Now it was Daniel's bet and he'd zoned out again. Jack and Carter exchanged a glance over their cards.

"That's what, the second time he's done that?" Jack commented.

"Third," Teal'c put in.

Carter looked more worried and called Daniel's name softly, but there was no response.

"Daniel," Jack said, louder, and waved a hand in front of Daniel's face.

Daniel jumped and the creases in his face smoothed out as he focused on Jack for a moment, before looking round at the identical concerned expressions on Carter and Teal'c's faces. "Jack?"

"You zoned out again," he explained, a mixture of worry and fear in his voice. "For five minutes this time."

"Sorry." Daniel frowned, but didn't volunteer any more details of what he'd been remembering.

Jack hesitated to ask again. The last time this had happened they'd been on P2X 445 two days ago and despite Daniel looking like he'd been in pain when he'd come out of it, he'd refused to tell Jack what it had all been about, beyond it being a memory from when he was Ascended. Jack had been sure Daniel knew more than that, but he hadn't said anything, giving Daniel the chance to volunteer more information himself. When nothing had been forthcoming he'd hoped their weekly team night would help, what with being off the base and at Jack's house. Daniel had felt comfortable here once.

Teal'c broke the lengthening silence. "It is your bet, Daniel Jackson."

"Ah, right." Daniel straightened up and considered his cards. "I'll call." He added some more cash to the pile in the center of the table.

Jack was unsurprised to find that merely added to Teal'c's win and he was glad to hear the doorbell announcing the arrival of the pizza.

"I'll help you," Carter said, following him to the door. That last round had cleaned her out too and Jack wondered just how long Daniel could hold out against the might of Teal'c. Especially since Daniel had drunk over half of his beer.

Carter took the pizzas while Jack paid for them out of the money he'd been keeping back for the purpose. "What are we going to do about Daniel, sir?" she asked quietly, as the door closed.

Jack sighed. "Let him finish that bottle of beer?" he suggested, half-seriously, putting his change back in his pocket.

"I think you should talk to him."

He frowned and tried to take the pizzas from Carter, but she held on tightly to them. "Why me?" Jack had been very careful to keep his real feelings for Daniel hidden from Carter and Teal'c. If she had known what had gone on between them before Daniel Ascended, she'd never so much as hinted at it before.

"Have you seen the way he keeps looking at you?"

Even if he was sure she didn't mean in that way, his heart skipped a beat anyway. He was careful not to change his expression and Carter carried on without waiting for an answer.

"It's that same protective look you get about him sometimes. Whatever he's remembering from when he was Ascended, I'm sure it has something to do with you."

There was one thing it could be, but since it was something Jack didn't like to think about at all, he wasn't keen to discuss it with Daniel. "Then I'm the last person he should talk to." To forestall her argument, he snatched the pizzas off her and took them into the living room, where Teal'c had just won the last of Daniel's money.

Daniel smiled at the sight of the pizzas and they all dug in, while Teal'c explained just what he'd done to his Wii Fit to necessitate buying a new one with all the money he'd won tonight. Jack ignored Carter's pointed looks at him and told Teal'c he was banned from future poker games. At the rate he was going Teal'c would end up having to pay Jack's mortgage within a year.

Fortunately, Daniel suggested a game called senet, which he and Teal'c then waxed enthusiastically about for a good ten minutes. Jack established from their conversation that it was a game Teal'c had played as a child and Sha're taught to Daniel on Abydos. Apparently Daniel was sure he knew where he could get hold of a set and Jack ended up agreeing to play it at their next team night.

Jack allowed Daniel to finish his beer without comment, even though he had pointedly taken it away from him earlier in the evening. Daniel didn't even notice how warm it had gotten, which wasn't a good sign, even though he hadn't zoned out at all since they started eating.

Afterwards Teal'c suggested a game of Rock Band on the Wii he'd brought with him. Jack didn't remember who had first shown Teal'c the Wii, but he would bet anything it was now Teal'c's favorite thing about Earth. It had been a slippery slope from beating everyone at boxing and bowling, to Teal'c and Carter's arguments over who was better at Rock Band. Jack hadn't even known Carter was that musical, but that was typical Carter, being good at everything. Jack and Daniel were usually happy to just watch and not make fools of themselves. Jack knew this would be the perfect time to talk to Daniel even without the pointed looks Carter gave him as Teal'c set the game up.

Daniel sat in the corner of the couch, right where he used to sit before he Ascended. It was the first time Jack had seen him sit there since he came back and he couldn't help smiling at the sight before he settled back beside him, another beer in his hand.

Under cover of the song Teal'c and Carter were playing to, Jack turned to Daniel and, keeping his voice quiet enough not to be heard by the other two, said, "So, what is it?"

"Mm?" Daniel frowned and sounded like he was concentrating more on the game than on Jack.

"What you've been remembering," he clarified.

Daniel didn't say anything, just blinked, but Jack knew Daniel knew what he was talking about. When he still said nothing, Jack decided to up the ante a little. "You keep zoning out. I can't take someone off world who might not be concentrating when there are people are trying to kill us."

"I remembered Ba'al torturing you," Daniel said all of a sudden.

As much as Jack knew that it would help Daniel to talk about what he had been remembering, he just couldn't do it. "I've been trying not to," he said and turn his attention back to the television screen. The song came to an end with a new high score and Jack jumped up before Teal'c could click on 'Play again'. "How about a game of baseball," he suggested, and picked Wii Sports out of the pile of Teal'c's games.

"I will beat you, O'Neill."

Jack smiled at the challenge. "Don't count on it."

Carter sighed. "I'll sit this one out." She took Jack's place on the couch next to Daniel, who hadn't said anything. Jack didn't expect him to either.

Since it was Teal'c's game, Jack let him bat first. It was easier to eavesdrop on Carter and Daniel's conversation while he pitched. It wasn't that he didn't care what Daniel had gone through, it was more that he didn't want to dream about it tonight.

"Ba'al tortured Jack," Daniel said. Carter hadn't even had to ask anything.

"I know," Carter replied, almost too quietly for Jack to hear. "He spent a day in the infirmary when he got back."

Jack had spent half that day asleep and the other half trying to get Dr. Fraiser to let him out.

Teal'c scored a run and the Wii crowd went wild. Carter and Daniel said nothing and Jack wasn't sure if that was because they were used to Teal'c being good at all the Wii games or because they weren't really watching. He wasn't going to turn round to find out.

"I couldn't do anything to stop him." Daniel sounded frustrated. "The only thing I could do was to take away some of Jack's pain."

"And that's what you were remembering?"

Daniel must have nodded, because they were both quiet while Teal'c finished his turn at bat and Jack was up.

"There's something else important I'm forgetting. From before I was Ascended."

Jack completely failed to swing his bat, he was so busy listening to what Daniel might say next.

"Are you ready O'Neill?"

Jack nodded and this time he hit the ball far enough to get a double.

"I'm going to get some water," Carter said. "Playing guitar is thirsty work."

"I'll come with you," Daniel said, and Jack heard them both go off to the kitchen. Which at least meant he'd equalled Teal'c's score by the time the inning ended.

He could hear their low voices carrying over the sound of the game. He wasn't sure if he was glad or annoyed not to be able to hear the words. If they were talking about what Daniel had been remembering when he was zoning out, then Jack thought it was probably just as well they were in another room. It was in the past and he'd prefer not to know any more details now.

In the end, Teal'c did beat him. It was only because he was distracted, but he wasn't going to tell Teal'c the reason why, so he didn't offer it as an excuse.

As Teal'c packed up, Carter came back into the living room and gave him a sympathetic look. She'd been worried about him at the time, he got that, but he didn't want any of them to be reliving it now. She turned it into a smile when she noticed he was watching her.

Daniel followed her, looking happier, so that was something. Except that he frowned at the couch and stood there, unmoving, looking at the spot he'd been sitting in earlier.

"Something wrong with my couch?" Jack kept his tone jokey, wanting Daniel to relax enough to tell him what he was thinking.

"No," Daniel replied, slowly. "Just something I've forgotten."

Jack wondered if it was the same thing Daniel had mentioned to Carter earlier. He wanted to ask Daniel if he remembered anything about his feelings for Jack before he'd Ascended, but Carter and Teal'c were only in the hall and it wasn't a conversation he wanted to have with them listening. So instead he said, "If it's important, it'll come back to you."

Daniel nodded and smiled.

Jack was tempted to touch him, to help him remember, but he could wait. The moment would be so much sweeter when Daniel had all of his memories back of the time when he and Jack had been together. For now, Jack had to let him go and hope that the next time Daniel zoned out it was because of a memory from before he Ascended, rather than during.

"I thought you liked me this close," Jack said, grinning.

"I do. I'd just rather have a little more room, if it's all the same to you."

Jack frowned. "You're not claustrophobic."

"Aren't I?"

"It's okay, I know a cure." Jack's cure started with kissing and then moved onto other things. Ianto might have protested - he was busy trying not to have a panic attack after all - but it was at least taking his mind off the very small box they were both trapped in.

Jack Harkness might well be a Captain, but not in any military I know. There's none that would ever sanction his conduct towards men or women. Why, if I acted the way he did I'd have been thrown out on my ear years ago! Not that I would ever flirt with men or treat women so badly. Oh, he doesn't do anything too terrible: if he did I'd intervene. No, I think he thinks everyone is here purely for his own enjoyment and there's nothing that stops him from flirting with every man here. And this project is entirely staffed by military personnel, so you can imagine how his behaviour is received.

In fact, the answer is: quite well, considering. The women love him, the men tolerate him and I wouldn't be surprised if he'd flirted with the base commander: a man you wouldn't cross unless you particularly enjoy having everyone on the project hear exactly how he thinks you've screwed up. Perhaps Harkness doesn't care, I don't know.

Yet I can't help admiring him, just a little, but I wouldn't admit to it even if you pointed a gun at me. He's entirely uncaring of how society tells us he should act and never minds what anyone's opinion is of him. His life seems free, I think. Not that I'd ever be tempted to act as he does, it just wouldn't be proper.

And I do wish he would give up flirting with me. Why on earth he thinks I'll ever give in to him, I don't know.

"You British, you're all so repressed." He said that on a nearly daily basis. Sometimes I answered him, sometimes I ignored him. Today I chose to answer.

"Maybe you should go back to America in that case."

"Where's the fun in that?" Harkness grinned. "You're all so in the closet it's amazing you can see at all."

I folded my arms. "Was there something you wanted, Harkness?"

"Call me Jack." He lowered his voice in a way that I imagine is supposed to be sexy. Of course, it had no such effect on me.

"Was there something you wanted, Captain?" Everyone on the project went by their title or last name, but Harkness had to be different. Most people did call him Jack, I just didn't intend to be one of them. That would imply a far closer relationship with him than I'd like.

Harkness sighed. "One day, Harry, I swear, one day..." He left the threat at that and walked away. I couldn't say I was scared, particularly.

~*~*~

Although it was Harry and Sarah's annual dinner date Harry hadn't been to it for so many years now that he didn't think it qualified as annual any more. Neither was he at all sure Sarah would show up. He had just assumed she'd remember the date and be there as always and it was only once he was in the usual restaurant that he wondered if that was the case at all. It wasn't that she was particularly flighty, just busy and even if she did remember she might have something more important to do.

To while away the time he drank water, fiddled with his cuffs, loosened his cravat and then tightened it again, and told himself that Sarah was often late. There was always an excuse - usually some story she was running to or from and Harry would always find himself ending up being understanding by the end of the night, however annoying it was when he was sat alone at their table at 8 o'clock on the dot.

Just as he was smoothing out a non-existent crease in the tablecloth, he thought he heard her voice, followed by another that sounded awfully like someone he'd known twenty years ago. He couldn't quite hear what they were saying over the Italian background music and he had convinced himself that it was unlikely it was him when Sarah came into view, followed by the man Harry had half-hoped never to see again: Jack Harkness.

Harry didn't want to know what she was doing with him, but as they were headed for the table Harry sat at, he was probably best off assuming Sarah was innocent and just here for their dinner and he would ignore Harkness for the moment. There was always a chance that would work, even if it was only a slim one.

He smiled at Sarah and pulled out her chair as she said, "I heard a rumour that your current assignment had finished."

So that explained how she knew to come here this year, although not how she'd found out in the first place. That she knew at all he was unsurprised by - Sarah hated mysteries and would have gone out of her way to solve his disappearance. And to think he thought he'd made himself hard to find too.

She didn't sit down yet and Harkness was still hovering, so Harry was glad she hadn't said or done anything else to give Harkness something to watch. "You look well, Sarah." He was glad to see it - he had worried about what she might be getting up to while he was away and couldn't keep an eye on her. "But how would you know anything about my current assignment?"

"I've got contacts." That told him nothing, since he already knew that. "Oh, Harry, have you met Jack Harkness?" She waved in Harkness's general direction. "Jack, this is Harry Sullivan."

Harkness looked as if he hadn't aged a day and there was a glint in his eye that told Harry he recognised him, despite Harry's now-greying hair and wrinkled skin. Harry was sure he was blushing, given the amusement Sarah was struggling not to show and Harkness's chuckle. His salute wasn't a help either, even if it was an acknowledgement that Harry now outranked a mere Captain. "You're still looking quite fit, sailor."

Harry wondered if the floor could just open up now and save him from the memories Harkness was deliberately triggering with his words. "Sir," was all he dared say at this point, and he saluted back, temporarily allowing the ingrained actions to take over, so he didn't have to think.

Harry looked over at Sarah, hoping she hadn't noticed the undercurrents of his conversation with Harkness or guessed what really went on between the two of them. He still worried that she did know something and fervently wished she hadn't brought Harkness over here at all. Given that she'd introduced them she probably knew nothing of the history between them, but it didn't set his mind at rest particularly.

Before any of them could say anything more, Harkness reached out and shook Harry's hand and Harry heartily wished he'd had notice of that so he could have wiped it on his trouser leg first. "It was good seeing you both again, but my party has arrived so I must take my leave."

Feelings he hadn't thought about for years came rushing back as he stood there, holding Harkness's hand and looking into eyes that told him Harkness remembered as much as he did. Harkness squeezed Harry's hand before he released it and then turned to Sarah to give her a flirtatious look and say, "Still looking good, ma'am."

Harry frowned at his retreating back, wondering just how Sarah knew him and what the two of them had got up to. The thought went straight out of his mind when he saw Harkness's date was a young man, who Harkness had no second thoughts about kissing in a crowded restaurant. Harry swallowed hard at the sight and found that no matter how much he wanted to, he couldn't keep his eyes off the pair.

Fortunately, he was interrupted by the sound of Sarah sitting down, and Harry went back to his side of the table to sit opposite her and pour her a glass of water while he recovered his composure.

"I hadn't realised you two had met before," she said, just as curious as he remembered.

That much was obvious from Harkness's actions, however cautious Harry had tried to be. "I worked with Torchwood on a project back in the 80s, before we lost the funding." Which was the exact truth of how they'd met, if not how they knew each other. "And how do you know him?" He couldn't help but continue to be suspicious about that.

"It's not what you think," she replied, taking a sip of her water. "He's another former companion of the Doctor who I met during the Dalek invasion. The Doctor says hello by the way." She took the wine list from him and began studying it.

"How would you know what I think? And when have you ever cared about my opinion?" It wasn't an accusation since Sarah didn't really care about anyone's opinion. She was like Harkness in that respect, if no other, thankfully. He smiled at her to misdirect her attention as she glanced up from the wine list. "I don't think I ever got used to him flirting with everything that moves." And he didn't think he ever would.

~*~*~

I swear I have never seen the like before. Even Sarah's description of the Doctor's regeneration had nothing on this. In light of what happened I really couldn't be blamed for dropping the tray of instruments I was carrying at the time. Ten years ago I'd definitely said such a thing was impossible, but since then I've seen so many seemingly-impossible things that this was merely improbable. Albeit very improbable. "What are you?" He couldn't possibly be human.

"I'm not a robot, if that's what you're thinking."

No, I've seen robots and Harkness definitely isn't one of them. The way he sat up, grinning and not caring when the sheet fell off him rather suggested he was human.

"I'm self-healing." He jumped off the bed and took advantage of my inattention to stand nearly nose to nose with me. I was focussed on his wound, I swear. "I can't die."

I rather noticed that and I frowned at him, since that told me very little. "How long as this been going on?" I reached out a hand because I couldn't believe my own eyes telling me the wound was no longer there. I honestly had no other reason for wanting to touch him.

Not that he cared anyway. "Since the Daleks killed me." There was a sadness in his voice I'd never heard before.

It made me look up at his face. "You've met them?"

"So have you. Nasty little critters, aren't they?" His grin was back already.

Those weren't the words I'd have used, but I knew what he meant. They're certainly not a race I'd ever like to see again. "How is this possible?" People didn't just get up again after Daleks killed them and I couldn't think of any medical reason that would explain it. He didn't answer at first and I bent down to pick up my tray as I mulled over the tests I could do on Harkness to find out what was going on.

His hand clasped mine as I picked up the tweezers. "I've had every medical test known to man run on me. They all say I'm just an ordinary human being. You won't find anything."

As extraordinary as it all sounds I was inclined to believe him. Whatever Harkness is like in public, from the unfortunate few times I've been alone with him I've noticed he's perfectly honest and open in private. Besides, it wasn't as if I could do anything without his consent. So I nodded, but Harkness still didn't let go of my hand. In fact, he brought it up to his mouth and kissed the back of it. I was too startled to do anything to stop him, or even take my hand away afterwards.

"I do love a man who works out." He still had one hand free to run across my chest and there was only my shirt between us, it being summer and no need for more layers.

I wasn't sure what he meant at all, except I knew it was a compliment and there was none of his usual flirty tone beneath it. Why my palms became so suddenly sweaty or my heartbeat increased I couldn't say. When Harkness leaned closer and kissed me I felt it would be rude not to return it.

When he pulled away from me I couldn't have said that I wanted him to stop at all.

~*~*~

"No one can find out." Jack had discovered, at some stage, just how to get me to make a noise and he did it now, running his teeth along my collarbone and I couldn't help gasping. But as much as I would in all likelihood enjoy whatever he planned to follow that up with, I really needed to have this conversation before it was too late. So I put a hand under Jack's chin to make him face me.

His answer was to grin and kiss me. Just because he didn't care didn't mean I was the same. I valued my career and didn't intend to have it end because of him. I rolled my eyes before I closed them, but at least Jack didn't make it a long kiss and afterwards he asked, "What's the big secret for?"

"This is illegal in the Navy. If they find out we've been..." I couldn't bring myself to say the words, it would make it sound so wrong, no matter how it had felt. "I'll be thrown out."

"There's no fun in an ex-sailor." He put on a mock-sad expression that didn't fool me for a moment.

I sighed. "This is important." Of all things I desperately needed Jack not to treat this as a joke. It mattered to me.

"All right. But we'll have to carry on the same way as before. I'll still flirt with everyone, including you," he punctuated the last two words with a lowered voice and a hand moving down my stomach, "and you give me funny looks and resist."

I shook my head - I don't know what he was thinking. "I don't give you funny--"

Jack cut me off with another kiss and I tried to pretend the funny feeling in my stomach wasn't jealousy at imagining Jack with other people. I didn't have much success, but Jack was good at taking one's mind off things.

A bottle of red, a bottle of white
Whatever kind of mood you're in tonight
I'll meet you any time you want
In our Italian Restaurant.

Remus had once pointed out that mentally he'd never quite made it past sixteen when it came to sex, although Sirius thought he hadn't been that bad when Remus had updated him on current contraceptive methods so he could pass the information onto Harry. However, he could that tell the red colour of Harry's face was only based on his memories and not the humour of the situation, given that he didn't smile at all. It was one thing to laugh about the event with your contemporaries, but another to do so with your godfather. In an attempt to rescue the situation as quickly as possible once Harry had finished, Sirius pointed out, "There is more to contraception than condoms."

Harry instantly put the packet down and crossed his legs. For a moment Sirius fancied himself a bit of a teacher after all and sat up straighter on the bed. "There are potions girls can take to prevent them from getting pregnant and charms that do the same thing. Except they're not quite as reliable. So I hear." It's not as if he had any reliable evidence to back that up with, apart from Remus's say so. Not that Remus's word was unreliable, but if Harry asked him for proof of that statement, he couldn't rely on Remus's say so, what with Remus not being a girl.

"Oh, so there's nothing I have to do." Harry relaxed and breathed out a relieved sigh.

Sirius frowned. Harry was always so studious that he hadn't expected him to treat this like his father had. Although once Lily actually agreed to go out with James, he had suddenly found a pressing need to impress her with his contraceptive knowledge. "This is a serious business. What would you do if you found out you'd got a girl pregnant? Or caught an STD?"

"I know that." He squirmed anyway. "I just thought that would the the end of the Talk."

Frankly, Sirius felt the same way, but Remus had gone to so much trouble to make sure the others were out of the way - again - so he wasn't going to stop now. Besides, Remus would only ask how it went and he was rubbish at lying to Remus. So then he'd be forced to go back and finish the job and that would be even worse, despite it being his idea in the first place.

In the interests of making sure Sirius was thorough, Remus had left his visual aids in the top drawer of the bedside table. Sirius leaned back, reached over to open it and then fished around inside. When he pulled out a piece of parchment he was careful to make sure Harry didn't see the bottle filled with white liquid he and Remus had left at the front. "This charm's just as effective whoever casts it. I'd learn that one if I were you."

Harry took it from him and read it. "Can I take this away?"

Sirius nodded. He couldn't expect anyone to learn it that fast. Especially not with someone else watching what they were doing. "Of course. It's Remus's anyway, but I don't think he needs it back."

Although Harry frowned he said nothing, just rolled the parchment up and stuck it in the back pocket of his jeans.

When Sirius rummaged in the drawer again he nearly came to grief. For all he knew Harry would one day need lube, but there was no way he was going to discuss that now. He was still coming to terms with the idea of little Harry having sex at all. He managed to distract Harry from what he was hiding by laying down the two bottles on the bed between them. "These are for men to take. One's spermicide, the other prevents STDs."

Harry nodded, understanding, and picked the purple one up and studied it. "Which one's which?"

Sirius opened his mouth to answer but closed it again when he realised he wasn't sure. He looked between them but there was no brilliant flash of inspiration and he wouldn't be able to get away with calling Remus up to ask him. He was torn between guessing and telling Harry the truth, but he didn't want Harry to think he knew nothing. In the end he didn't have to make a choice because he was silent long enough for Harry to guess the reason why.

"It's alright. McGonagall told us condoms are always best because they prevent STDs and pregnancy at the same time." He smiled and Sirius wondered for a moment at Harry making him feel better. Not that it worked.

"I'm sorry, I'm a terrible godfather. These are the sort of things I should know." Even if Remus had never wanted the job Sirius wished James had given it to him anyway.

Harry shook his head and scooted closer to pat Sirius on the shoulder. "I don't mind. I mean, I'd rather you hadn't." Sirius smiled as Harry's blush reddened. "But it's the thought that counts."

At that Sirius pulled Harry into a hug. He was determined to be the best godfather anyone had ever had. Even if that meant knowing his own shortcomings. "I should still get Remus to fill you in on the bits I missed."

"That's probably a good idea," Harry agreed. "I reckon he'd be a lot less embarrassed than you were."

Sirius might have been inclined to agree had he not been able to vividly remember the events of a few days ago and how Remus's Sex Education lesson had ended.

~*~*~

Sirius has already forgotten the visual aids still laid out on the bed beside them. Potions and charms have certainly moved on since he was in Azkaban, so there's no doubt he needed Remus to catch him up on it all. He needs to understand this lot if he's going to be able to explain it all to Harry, even if not for any practical purpose. But he suspects that once upon a time, Remus had needed to know all about how to make sure not to get a girl pregnant.

He doesn't mind because Remus is here now, his head on Sirius's knee, enjoying the feel of Sirius's hands in his hair. After doing most of the talking Remus is quiet now and though that doesn't usually worry Sirius, it does make him think.

"Remus, if you're worried that I care if you-"

Remus shakes his head suddenly, Sirius's fingers bumping into his head as he does so. "I'm not."

"Because I don't." He had, for maybe a minute, before the first time they made love, that summer after they were reunited. But since then he's hated the thought of Remus being lonely all those years he thought Sirius was a traitor and never coming back.

"I know." Remus's voice is confident as he replies, but he closes his eyes and gives a happy sigh.

Sirius doesn't stop what he's doing but can't help testing. "I was gone for a long time."

"I know." This time Remus's voice is wistful and it reminds Sirius how much he missed him.

Since his other hand's been doing nothing up till now, Sirius uses it to brush his fingers along Remus's jaw and cheek. Remus turns his hand into Sirius's touch and brings his own arm up to slip his palm under Sirius's trousers to rub against his ankle and Sirius shivers at the touch. The moment threatens to turn nostalgic and they've had enough of those times, so Sirius returns to teasing. "You know, maybe if I had some practical experience with those charms..."

When he doesn't finish the sentence, Remus opens his eyes and looks up at Sirius with laughter in his eyes. Sirius loves that he knows Remus will know exactly what he's hinting at. Although given their recent discussion, it's hardly much of a change of topic. "The contraceptive ones?"

Remus knows what Sirius thinks about girls - has always thought about girls - and although he doesn't share those opinions, he never minds. "I'm quite sure those aren't necessary."

"Then again, some people prefer the old-fashioned method." Remus looks away, down the bed.

Sirius follows his gaze to where there are three discarded potion bottles: one purple, one clear, one white. He wonders where Remus gets the latter one from since he's always been embarrassed about that sort of thing when it's for himself. He frowned. "That lube..."

Remus smiles. "I may be pants at potions, but I make those fairly well."

Remus did always manage to come up with the goods when it came to exams, but that's not what Sirius is thinking of now. He knows Remus just needs a good reason and Sirius has always been an incentive. Sirius laughs and says, "I think they may need some product testing."

When he leans down it makes the angle awkward, but Remus puts an effort into the kiss that's only there when he hasn't seen Sirius for a while, and Sirius's toes curl, glad they have the house to themselves for a good while yet.

That's not the only surprise Remus has in store for him today and when he rolls his head off Sirius's knee and onto the bed he pulls Sirius down on top of him. Sirius is sort of sideways across him, but that doesn't stop Remus from kissing him fiercely and pulling Sirius's clothes all askew to rub his fingers along Sirius's skin. It's rare that Remus is so alpha male like this and Sirius likes it, so he lets him.

"I always liked you best," Remus whispers, relocating his mouth to Sirius's jaw and down his neck.

Sirius smiles because as much as he says he doesn't care - and he really doesn't - knowing that helps.

~*~*~

When the lesson started, Sirius had no idea what was in store for them. They'd all been expecting an ordinary Transfiguration lesson, but even Professor McGonagall handing out bananas gave them no clues. James had suggested what they might be changing it into, which they'd all laughed at, and Sirius had frowned at his small, straight and above all, slightly green banana. It was unlikely to be true because that was too simple for Fourth Years to be learning.

All became clear when she handed round little packets that at least some of the class recognised given from the titters the packets induced in some of the boys. The girls gave them looks that said they were above that sort of thing. Sirius was perfectly happy never to have anything to do with them. Remus, however, turned red on his cheeks and chin and, although he didn't mean it cruelly, Sirius laughed.

"Mr Black."

At McGonagall's voice Sirius's head snapped up and he was immediately silent.

"Perhaps you would like to explain these to the class instead?" McGongall stared at him, as she held up one of the still unopened packets.

Sirius shook his head, which for once McGonagall took as an answer and stepped backwards to address the whole class. "This," she explained," is the best way of preventing the spread of STDs and preventing unwanted pregnancy. Mr Black, can you name an STD for me?"

Horrified by this point, Sirius couldn't have told her his own name if she'd asked. Fortunately, Remus whispered, "Syphilis," and Sirius repeated it gratefully, not caring how Remus knew that.

"Thank you Mr Lupin." Sirius sighed - she never did miss a trick. "But you should have picked one without any 's' sounds, they always carry further when you whisper."

That explained a lot and Sirius was glad at least Padfoot and Mooney had no 's's in them. But Remus sank lower in his chair and Sirius was too busy envying Peter for being entirely 's' free to pay any attention to the names of any other STDs that lesson. It wasn't likely to be on their OWLs, so he wasn't going to worry about it.

"Now, it's very important that you put it on properly, otherwise you might as well not bother at all." McGonagall opened the packet and took out the colourless round shape inside. Sirius sat up straighter, having a sudden, horrifying, vision of what was going to be happening next. "A banana is a particularly good representation of the human penis."

There were a few giggles around the room at that, but McGonagll ignored them. Sirius looked disconsolately at his banana and then over to Remus's, which was long and bent in a nice banana-y curve. "Now watch as you carefully roll it onto the banana making sure not to stretch it too much or you'll make holes in it." She almost looked like she was caressing the banana.

"There's no way she learnt how to do that on the real thing," Peter whispered.

Sirius hoped not. Teachers having a sex life was a horrible thought.

James groaned. "I don't want to know."

"I'm never going to get that image out of my head." The whole lesson was going to be seared on his brain for life, particularly McGonagall bending over a condom-covered banana.

Once finished, she turned back to class to show off her banana. "Now it's your turn."

None of them dared move at first and Sirius, for one, was paralysed in fear. But McGonagall giving him the evil eye was enough to replace one fear with another and he tore open his packet. As he delicately put the condom on his own banana he looked of the corner of his eye at what Remus was doing and that gave him thoughts that weren't a good idea to dwell on in a public place, even if he was sat behind a desk. Worse was to come when McGonagall went round the class commenting on their technique and dispensing advice. Sirius wasn't sure he was all that pleased to receive only praise for his efforts.

After that, when Sirius thought he might die of embarrassment about the whole thing, she made it worse by going on to talk about male masturbation. In front of a class of girls and boys, if it hadn't been bad enough already. "It's a perfectly natural thing to do," she said and Sirius wondered how she could possibly know, since she'd never been a boy. Even the rumours didn't go that far.

And then, using the banana in a way that put Sirius off eating them for the rest of the term, she went on to use hers to demonstrate how it worked. Sirius didn't dare look away. It was like he was trapped, even though he didn't think for a minute his technique needed work given the number of times he practised it.

When at last, after what seemed like a week, the lesson ended she all too cheerfully said, "Throw those condoms away, they're no use now. But you can eat the bananas if you like."

None of them could leave the classroom quickly enough.

"I'm never eating a banana again," James said.

Nods and murmurs indicated everyone else agreed and Sirius thought he might be sick if he ever saw one again.

The worst of it was that after that, it completely put Sirius off wanking for a month: whenever he started he had an image of McGonagall in his mind and she was the biggest mood killer he'd ever known. It made him wonder for a while after that if it wasn't normal to do it that often after all, and the whole point of the lesson had been not to educate them about sex, but rather put them off the idea completely. If so, it had worked. Sirius made it all the way to seventeen before he cornered Remus and discovered just how good his masturbation technique was on someone else.

When John first starting sparring with Teyla he told himself envy had nothing to do with it. He was wrong but then that was never the only reason. He thought it would be an excellent opportunity to watch her - she was good to look at after all. He soon found out that he did indeed need to watch her carefully - just not in the way he first thought.

At the moment he was trying to give all of his attention to her right arm, since it was holding the stick that was coming towards his head. To bring her arm up there from her previous position she'd had to spin round and in doing so her skirt whirled around her legs, exposing her thigh. John had tried really hard not to look down but he had spent too much time with the idea that movement in your peripheral vision could be important. He wondered if she did it on purpose, if she knew the reason he did not improve much was not lack of practice. It was hard to concentrate on two sticks when there was the whole of Teyla there too.

It did not help that Atlantis itself was full of distractions. It was easy to catch your eye on the orange glow around the window or the muted blue of the lights that never seemed to be too dim or too bright. He had wondered what the Ancients could possibly have used the patterns on the floor for. As there was no way of really knowing what they had even used each room for it had only ever been a passing thought.

He wrenched his mind back to the job and quickly brought his left arm up, meeting her stick with slightly more force than was strictly required. It threw her arm back and he was rewarded by a sharp pain to the ribs: he had been paying too much attention to the stick in one hand and not enough to the other. She did not admonish him for his lapse - the pain did that.

"Ow," he said. He saw Teyla's frown and decided to ask for a break and some time to collect his thoughts.

It was not all that painful really - Teyla never hit that hard - but it was probably still enough to leave a bruise. When he showered he often took the opportunity to take stock. He wondered if anyone who saw him naked would think he was regularly being beaten up - even though in some respects that was true. Perhaps if that someone was Teyla she would go easier on him. The chance, however, seemed slight. She would be far more likely to remind him to practice, so that he would end up with fewer bruises and she with more, or indeed any.

He had definitely had a crush on her the first time they met. He thought she probably felt the same way about him, which was lucky because Colonel Sumner had not exactly endeared himself to the Athosians. Once they had got acquainted they discovered they liked more than just looks and had become friends. John coveted that friendship very much. The trouble was that the crush had never quite gone away, at least not for him.

"Is there something on your mind, Major?" Teyla asked, as she took a seat in the window, laying her sticks carefully in her lap. She sounded so sympathetic that John felt guilty there was not. Not really, anyway.

He sat down next to her, making sure to look at her face and not the way her skirt lay. Not that it was any less off-putting, he was just more used to the sight. "No," he said, yet there was hardly a time Teyla was not in his thoughts.

"Major."

Now he felt like a little boy caught out in a lie. "It's just a little frustrating that you beat me every time we spar." Which was the truth, if not all of it.

"If you practice, one day that will change." She patted him on the arm.

He could not help smiling at her confidence in him although he suspected that day was a long way off yet. He could feel exactly where every one of her fingers lay and had to fight the urge to grab her hand and hold it where it was. Unfortunately, Teyla was a suspicious person.

"There is something bothering you."

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and decided to do something insanely stupid. "I can't concentrate with you looking like that."

He opened his eyes again to see her looking down and frowning. "I am not wearing anything special."

"No, and that's the problem."

All he got in return was a quizzical look. He saw it on her often, usually in response to some reference he had made to Earth. Part of the reason he said some of the things he did was to get that look.

"It's that skirt and that top. It's like...your worst enemy's Ferrari."

The expression did not really change.

"Look, you're beautiful, okay? I mean, how can anyone not...?" He did not quite want to finish that sentence. He tightened his fingers on his sticks before they fell to the floor. "But I know you don't feel the same way, so just pretend I never said anything and I'll leave before I embarrass myself any further or risk our friendship any more than I already have." He got up and walked out of the open door, half hoping she would call him back.

She never did.

2. Jack/Daniel

There was something about talking to Daniel that made Jack smile. He was so different from the rest of Jack's friends. Which was not really surprising given they were Air Force through and through. He did not want to use the cliché 'breath of fresh air', but sometimes he felt Daniel was almost better, and more essential, than oxygen. Which made Jack think about feelings he had not had for a long time.

At the moment, though, he was not doing the talking, as Daniel was briefing SG-1 in his office, although it was more like a lesson, really. Daniel stood next to a computer that occasionally showed them pretty pictures and Jack, Carter and Teal'c sat around the table, taking in everything he said. Carter at least looked as if she was concentrating, like the school swot she probably had been. Teal'c just looked his ordinary inscrutable self, which made it somewhat hard to tell. Jack had once asked him how he did it. Teal'c merely raised an eyebrow in answer and never changed his expression. Jack did not know why he had been surprised at this.

Jack idly picked up what looked like an ordinary piece of stone and out of the corner of his eye saw Daniel glance over. He suppressed a smirk (Air Force Colonels did not 'smirk'), looked directly at Daniel once again and waited for him to complain. Daniel surprised him by carrying straight on with whatever he was saying about a Goa'uld called 'Tough Nut'. She was only a minor Goa'uld and did not seem to pose any immediate threat so Jack was not too worried about her. Daniel certainly seemed more excited than worried, so Jack took his cue from him.

The trouble was Jack was not very good at listening to Daniel. At least, he was not very good at hearing the words. He probably would have been content to listen to Daniel read the Book of the Dead if he had the chance. It did not really matter what he said, the voice alone was enough to make him tingly (not that he would admit that to anyone, Air Force Colonels did not get 'tingly'). This was a problem during the times he needed to know what Daniel was saying and it was hard to concentrate. At least if Daniel kept it short he would be more likely to actually hear what he was telling him. Protesting not only got a short speech but Daniel's full attention and that was something he both coveted and reproached himself for.

"...Tefnut was close to Ra..."

Jack suddenly sat up and dropped the stone when he heard a name he recognized. It clanged on the table and all eyes were on him. He put a hand over it to quieten the noise.

"Ra. We killed him. He is dead, right?" he said, mostly to cover himself but also because he was afraid Daniel was about to tell them this Tefnut had resurrected Ra or something. You just never know what these crazy snakes were going to get up to next.

"Yes, Jack."

Daniel was talking to him like he was a child but it didn't matter. Jack was more worried he had accidentally set something off, so he let go of the stone and put his hands up. When nothing happened he frowned and picked it back up.

"It's just a stone."

Daniel met his eyes and there was a small smile on his face. Jack tried hard to look as innocent as possible and not return the expression, without much success. That was the trouble with having briefings in Daniel's office, there were too many things in it that Jack just could not help himself. He didn't do it consciously, at least, not always, but he couldn't concentrate without having something for his hands to do. After a while it seemed Daniel started getting wise to him and put the important, breakable stuff on a shelf too high for Jack to idly pick up.

At least in the briefing room the only thing he could play with was his pen but he'd had to stop doodling when he realised Daniel's name was far too obvious. But that meant he had nothing to do with his hands, so instead regularly lost pens under the table or behind his chair somewhere. Which was not a place possible to casually pick anything up from in the middle of one of Daniel's speeches. Besides, pinching Daniel's pen was much more fun, not only to see the expression on his face.

He constantly had to remind himself it was all just friendship on Daniel's part. He longed to tell him how he felt but was too scared of his reaction. Besides, men just did not talk about their feelings, especially Air Force Colonels. Jack told himself he never had and was not going to start now, not caring that Daniel had got a fair few feelings out of him already.

He watched the way Daniel smiled at him, listened to his voice, coveted every touch and even bought the same soap so washing seemed more like smelling Daniel. The only sense was left was taste and he didn't think there was a big enough alien influence excuse to get out of that one. Sometimes he thought it would be worth it. Mostly, though, he thought he should save that for his death day, just in case.

He would far rather have Daniel as a friend than nothing at all. He already had most of Daniel and what he did not was in his fantasies. Anyway, not much would change if they were lovers.

Would it?

3. Sheppard/Weir

John took a deep breath of warm Earth air and tried to make out patterns in the stars. In the year they had been in Atlantis he had got used to spotting different shapes and these somehow seemed strange now. Much more so was the feeling of homesickness he felt. Coming here felt more like a vacation than home, a break from looking for ZPMs and killing Wraith.

He had given up on the constellations he had never known very well anyway and found one that he thought looked like a Puddlejumper when he heard footsteps. He thought about leaving but unlike Atlantis, places such as this where you could breathe fresh air and look at the sky were hard to come by. At least, they were when you were living under a mountain, however temporary that arrangement was. He could share.

He had found this spot nearly by accident. He had gone running round the parking lot, which had been enough of a novelty that he ignored the looks the guards gave him. After a few circuits he had started looking for better scenery and found a path in one corner leading to a relatively secluded spot with more interesting views than gray corridors or cars that had not really changed much in a year.

He went to call out but only got as far as opening his mouth when he heard a sob. He was torn between leaving and probably being heard or asking what was wrong when the figure came close enough that he could work out who it was in the dim light.

"Elizabeth?" He knew he should not be quite so taken aback as he was. Elizabeth had the best poker face on Atlantis, which he had discovered while losing large amounts of chocolate to her, but even she must get upset from time to time.

There was a pause before a slightly shaky, "John?" in response.

His first thought was that something had gone horribly wrong with their return plans to Atlantis but he immediately dismissed it. If that was the case Elizabeth would be doing everything she could to fix it and not be outside the SGC crying. So it must be something else. But even though they were friends she played things very close to her chest and he knew almost nothing about her personal life.

He wished things were otherwise, that he could be someone she could tell things to, but he had not really told her much about himself either. Sure, she could look in his file (and she certainly had) and he could do the same. It did not tell him much about her, though, beyond what amazing things she had done and when her birthday was, a date he had made certain not to forget.

After a few months their relationship had moved on from a working one to friendship. He suspected that Elizabeth kept her distance with all the personnel on Atlantis because of her status of the head of the mission. That didn't mean she had to be lonely, though. John had reached out to her a few times and she had made small gestures towards returning them. He wanted more but had no intention of rushing her.

He moved closer to Elizabeth, so she would be able to see it was really him. He could only see by the distant lights from Cheyenne Mountain, but since he could no longer hear her he was fairly sure his presence had stopped her tears for the moment.

"What's wrong?" he asked, not expecting an answer straight away. He was right.

"Nothing." Her voice sounded much more like normal, which confirmed his guess.

"You can't fool me, Elizabeth, we know each other too well," he cringed as he said it. "I heard you crying," he added.

There was silence as she turned away from him. He looked at the back of her head - or where it would have been, her hair being hard to see with only a little light. He thought he knew how to deal with upset women but none of them had ever been Elizabeth Weir.

"We survived an attack by the Wraith," he said, trying for a bit of humour, "nothing else can possibly be as bad as that."

He was not really expecting a laugh but he also was not anticipating the sigh he heard.

"I'll leave you alone, if that's what you want." He could not resist putting one hand on her shoulder for a moment before turning away.

"John," this time it was clearer and he stopped, looking at the black shape that was Elizabeth in the dark.

"My..." she began, "the man I thought I would marry has...met someone else."

"He was an idiot," he said, meaning it.

"No, it was my fault. I can't blame him for not waiting."

"If he loved you enough, if he thought you were worth it, he would have."

She shook her head. Her eyes lit up briefly as the tears in them caught the light. He really wanted to tell her he would have waited, but didn't because she didn't need to know his feelings for her, not now, not yet. Not knowing what else to say, he put his hand back on her shoulder. It seemed to help because he felt her relax slightly under his hand. He resisted the temptation to move it, so they stayed like that for a few minutes until Elizabeth dried her eyes and they went back inside.

John made a vow to himself to make sure she never had the chance to think about what she had lost, as long as he was around.

4. Sam/Jack

Jack stood in the control room, hovering over Walter Harriman and trying to resist the temptation to take up biting his fingernails. It would not make the wait go any quicker. He was not by nature a very patient person and just standing here waiting for news didn't help, nor did the fact that the most likely news would be both good and bad. Good because Carter would have saved the world again and bad because the result would be her almost certain death. One that he had sent her to.

He trusted Carter to save their asses every time. Partly because she always managed to do it, even if it was sometimes at the last minute, but also because when she gave him that look he had no choice but to believe she could do the impossible. When he first met her he wondered if there was anything she didn't do well. He was still thinking about it but now he could just be biased. He couldn't deny it: Carter was brilliant and the SGC, the Air Force, hell the world, was lucky to have her. It made him distinctly jealous - he wanted her too.

"Five minutes," Walter reminded them, as if the countdown clock someone had decided was a good idea wasn't enough.

Jack watched the time tick down from 5:00 to 4:50, each second seeming to take an hour, before he heard Carter's voice.

"Nearly there."

In those two words Jack could hear a hint of desperation and maybe even panic, but Carter was too good a soldier to let it get to her. It was almost unfair. She was too busy to think of her impending death and he could think of nothing else.

He resisted the temptation to say anything to her because she needed to concentrate and the only thing he wanted to say right now was both unhelpful and not something he wanted the whole SGC to overhear. He tried not to regret that he had never said it because he had not had to.

"Carter, you're the best we have. You're the only one who can do this."

"I know, sir."

He nodded. Of course she did, but there was a difference between trying not to die killing the enemy and going in knowing your likelihood of survival was small.

"Carter..." but he just could not say it. To say the words made it real and, in this case, reality was a bad thing.

"I know," she repeated, but softer this time, and with a long look into his eyes.

Then she left and he was looking at the Stargate waiting for her to be gone forever. It sat there, as big and round and silent as usual. Just once, it would have been nice for something so important to all of them to have some answers. He knew an inanimate object was never going to be any help at all in this situation but meeting the eyes of anyone else in the room just made the tension worse. Daniel had already decided it was too much and disappeared, back to his office Jack assumed.

He had returned only a few minutes later, though. There had been just enough time for him to have got down to his office, wandered about a bit, and then come back up, Jack calculated. The countdown might have been unbearable but it was not as bad as pacing a room waiting - something Jack had had much experience of since his promotion. Sitting in his office while a team was off world and in a potentially perilous situation was much harder than going out there and being in danger himself. He told himself he felt the same whatever team it was but obviously he was closer to SG-1 than any of the others.

He had always reasoned that Carter was a busy person who did not have time for a relationship but the truth was the only reason he had never done anything about what he was fairly sure was their mutual attraction, was the regs. Jack O'Neill was not usually a man prone to obeying orders he disagreed with, and he disagreed with this one just at the moment, although before he had heard of the Stargate it had seemed much more reasonable.

Carter, on the other hand, was a good little soldier who did what she was told. She would never approach him and if he made any advances towards her it would leave her in a quandary, one which he did not want to put her in. He told himself it was not because he did not want her to choose the Air Force over him but in truth he did not know which was worse.

"Two minutes," Walter broke his thoughts.

"Come on, Carter," Jack said, almost under his breath.

Jack could feel Daniel and Teal'c looming over each shoulder. He took a few deep breaths to try and calm his racing heart, and put his hands in his pockets so no-one could see them shake. He almost prayed to a god he didn't believe in, the Goa'uld having made him take a long rethink about religion. He wanted to ask if, by some miracle, on top of the one he had asked her to perform, Carter came back alive he would not take her for granted again but that was not really what he wanted to ask for. What he really wanted was a promise he couldn't keep.

He settled for the safe return of a friend instead.

5. Sheppard/McKay

John had always thought that the revelation that he was gay would come as more of a surprise. If he had expected it at all, that is. He thought this sort of problem was one only teenagers had. Perhaps he was going through some sort of early mid-life crisis caused by living in a galaxy far away.

He blamed his dilemma entirely on Rodney McKay, who, along with clearly being too sexy for his own good, was generally the cause of most problems. In all fairness, he was often also the solution to them, although even this one might be beyond even Rodney.

It had all begun that morning when the two of them had gone out for some flying practice. He had started the whole thing partly to soothe some of Carson's fears, but also because if there were fewer military people available to fly the jumpers than they needed in a fight, then he wanted the next best thing. He was sure people like Carson and Rodney would be able to get the hang of it eventually, they just needed enough practice to make it second nature.

Today Rodney had seemed more confident than usual and John had suggested he try some moves. It turned out Rodney had seen too many movies but he attempted some rolls anyway. It had taken a few tries but he did eventually manage to finish with the jumper the right way up and heading in the right direction.

"Woo hoo!" Unable to contain his excitement Rodney had felt the need to jump up and high five his instructor.

"Hands on the controls," John admonished but could not keep the smile off his face.

Suitably serious once more, at least in thought, if not in bearing, Rodney sat down and did a victory roll. John saw the world turn out of the corner of his eye and thought how strange it was that Rodney made the planet move for him. He had been staring at Rodney, though, and Rodney was too engrossed to call him on it.

In that moment John had fallen in love. Or at least in lust, he was not certain which just yet. He couldn't help looking at Rodney's hands and thinking about how much of him they would be able to touch. He really wanted to see that smile again but aimed at him. Perhaps it was all just because he hadn't got laid in a while and could see no chance of getting any in the near future. At least not without Rodney bitching at him about it.

According to John's plan, Rodney's success should mean he was ready to go out on his own. He told himself Rodney would just get cocky, try harder tricks, crash the jumper and get himself killed, but really it was just a good excuse to spend more time with a man who was usually only this happy over Ancient technology.

Afterwards they had gone their separate ways and John assumed the feeling was temporary brought on by the excitement of it all, or something. A belief he happily indulged in until he went for dinner in the mess and listened to Rodney brag about his flying. John had felt quite proud that he was the one to teach him, and Rodney in return was happy to give credit to anyone who would listen (a number which, unsurprisingly, fell rapidly after a few repetitions). The feelings he had felt back in the jumper had not gone away.

He ended up spending most of the day staring at pretty much anyone he could, which had involved some slightly odd looks back. Okay, very odd in some cases. But he had to figure this thing out and a comparison to Rodney seemed like the obvious answer.

The trouble was, none of them compared. Some were better looking, some even Rodney would be forced to admit were almost as intelligent but none of them had everything that Rodney did. Rodney was someone he could stay up all night talking to having debates about important things such as exactly how the Ancients built the great city of Atlantis, and unimportant things like the best flavor of ice cream.

Rodney was never going to have a second career as a male model (which given his temperament was probably just as well) but then who wants a pretty boy anyway? He had taken to the non-scientific side of Atlantis life as well and, in addition to his new piloting skills, was becoming a pretty good shot. They had so much in common how could they not be perfect for each other?

If Rodney were a woman this thing, whatever it was, would not be so much of a problem. His mind carelessly conjured up an image of Rodney with long hair, stamping his foot when he disagreed with someone. He couldn't help laughing, briefly imagining trying to keep a straight face next time they talked. It was probably going to be impossible but did have the added bonus of driving Rodney crazy trying to work it out. He had said once before how much he worried about what went on in John's head. If only you could see, he thought.

He recalled the morning once more and filled his mind with an image of a smiling Rodney, remembered his voice, and wrapped himself in it until it was all he could see and hear. Satisfied, he fell asleep almost immediately.

And dreamt of Rodney McKay.

Haldir made his way through the throng using his bow to clear himself a path and ducking occasionally to avoid an arm, or a piece of armour that seemed to be thrown around casually. He felt frantic as he searched, in case he did not see the Man he searched for before the battle, but did not want this to show, so was forced to slow his steps. He had travelled nearly halfway across the busy camp before he briefly spotted his quarry entering one of the tents. He stopped for a moment for a better look and watched through the small gap, unminding of those around him.

Isildur was not particularly tall, certainly he was shorter than his father, yet he was still imposing. Even the long battles they had been fighting had not changed this, although his dark hair now hung around his head in clumps with dirt streaked through it and his eyes seemed much whiter. It had been weeks since any of them had a chance to wash or change their clothes, and cleanliness was now more of a fading memory for all of them. The skin of the Men had darkened and even the Elves were covered in ash for much of the time.

However, Haldir did not mind Isildur's unwashed state, for he could see the muscles in Isildur's arms flexing as he struggled to buckle the well-worn straps on his armour. He was reminded of softness between hair and the strength he felt under his hands when there was less clothing between them. After a minute Isildur turned his back, spoiling Haldir's view of one part of him but providing him with another. Haldir took a couple of deep breaths to steady himself and clear his mind. Upon doing so, he was reminded of those around him and hoped they had not noticed the way he had been openly staring at a Man. His admiration of Isildur was making him careless.

He realised there was no-one to help Isildur: the other Men around had problems of their own. He reassured himself he was unimportant to these Men and found his journey to the tent much easier than the far longer one he had taken across the camp. Still being able to think clearly, he closed the canvas flap behind him and placed his bow on the table inside, bringing himself into Isildur's vision. Their eyes met and Isildur's held no surprise in them. He smiled, not looking away, although Isildur returned to his troublesome armour.

From here, Haldir could do more than just watch. He took hold of the straps on the left of the vest, absently noting how one hole had been so stretched it was nearly to the next. There would be time enough to mend it later. Buckling them, he could not help but brush his hands lightly against Isildur's side through his shirt. Isildur squirmed as if tickled, and Haldir shivered at the touch and the memory of previous caresses. Though the armour had quickly fallen into place he did not move away. He would likely not get the chance to be this close again and he wanted to remember the warm feeling beneath his fingers. When he looked up at Isildur the Man had closed his eyes. Haldir did not stop and he felt Isildur's skin move with his breath, which had quickened with Haldir's touch.

At length Isildur turned: Haldir's too short moment of introspection was lost and he pulled away. The tent was large enough for many but Isildur was still close enough for Haldir to reach out and touch once more. Although Haldir did not dare move forward, he could not bring himself to step away and their hands brushed as they reached for their weapons. Haldir worked hard to fight the urge to close his fingers around Isildur's. He should not be here and the last thing he needed was more temptation to stay.

They faced each other but were both busy examining their respective weapons. Isildur took hold of his sword, testing its balance. The swish sounded perilously close to Haldir's ear and he could swear he smelt the sickening stink of orc blood on it. He knew Isildur was too good a swordsman to hit him so he still did not step back. Instead, he busied himself with his own bow. He knew it was fine - it always was - and his compulsive testing was purely nervous. Satisfied, he looked up to find Isildur gazing at him.

"Thank you," Isildur said.

Haldir inclined his head in response. "Good luck. And..." His voice cracked and he paused, swallowing and taking a deep breath. When he spoke again, Isildur had to lean towards him to hear. "Don't get killed."

Isildur smiled. "I'll try."

The next thing Haldir was aware of was the other's lips against his. For that moment it no longer mattered if they were discovered. All Haldir could hear now was his breathing and his heart, which beat faster. He could taste the lembas that had been the last meal for both of them; he could smell metal and earth; he could feel the handle of his bow pressing against his palms and digging into the skin. But most of all he could feel Isildur's lips and mouth and tongue; he never wanted to forget it. He only loosened his grip on his bow when he felt Isildur pull away. Opening his eyes, he found the scene was as before. He licked his lips, imprinting the familiar taste on his memory.

There was silence once more. Haldir tried to commit Isildur to memory but they were so close all he could see was his own reflection.

"I love you, Isildur," he said, taking one hand off his bow and placing it to grip Isildur's sword hilt along with him.

Isildur turned one hand over to press their palms together and interlock their fingers. The Elf knew his skin was roughed from many battles, yet it felt soft and smooth against the Man's bigger one.

"If I die, remember me when I am gone," Isildur told him.

Haldir nodded. There was something he needed to know but did not want his fears confirmed. "This war," he said, hesitantly, "was the best and worst time of my life."

"And mine," Isildur agreed, "in its own way."

Haldir continued, ignoring Isildur's interruption, although his heart skipped a beat at his words. "I will always remember you, even as you must forget me." He tried to pull his hand from Isildur's but the Man's grip was tight. Haldir looked down, not wanting to see the expression on his face.

"I understand the life you have to go back to and I understand no-one can ever know. But to me, this is real."

At that, Isildur allowed him to pull free. Haldir took a step back before he could look up once more.

"I wish-" Isildur began, but stopped when Haldir slowly shook his head.

"I should go," he said into the suddenly uncomfortable silence.

Isildur nodded, although Haldir could no longer tell whether he really wanted him to leave.

Hesitantly, Haldir turned away. He desperately wished they had more time but forever would not have been long enough. He paused in front of the entrance, his hand outstretched to open the tent flap. If he touched it he would forget the feel of Isildur, and the Man himself along with it. He heard a movement from behind and brought his hand back towards his side before finding the strength to resist temptation.

Voices passed by outside and Haldir knew that being discovered would be worse than him leaving, at least for Isildur. He managed one step outside the tent and the second a moment later, before he followed the other Elves to the battlefield. He had taken a few paces when the sense of Isildur's eyes on him were overwhelming and he looked back. Isildur was stood at the tent entrance and the pale sunlight reflected off Isildur's armour onto this face, lighting up his eyes. Haldir had never seen anything so beautiful.

Haldir blinked and did not open his eyes but the image stayed with him. He turned away. The result of this battle would either be the end of Middle-earth or the beginning of a new Age. Yet even the best outcome would take Isildur back to his wife and children, and a life that could not include Haldir.

It didn't matter though because they were all the same man and all knew exactly what she liked. Since she liked them all and had found that in pairs was twice as good, encountering ten of him at once increased her enjoyment exponentially. She didn't think she'd be getting up for a week.

"Hey, you started without me!"

Sarah was startled for a moment at the intrusion of a female voice, until she looked up and realised who she was.

"That's because we don't want you here," the Doctor said, "only one woman allowed, and that's Sarah."

"You don't want the competition, I see."

"No!" Sarah called out, stopping her from leaving. "I'd quite like you here." She grinned and the Doctor joined the other Doctors with her and they all had a very good time.

Sarah was bemused by the fair-haired man and it was only partly because he was dressed like a cricketer.

"I shouldn't be here, should I?"

"No, you shouldn't." The voice from behind her was definitely the Doctor but Sarah was starting to wonder about the one in front.

She spun round and smiled. "He can stay for a while, can't he? With two of you we can have twice as much fun."

The Doctor's eyes widened as he caught her meaning. "Perhaps a few hours won't hurt," he said, taking her hand.

It must be the engine, she decided, but just to check she slipped one shoe off and rubbed her foot along the bottom edge of the dashboard. The sound only grew louder.

She stretched out to touch whatever she could reach and in response felt the passenger seat vibrate. Sarah smiled and hoped the Doctor would be late.

Sarah decided not to call her on it. She was the Prime Minister, after all, she could do what she liked. "Sarah Jane Smith, from The Times."

"Oh, the interview. You don't mind if we talked in front of the telly, do you? Only it's Eastenders and I hate to miss an episode."

Sarah blinked but followed her. This was not going to be an ordinary interview. When she was still there several hours later, talking and drinking it was obvious that this was definitely no ordinary interview.

He cared about Captain Yates's health, of course, but it was the doctor he was really here to see. What with one thing and another they had not seen each other for a week and he could not wait any longer.

He smiled as he watched him work. Harry hadn't seen him and so he was entirely unselfconscious about Benton's stare. Now he really couldn't wait for tonight.

"Mmmm. I'm still me."

"I know you're different every time, but this time, it's just a bit...."

"Do you want to stop?" the Doctor asked, doing just that.

Sarah pushed her hips towards the Doctor's hand. "No!"

"I'm obviously not doing a good enough job if you can still string together a sentence."

The Doctor kissed her, just to make the point and it wasn't long before Sarah couldn't say a coherent word, never mind a whole sentence.

"Definitely, old girl," said Harry from somewhere to her left.

"Only possible explanation." That was Benton, on her right.

"Works for me."

"Yates?" The Brigadier sat up suddenly, dislodging a few people onto the floor, the bed just not being big enough for so many. "Weren't you thrown out?"

"Sorry, sir, Sarah's just too difficult to resist."

Sarah beamed at him, sitting at her feet. He took to giving them an impromptu massage in response, so she lay back, her head in someone's lap, she wasn't entirely sure whose.

"Oh, leave him alone, Brigadier." The Doctor was never one to keep quiet. He certainly hadn't been quiet earlier. "We all had fun, didn't we?"

"I certainly did." The voice was familiar but Sarah couldn't remember his name.

"Anyone for another round?"

This was greeted with enthusiastic agreement by all and another day was wasted in UNIT.

They shook hands and the Doctor gave a smile, one Sarah recognised.

She stepped forward to prevent Josh from moving back and said, "He's a very good friend of mine."

The Doctor refused to let go of Josh's hand, trapping him more effectively.

"He'd like," Sarah continued, "to be friends with you too."

The Doctor kissed Josh before he could protest. When Josh leaned back into her and put one of his hands in the Doctor's hair she knew they would all know each other very well by the end of the evening.

He was cut off by the Doctor trying to get his tongue down Josh's throat and Josh just as eagerly reciprocating.

When they stopped for air Josh carried on, "She's never mentioned you."

The Doctor's hand stopped at Josh's stomach. "What, never?"

Josh rapidly wished he had just shut up and enjoyed himself. "Well, not by name. But she did mention an oral fixation..."

That was obviously the right thing to say for that oral fixation was now focused on him and he was loving every bit of it.

He followed this up with an "er" as Jack took his time to relieve Harry of his trousers and pants.

He was reduced to "gnuh" when Jack stopped to remove his own clothes and stood in front of him completely naked.

It was when Jack's mouth found somewhere far more interesting to be that he shut up.

"Something you'd like to say?" Jack asked, sounding innocent but looking anything but.

"Yes, don't stop!"

Jack smiled and this time he did exactly as he was told.

He was even more amazed when he was led up to a room containing a half-dressed Sarah and half-wished he had listened to what Jack was saying. Later he found he was very glad he hadn't, because it was definitely an experience he wanted to repeat.

Initially he had been shocked at her suggestion to include Rose and his protests were real, even if they got a little half-hearted after a while. After all, it wasn't every day he was propositioned by two beautiful women.

But once he had given in he found that he quite liked the idea and once they started, he liked the actual event even more.

Jack came up behind her, although not too close, as the skirt settled once more. She might have laughed at his pose - on anyone else it would look a bit girly. Jack, though, could get away with that sort of thing.

The Doctor pointed at them with the sonic screwdriver. "1950s Earth," he said, "and Jack's is two decades later."

Rose groaned. They had been playing this game for a few outfits and the Doctor had got them all correct. It was getting annoying now. You would think with the size of his wardrobe (it took up an entire room, for goodness sake!) he would have at least forgotten when some of them were from.

"I've seen Grease, you can't fool me." The Doctor grinned.

"So have I," Jack said. "Good movie. Although it's a pity you don't have anything like that cat suit Sandy wears at the end." He looked her up and down as he said it.

Rose laughed and hit him. "It looks better on you." The black biker's leathers he wore were indeed very tight fitting. She had to admit he looked good in them, though. Mind you, Jack either had a good body or a good eye for clothes, or most probably both.

"We must try harder," Jack said, "come on Rose."

She waved at the Doctor - it seemed the right kind of mood for it - and followed Jack back to the wardrobe room. Jack had been impressed when he first saw the size of it and the number and variety of clothes it contained. Rose soon discovered he was willing to take time to go through it with her, explaining which era of history they came from. Although she had to concede, half of the time she had no way of knowing if he was right. When it came to clothes from her future or from other planets she had to trust Jack's word on when they were in fashion. In the case of some of them she really could not understand why. She was surprised, though, to find that so many other planets had discovered jeans.

When she emerged from behind a handy rail of clothes she found Jack standing disturbingly close, for which she gave him a look.

He folded his arms and grinned at her. "You really should wear a corset under that."

Rose mimicked his stance and raised one eyebrow. She wanted to know how he knew she wasn't wearing a corset under the long dress she had found. She wasn't going to ask, though, mostly because she wasn't quite sure she wanted to hear his answer.

Jack, at least, got the hint and offered her his arm like the gentleman he was dressed up as - complete with top hat.

When they presented themselves for the Doctor's inspection he guessed immediately, unsurprisingly.

"Victorian England," he said, "Perfect!"

Rose beamed and tried a curtsy. "Why thank you, kind sir," she said, in her best upper-class accent, which really wasn't that good given the wince Jack gave at it.

"Actually, I just meant you've picked out the right clothes this time. If you'd like to step this way lady and gentleman." He opened the TARDIS doors with a touch on the console and motioned with his arm to indicate the way outside.

Rose sighed but did as he requested.

Jack let go of her arm before he was pulled along outside with her. "Aren't you getting changed too?" he asked the Doctor.

"Why, is there something wrong with what I'm wearing?" The Doctor looked down at his attire with a frown.

Rose had already tried this more than once before and had long since given up attempting to get the Doctor to fit the era. Mostly, it seemed to be the other way round.

"I could just see you dressed as a butler," Jack said, his head on one side and a glint in his eye.

Rose shook her head and stepped outside to leave them to it. It was, to her limited knowledge, definitely Victorian England. They had landed not far from what was probably a road, given that as she watched a horse and carriage went past her at great speed. Apart from that there didn't seem to be many people around and it was actually a little disappointing. She turned and shouted behind her, "Come on, you two!"

The Doctor and Jack, still squabbling over the Doctor's choice of clothing, at least managed to step out of the TARDIS. Rose tuned them out and took advantage of their inattention to make the decision as to them which direction they should go in, although she did not really know where would be best so headed out pretty much randomly.

The reason for the lack of people about soon became apparent when thunder rumbled overhead. Rose looked up to see big black clouds overhead. She did think it was odd, though, that everything stopped for a thunderstorm when it didn't at home.

Very quickly it started to rain and a small drizzle soon turned into a downpour as they headed down the road.

"There must be a pub here somewhere," Rose suggested.

"Victorian pubs, not really a place for a lady," the Doctor said.

Rose didn't really care that much at this point. The dress she wore seemed to soak up the rain and it was getting heavier with every step.

Jack, at least, had taken the initiative and banged on a nearby door. Rose didn't seriously think he would get anyone to let them in but she had underestimated his charm and they were soon in a warm house drying out by the fire. She couldn't help noticing how Mrs West (although she was Eileen to Jack) kept smiling at Jack. She looked to be about her mother’s age, if not older, but since species differences never seemed to bother him, she imagined age gaps were unlikely to either.

The Doctor showed no signs of being bothered by being wet and was examining the knick-knacks on the mantelpiece instead.

"Where is everyone today?" he asked as Rose tried to get her hair dry.

"It's the thunderstorm," Mrs West said.

"But that's not exactly unusual," Rose said, "it's not as if England stops for rain."

"Just as well!" Jack put in but Rose ignored him.

"You're not from round here, are you?"

"We're travellers, just passing through," said the Doctor.

Mr West unexpectedly made an appearance in the room and joined the conversation. "I would leave soon, then."

At that point Jack decided to give Mrs West a big smile, although when Rose looked in the same direction he was, she wondered if it wasn't aimed at Mr West instead. It didn't matter though, because the effect was an offer of dinner and somehow Rose managed to have been volunteered to help, it being the maid's day off, apparently. Mr West's statement seemingly having being forgotten by everyone except Rose, who agreed whole-heartedly and wished they could just leave and go back to the TARDIS before the Doctor got them into trouble.

However, Mrs West seemed to think they all needed a four course banquet, so there was plenty of cooking to do and Rose was kept busy. She just hoped that the Doctor was keeping Jack out of trouble in the meantime. Although equally, Jack needed to prevent the Doctor from offending someone too.

After what seemed like hours spent in the kitchen hearing Mrs West's entire life story (which really wasn't that exciting, or that long, Victorian women not really having that much choice in, well, anything much) she was eventually demoted to waitress. It didn't help that Rose hadn't really been able to tell Mrs West much about herself for fear of it not making sense in this time. And it wasn’t her fault that she didn’t understand how most of it was supposed to work - usually she just put something in the microwave, so an open fire was a bit tricky for her to master in comparison.

On one of her trips between the kitchen and dining room Rose saw Jack and Mr West standing suspiciously close to each other in the hallway. She couldn't stop, though, because the dish she carried was hot and heavy. By the time she came back the scene was one of perfect innocence and Rose settled for giving Jack a look. He just grinned back.

Jack was, of course, free to do what he liked with whom he liked. Just because he was travelling with her and the Doctor didn't mean he had to display any sort of loyalty to them as far as his sex life was concerned. But it was a different matter altogether when he was putting himself in the middle of someone's marriage (from whichever side it was) and Rose really wished he wouldn't.

Consequently, she felt a bit out of things during dinner, especially as both Mr and Mrs West were keener to talk to Jack. The Doctor didn't seem to notice and was quite happy dropping in comments and distracting the couple from vying over Jack. There was nothing else Rose wanted to ask, after her time spent preparing the food, and there were no observations she really felt qualified to offer, either. She spent most of the meal wishing they weren't here at all and wondering how soon they could return to the TARDIS without it seeming rude.

She briefly toyed with the notion of imagining what her life would be like if it was just her and Jack. She decided it would probably be a whole lot less dangerous but more boring because Jack was too easily distracted by a pretty face (or any face at all, really). The Doctor's diversions were at least interesting, if often near-death experiences.

The rain never to let up all through the hours dinner seemed to last and Mrs West offered all three of them beds for the night - the house being big enough for each of them to have their own room. Rose wasn't entirely thrilled with the idea - she was missing the luxuries of home already - but the Doctor and Jack both seemed overjoyed at the suggestion and she gave up before she even said anything in protest.

She'd just about managed to get dressed for bed - which seemed to involve covering more of herself than on an average day at home, when she heard the Doctor shouting and somewhere in there was Jack's name. Wanting to know what he'd done now, she headed out to see what all the noise was about. Upon reaching Jack's room the scene that confronted her consisted of Jack, naked, standing in the middle of the room; Mr West in the bed, presumably just as undressed, although since he had the covers pulled up practically to his neck it was hard to tell; and the Doctor, still fully dressed, standing in the doorway, arms folded. Rose tried not to look at Jack, but it was difficult, and besides, he never really cared who saw him.

What Jack had been doing was immediately obvious.

"It's not like I forced him," Jack was saying. "He practically jumped me."

"What, when he's already married to Mrs West?" Rose asked.

"Especially because he's married to Mrs West."

"You seemed quite happy to flirt with her," the Doctor put in.

Jack just shrugged. Rose had to turn away from the scene in front of her for a moment. Jack had a way of making people feel special when he turned on the charm. And he'd certainly made her feel that way when they first met. She'd found it funny when he seemed to flirt with everyone he met - it seemed like he couldn't help it. But flirting with someone he didn't actually like that much made her wonder just what he felt about her and the Doctor.

"It's this culture," Jack was saying behind her, "it's so repressed and made to believe homosexuality is wrong. What do you think is going to happen?"

"Well you don't exactly help," the Doctor replied.

Mr West was staying silent on this topic, and it did rather seem to be the Doctor and Jack's argument. Rose was just wondering where Mrs West was and if she was staying away when she spotted the edge of her around the corner, eavesdropping. Rose decided to leave the men to it and went over to her.

"I'm sorry," she said. "If we hadn't come..."

"It's not your fault. I always suspected but I never could pluck up the courage to ask him outright."

"What are you going to do?"

"Oh, it's too late now. The time for me to have children is long since past. There's no point in leaving him and creating a scandal."

"But if you're not happy with him..."

Mrs West looked at Rose as if she were a child. "It's not a question of happiness, it's my duty to be loyal to my husband. If anyone else ever suspects I will always deny everything. That's how it is." She sighed. "But at least now I know where the weather is coming from. We’ll have to leave here and move again…"

Rose was utterly confused by this but before she could ask anything she saw Mrs West look up and to the side. Rose turned to see that during their conversation the Doctor and Jack's argument had finished and she hadn't noticed. It was the Doctor who had come up behind her.

"Get changed, Rose," he said, "we're going."

She might have complained about having to leave in the middle of the night, even though the rain had stopped, but this didn't really seem to be the time.

The clothes she'd been wearing when she stepped out of the TARDIS earlier in the day were now merely damp so she put those back on, rather than take an outfit that wasn't hers. It seemed unlikely they'd ever be back to return them. The Doctor had never quite managed to change his clothes, claiming he really wasn't that wet but Jack was at least now wearing something, which was an improvement.

Rose said goodbye to Mrs West, which was cordial enough. She was still worried about the older woman but she seemed to be so stubborn that nothing Rose could say would be likely to make any difference. And Rose wasn't sure that rocking her world would help her that much. Not that the Doctor was going to give her a chance to anyway, for he hustled Jack out of the door before he could say anything to anyone, although in his defence he didn't look like he was about to.

The walk back was in silence. It was pitch-black out and the Doctor pulled a big torch from inside his jacket pocket, although how it fitted in there, Rose couldn't say. As she shivered she looked forward to getting back to the TARDIS more and more. Jack noticed though and took off his heavy coat, draping it round her shoulders. She smiled at him and he put an arm round her, sharing the warmth. The Doctor pretended not to notice and walked on ahead.

Rose knew she was going to have to do something about this situation because otherwise the atmosphere was unbearable and the last thing she wanted was for Jack to be made to leave. Not least because it probably wouldn't really do that much about the tension in the end.

When at last they reached the TARDIS, the Doctor turned round and scowled at them before they could get far into the control room.

Rose spoke before he could. "Are you jealous? Is that why you're so upset?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Rose."

"So what is it then?"

"Jack insulted our hosts. We were supposed to be there to enjoy a nice bit of Victorian England but there's always one who has to spoil it for everyone else."

"Oh, because you've never insulted anyone. Like my mother for instance."

"At least I never slept with her."

"You can hardly blame that on Jack. It does take two to tango. I assume you know that one!"

"I'm sorry," Jack said when the Doctor paused at Rose's words. "I swear I didn't cause the problems in that household. I just brought them out in the open."

"For all the good it did Mrs West," Rose said.

"You can't force her to do something she doesn't want to," the Doctor said, more calm now.

"I know," Rose conceded. Something she had learned on her travels with the Doctor was that she was really glad she didn't live in an earlier time. She would hate not to have the options available to her in the 21st century.

"For what it's worth," Jack said, "I'm sorry. I'll understand if you want me to leave."

"No!" Rose said. "I mean, I don't want you to go."

Jack smiled at her. Even with what she had heard earlier tonight, he could still make her feel special, just with a look.

"You can stay," the Doctor said, "as long as you stay out of trouble."

"I'll do my best," Jack said, walking up close to the Doctor and smiling at him. "And if you ever need someone to teach you to tango, you know where I am."

Rose knew everything was going to be all right in the end because she saw the Doctor grin.

He slapped me on the back, turning to leave and I don't know what came over me because I kissed him. Perhaps I remembered being ascended, having no body, not being able to touch anything because I wanted to touch him. But it didn't matter because he was going home and besides, he was kissing me back.

We spent all night in that office.