes.

"Beloved?"

"A little old fashioned maybe, but still acceptable."

"Love?"

"Have I ever protested when you've called me that before?"

"I've only called you that once before, and I thought you were asleep."  Sam couldn't look him in the face anymore - it was getting too intense.  Instead he turned his attention back to his notes, underlining a few words to cover his nervousness.  "Acceptable?" prompted Chris, aware that for once he had the upper hand and not willing to let it slip this time.

"Acceptable," replied Sam, straining to keep his voice nonchalant.  There was a long silence, which grated on Sam's nerves.  When he looked up at Chris again, his partner was looking at him with an expression that could only be described as 'soppy'.  "What?" he asked.

Chris gave him a whimsical little smile.  "Light of my life?" he asked lightly.  "Other half of my soul?  The reason for my existence?"

"Now you're just getting silly," interjected Sam before his lover got any mushier.  Chris' smile only widened.

"You don't mind when I get silly," he replied, his voice certain.  Sam merely looked at him without commenting, before returning his attention back to his pad.  When he finally spoke his voice was soft and even.

"No, I don't.  It's one of the things I love about you."

It took Chris a minute to process the words and realise what his partner had just said.  It took another minute for him to find his voice.  He reckoned it would take a lifetime to wipe the smile off his face.  He struggled to find something to say, something that wouldn't increase the tension evident in Sam's body, for all that his lover had kept his voice and face almost expressionless while making his admission.  Eventually he decided that it would be safer to say nothing at all.  Instead he leant over the back of the couch, caught Sam's chin in his hand, tilting his face towards him and gave the other man a long, satisfying kiss.

"What do you want for dinner?" he asked when he finally released Sam, keeping his voice deliberately light.  The decision to change the subject appeared to be a wise one.

"You're going to cook?" demanded Sam, his tone deliberately flabbergasted, but obviously relieved that Chris was not pushing him.  Some of the tension was already easing from his body.

"Nah," replied Chris, unable to resist teasing his partner just a little.  "I think one of us having a complete personality change in an evening is enough.  I'm going to order takeout."

Sam snorted.  "Don't know then.  Chinese?"

"I was thinking pizza," said Chris.  Now he knew Sam's real feelings, he was prepared to push a little.  His suggestion got the disgusted look he'd expected, but for once Sam didn't argue.

"Okay," he said, both his tone and the expression on his face long suffering.

"Must be love," Chris shot back, grinning, "if you're prepared to eat pizza."  Sam was still staring at that blasted pad, but his ears went a little pink.  It didn't take his partner long however, to recover his vaunted equilibrium.

"Must be," he replied urbanely.  "But if you order anchovies on it, it's over Keel."

Chris didn't push his luck any further, grabbing the phone book and ordering a large pepperoni pizza from the nearest Domino's.  When he'd placed the order he moved back to the couch, standing in front of it this time.  Sam looked up at him quizzically when he blocked his light.

"Be about forty five minutes," he explained.  Sam nodded again, glancing once more at his notes.  "What are we going to do until then?" Chris continued.

"Read up on our case," replied Sam, frowning slightly as he looked up at him.  Chris just grinned back.  Sam sighed.  "Work before play, Chris.  Remember?"

Chris reached down and snatched the pad from Sam's hand, flinging it over the back of the sofa, ignoring Sam's startled look.  "You finally got around to telling me you love me, Curtis," said Chris, moving to straddle his partner.  "You can't expect me to spend the next forty five minutes reading files."  They stared at each other for a long moment before Sam relented.

"Guess not," he said with a smile, flinging his pen after the pad and pulling Chris down on top of him.  "What did you have in mind?"

Chris decided to demonstrate what was on his mind by kissing him thoroughly.  He couldn't get his fill of kissing Sam, didn't get to kiss him enough.  Before, during and after sex usually, and seldom at other times.  The small part of his brain that was still capable of rational thought wondered whether that would change now.  The rest of his brain was taken up with processing the feeling of Sam's lips against him, Sam's tongue stroking along his and the gentle undulations of Sam's body against his as his partner rocked against him.  By the time he pulled back they were both panting slightly, and Sam's face had that flushed and aroused look about it that did nothing to ease Chris' own level of need.  God, his partner was attractive when he was turned on.  And there was no doubt that Sam was turned on.  Chris could feel the Englishman's arousal pressed against his thigh through their clothing.  Definitely turned on.  To test this theory further Chris shifted position, rubbing himself against Sam experimentally and forcing a moan from both of them.

Sam's hands were on the move, stroking down his back and then up under the loose top he wore, drawing it up over his head.  It looked as though Sam was intent on getting them both naked as quickly as possible, and Chris had no problem with that.  He sat up slightly and moved his own hands to the fastenings of Sam's shirt, popping the buttons free one by one.  When Sam's body was free to his gaze he bent his head and began a slow exploration of his lover's body with his mouth.

It wasn't long before Sam was writhing beneath him as he slowly drove him mad, each nip and lick forcing another moan out of his partner.  Sam's whole body was flushed now as Chris dove unerringly for all of the hotspots he'd discovered on previous forays.  Before too long, Sam had reached the end of his endurance, and surged up underneath him, twisting the pair of them so that now Sam was on top, his weight pressing the American's body into the couch.

If Chris was expecting an all out assault, payback for his tormenting of his lover, he was surprised.  Instead of launching himself at the ex-Navy SEAL, Sam contented himself with gazing down at him for a moment, his face peaceful, before he leant down and gently captured Chris' lips with his own.  Chris had no problem with that either.

There was less urgency now, the heat between them building more slowly as Sam released Chris' mouth with a satisfied sigh and began kissing his way gently down Chris' body, almost as though he were worshiping him with his mouth.  Chris lay there stunned, his heart pounding in his chest, and not just from arousal.  This was so different from the Sam he knew, this almost diffident gentleness so very different from the 'Sam' he was permitted to see that for a moment Chris' heart showed clearly in his eyes.  And when Sam looked up and caught his gaze, for once it didn't seem to frighten the Englishman.  Instead his mouth curled up in a slight smile and he moved upwards to catch Chris' mouth again.

Chris deepened the kiss, now longer content with gentleness, delving deeply into his lover's mouth.  The heat flared suddenly between them, burning brighter with each thrust and suck of their tongues and Chris moaned helplessly.  His hand snaked down Sam's body, sliding into the waistband of his jeans.  When the tightness of the clothing prevented him from getting any further, he pulled his hand free and, one-handed, fumbled the fastenings open.  The other hand was buried in Sam's hair as he continued to plunder his lover's mouth.

Finally he was able to grasp Sam's erection, feeling the other man surge against him as he did so.  Sam pulled back from kissing him and buried his head in Chris' shoulder moaning softly as the American began to stroke him firmly.  Chris eased back slightly so that he could see what he was doing, alternating between watching Sam and watching what his hand was doing to Sam.  He dragged his thumbnail lightly over the end of Sam's cock, feeling the shudders that ran through Sam's body as he did so.

"Stop," gasped Sam, grasping his wrist and pulling his hand away.  Chris stared at him perplexed as Sam raised his head from his shoulder.  "I want you," Sam explained.

"You have me," replied Chris simply.

Sam shook his head, his normal savoir-faire almost completely gone in the heat of passion.  "In me," he elaborated.  "I want you in me."