Title: Keep Yourself Alive
Author : Miya Morana
Fandom: Life on Mars (UK)
Pairing: Sam Tyler/Chris Skelton
Rating: PG
Summary: In which there's a party, music and unexpected things.
Disclaimer: I own nothing, blah, blah, blah, you know the rest.
Word Count: 735
A/N: Written for the 'office/workplace party' square of my schmoop_bingo card.
It's been a long investigation, but they've finally closed the case. The murderer-slash-jewel-thief is behind bars, the jewels have been restored to their proper owners, and the CID of the Manchester and Salford Police is throwing a party to celebrate.
Chris leans against a desk, sipping his beer, and watches DI Tyler laugh at something Hunt said. Sam should smile more often, Chris thinks, it really suits him.
"You should smile more often you know."
Annie's voice echoes his thoughts so accurately that Chris almost spills his drink.
"Oh, hi Annie."
"What were you smiling at?" she asks, settling besides him.
Chris adverts his eyes. "Er, nothing," he says. "Solving the case, you know, all that."
Is Annie raising a sarcastic eyebrow at him? No, of course she isn't, Annie's too sweet to do sarcastic. He takes another sip of his bear, trying to hide his sudden nervousness.
Annie sighs, shakes her head. "What do you think of this new song?" she asks, changing the subject to Chris' relief. She points to the radio, which is blasting a song about surviving?
"Is that a new band?" Chris asks, turning towards Annie as he can finally look at her. "I think it's noisy, and that nobody'll remember it even existed in just a few month?"
"What are you talking about?" Sam asks from right behind him, his hand landing on Chris' shoulder.
Chris turns around to find Sam mere inches from him, smiling. His cheeks are slightly pink from the alcohol, which isn't something that happens very often.
He swallows, try to remember what Sam just asked him, but the scent of his cologne is distracting.
"Chris was saying he doesn't think that new band will last," Annie provides helpful. Then, "excuse me," and she leaves them alone.
"Really?" Sam says, with that 'I know something you don' know' smile he has sometimes. "Well, I think people will listen to Queen for many many years.."
"Maybe," Chris shrugs, attempting to look like he doesn't care what Sam thinks.
But when Sam's hand inadvertently brushes his, Chris' breath catches in his throat. Sam's eyes widen, his smile fading under the shock. Chris gulps. He wants to look away, to pretend nothing has happened, that his pulse isn't racing at a hundred miles an hour, but he can't take his eyes off of Sam's.
"Chris?" Sam breathes low enough that Chris isn't entirely sure that's uncertainty he catches in the other man's voice.
He yanks himself away, takes a few steps back. "Just, just forget it, okay? Please?" he begs, then looks around to make sure no one's watching them. He turns around, walks swiftly out of the room. His heart is beating so fast he thinks it might burst out of his chest.
He starts running when he's in the hallway and no one can see him. He's already halfway to the rooftop when he hears Sam's voice in the staircase, calling after him, telling him to wait.
He lets the DI catch up to him, defeated, and leans against the wall, closing his eyes, trying to deny the inevitable. He'll get fired. Or even if Sam doesn't say anything, he'll never look at him the same.
"Chris…" Sam's hand is warm on his cheek, and Chris' eyes open to see Sam smiling at him. "I swear, you can be so thick sometimes."
Then Sam's lips are on his, and Chris' arms are flailing as he doesn't know what to do with them, doesn't understand what's happening. Sam's tongue licks its way into his mouth and Chris grabs Sam's jacket as he finally responds to the kiss while his brain is still trying to catch up.
When their lips part, Sam rests his forehead against Chris', breathing loudly against his mouth.
"I should have seen it sooner," Sam smiles softly. Then, "we should head back to the party before people wonder where we are."
Chris nods, not trusting himself to speak just yet. Slowly, he lets go of Sam's jacket.
Then, they get back to the party.
The next day, when Chris comes in to work, he finds a record of Queen's Keep Yourself Alive on his desk. On it there's a note:
Still famous in over thirty years.
Tonight, my place, 8 o'clock.
Chris carefully puts the note in his wallet and the record inside his top drawer.
He smiles the whole day.