Sam was eyeing up a blonde this morning. I don't think he did it consciously but he was definitely giving her the once over. We were on a stakeout, sitting comfortably at an outside table on one of those boulevards of the type that Sam loves about Paris, which made a nice change from a cramped car like the one we're in now, and she walked past. She was just his type. Tall, blonde, leggy and gorgeous, and I think his eyes just automatically followed her. When he realised I'd noticed he flushed and apologised. It was sweet actually, if such a word could be applied to my partner. I didn't mind much, as long as he looks and doesn't touch. I told him I expected him to be faithful, not dead. He smiled a little at that.

Faithfulness. One of Sam's 'ground rules'. He set them after our first night together. I was so pleased that we were together I would have agreed to anything. To tell the truth, I don't have a problem with them. Most of them were pretty much what I would have expected and I think the only reason that Sam insisted on spelling them out is so that he could feel that he retained some control. Sam's big on control. I don't mean over me. He's never tried to control me, either professionally or personally, and I wouldn't stand for it if he tried, he knows that. I mean that our professional lives are such a careening out of control mess most of the time that he feels that he needs some control in his personal life. Maybe that's why he doesn't like letting people close. Except me. So the 'ground rules' thing didn't really surprise me.

Okay, the faithfulness thing surprised me. So did the six months thing. The rest - work first, we don't fool around on missions, we don't do anything to draw attention to ourselves and piss Malone off, yadda, yadda. As far as faithfulness goes, I protested that I had no intention of being unfaithful, and he asked, "And what was the name of that woman you were seeing the same time as Amanda? Susan? Sarah?" He never could remember the names of my girlfriends, except Amanda and she was tall, blonde, leggy and gorgeous so she was bound to stick in his memory.

"Sasha," I replied. "And that was different."

"Different how?" He was sprawled on the bed, I remember, naked but for the sheet pulled up to his waist, still glowing slightly in that postcoital haze and grinning at me.

"It wasn't serious and I didn't love either of them." That wiped the smile off his face. Thinking about that still hurts a bit. I've learnt the hard way not to mention the 'L' word around Sam. He gets that haunted and hunted look in his eyes. I live with it only because I'm waiting for the day that I can say it to him without him thinking that I'm about to rip his heart out of his chest. "Faithfulness I can handle," I told him, hiding the hurt. "I'm just a little surprised is all."

"Surprised why?"

"Didn't think it would be your thing." I definitely remember the glare he gave me then. He was seriously pissed at me.

"Let me get this right. I'm to rest assured that you will be faithful to me, but I'll probably be after anything in a skirt?"

I shrugged I think, and told him simply, "I don't want anyone else. But you? Well, you might be right about the skirt thing, with the emphasis on skirt."

He didn't say anything for a long time, but I don't think he was pissed anymore. He was giving me one of those searching looks I get when he wants to know what I'm up to rather than one of his 'one more word and I'll tear your head off, Keel' looks he gives me when I've annoyed him. That happens more frequently than you'd think and it's not always accidental. Finally he said, "I knew what I was getting into Chris. I won't be chasing anything while we're together." Woo-hoo. Commitment. Get him to say the 'L' word and I'll be floating for a month. And yes, I know sarcasm is the lowest form of wit - Sam tells me that frequently, usually when I've been sarcastic about him.

Now the six months thing scares even me. My cool, logical, controlled partner has it all worked out. If we last six months we are officially serious, in his mind at least. And once we are serious, given the caveats attached to CI5's fraternisation rules, we have to inform the powers that be. In other words we tell Malone.

We've been together over three months now. I think I'd be terrified if there wasn't this nasty little voice in my mind that keeps whispering to me that come five and a half months Sam is going to decide that he's given me all he can reasonably be expected to give me, and it's Sayonara Keel. I try to ignore it. It's easier during the day, when I'm with Sam and he seems, to me at least, as easy with me as he's ever been. It's harder at night when I'm alone, and that happens more often than not. We lost six agents on the last drugs cartel operation, two dead and four out with injury. With our workload recently Sam's no sex on missions rule is looking less and less attractive, even to him. So much so, in fact, that I got him to break it last night.

Just thinking about that makes me smile. He didn't take that much persuading once I'd pointed out that while we were technically on assignment, it could also be said that since we had handed surveillance for the evening over to Team Two we were technically off-duty, at least for the night. And besides, we hadn't had sex for over a week and I was horny, and he knew how distracted I got when I was horny.

He gave in at that point, laughing and saying that we couldn't have that, could we? It's at times like last night that I know why I love him, and I don't just mean the sex, although that's pretty damn fantastic. I mean, it's like that's the only time he feels safe enough to let his guard down, and I can see how perfect it would be if he could let it down all of the time. Will be. I have to believe it will be, that it's a matter of time and not just a possibility that will never come to be.

Instead of concentrating on our assignment my mind keeps wandering to last night, and is it any wonder? It was fucking fantastic. Actually, it was fantastic fucking. Technically, the first time for us, and the first time ever for Sam, well with a man anyway. We'd been working up to it for a while, skirting around the subject, and finally I'd had enough skirting and came straight out and asked him. Him in me, not the other way around. I don't think he's quite ready for that yet. I thought I may have pushed too far too fast as it was, but he was remarkably agreeable. And remarkably adept.

It had been a while for me, and it wasn't something I'd done a lot of anyway, so it was a little uncomfortable at first, but he was slow and careful, which was a pleasant surprise, and it wasn't long before I was really enjoying myself. Really, really enjoying myself. And he did too, maybe more than he expected. He held me for a long time afterwards as well. Not that he doesn't normally hold me, because he does, but this was different somehow. We just cuddled up together, my back to his chest, and he held me, pressing these little kisses on my back and shoulders occasionally, until I fell asleep. It's at times like that I think that maybe we do have a future together.

I asked him how he knew what to do this morning when we were still snuggled up together in bed, and he gave me that look, the one that says he was wondering when I'd ask and what took me so long. And then he grinned at me, and rather sheepishly admitted that he'd done some research. I think I probably looked as astonished as I felt. He just shrugged, and still grinning explained that since he was a bit of a novice at all this, and since he knew that sooner or later I'd bring the subject up, me not being the patient sort and all, he thought he'd better do some reading around the subject. I just stared at him, trying to find my voice, and then I asked him, "Where?" I had this vision of him sneaking into Waterstones for a copy of 'The Joy of Gay Sex' or something.

He smirked at me. "Modern technology has its benefits, Chris." It took me a second to cotton on.

"The internet? You looked it up on the internet?" I still don't know why that surprised me. It's just typically Sam - reading around the subject no matter what the subject is. And then I just got this picture in my head of him sitting at his desktop, that little crease between his brows he gets when he's really concentrating, surfing gay porn, and then I wondered if he took notes, and that was it - I cracked up. "Oh please," I managed to gasp out between laughs. "Please tell me that you didn't do it in the office."

He gave me a mock wounded look. "I'm not that stupid, Chris." He paused and grinned. "Although it might just have been worth it just to see Backup's face next time she reviews the access logs." That cracked me up further.

"Find any good sites?" I teased him once I'd calmed down enough to be capable of speech. He smirked at me.

"One or two interesting ones," he replied. "And let me say now that there are some things we are never going to do!"

I thought of teasing him further, something along the lines of never say never, but decided discretion is the better part of valour, and kept my mouth shut. I did ask him if he'd bookmarked them though.

"Yeah," he said. "And even better - I know Spencer's log-on password." That cracked us both up. I mean, Spencer's a good guy and all, but he can be a little anal at times, and this coming from a guy who has Sam as a partner. Not that I'd have any one else as my partner, and especially not now.

"Thanks," I said. I think he was surprised, because he did that one eyebrow raised thing he does.

"For?"

"Caring enough to look it up." For once talking seriously didn't freak him.

"Wanted to make sure I knew what I was doing," he said, and just the tone in his voice made me want him again. It was soft and intense at the same time. "I wanted it to be good."

"It was," I told him, and I meant it. And while we were on the subject… "Can we do it again?" I asked hopefully. He groaned, and muttered something about a kid in a candy store. I took that as a yes, although as always work called, and since we would technically be on-duty soon, I knew I had a snowball's chance in hell of getting him to ravish again me then. Still there's hope for the future…

"What are you smirking about?"

Sam's voice interrupts my reverie. I grin at him, I hope lecherously. "Guess." He rolls his eyes, but for once doesn't make a smart-arse comment about work coming first. I just sit and watch him for a while, while he leans on the steering wheel and stares intently at the warehouse in the back streets of Paris that we've been assigned to watch. Gunrunners or suspected ones anyway. Routine, run of the mill destruction and mayhem - meat in the sandwich to CI5.

He's beautiful, and I can't get my fill of him. If only I could shake this feeling that it won't last because nothing in my life ever does. Suddenly he looks at me, and out of the blue he gives me one of those heart-stopping smiles of his. Before I have a chance to even smile back, dazzled as I am, he's all business again.

"I think they're on the move," he says, nodding towards the large double doors, which are indeed starting to crack open. "Ready?"

"As I'll ever be," I say, and get another quick smile, a normal one this time. I grab my weapon and with a quick exchange of nods we're on the move.

Maybe, just maybe…