Don watched David over the next few days. David was the only member of the team to know about them. Colby had been adamant that he wanted to tell him once it was clear that what was between him and Don was turning into something that looked like it might last. Don wasn't surprised - he knew Colby and David were pretty much joined at the hip, both in and out of work, and he also had the suspicion that Colby was worried about keeping anything from David following the whole spy mess.

Even knowing all this, Don hadn't been keen about letting anyone know; he'd regretted it in the past when he'd done so. He and Colby had one of those conversations they seemed to specialise in, in which they managed to say stuff without saying it, and he realised he wasn't alone in not wanting to let people know. It was just that David was different, at least in Colby's mind. Colby had assured Don that David hadn't raised an eyebrow when he'd told David he was gay, and that finding out Don was bi wouldn't be a problem. Knowing David as he did, knowing he was a fair, principled and decent man, Don had finally agreed. And he'd tried not to worry about it, other than the slight nagging embarrassment at the perception David might have that Don was working his way through his team.

Colby had said that David had been perfectly okay with it when he'd told him a month ago. But now Don was wondering if Colby had only seen what he'd wanted to see in David's reaction.

Don hated that he was harbouring suspicions about a man he'd trusted implicitly for the past three years. He hated even more the way his gut twisted every time he thought he might be right about it, because when it was someone you know, someone you thought was a friend, that's when it got past all the defences and got you where it really hurt. But he watched David, no matter how bad he felt about doing so, because if this was indeed what it felt like, he couldn't afford to be taken by surprise.

.

It was because he was watching that he saw it, three days later – something which normally he was unlikely to have noticed and certainly wouldn't have attached any weight to even if he had seen it. Colby had gone into the break-room where David was making himself some tea. Nothing unusual in that, and Don was just about to return his attention to Liz, who wanted his signature on something, when David pushed abruptly out of the break-room, leaving Colby staring after him.

Colby looked confused for a minute, before shaking his head slightly and turning back to the coffee machine. Don left it a minute, then unobtrusively wandered over and in through the door.

"Everything okay?" he asked, a hand briefly on Colby's back. Nothing he wouldn't do and hadn't done for every member of his team at one time or another.

"Yeah," Colby said. Then sighed. "No. I don't know."

"We'll talk about it later," Don said, and left his hand there a moment longer than he probably should have done, before he moved away and grabbed himself a cup from the stack. Preceding Colby out of the break-room, he glanced over at David and was startled to find David's eyes on them both. David looked away when he realised Don had seen him watching. He didn't look happy.

.

"So," Don said later that evening, watching Colby picking pieces of pineapple off the pizza that Don had ordered, forgetting when he'd phoned it through that Colby thought fruit on pizza might just kill him. "You want to tell me what that was about this afternoon?"

Colby sighed. "I have no idea," he said. "We were talking about the weekend, and I said something about how we were going surfing, and he just shut down on me."

"You got any idea why?"

Colby glanced up at him, hand poised over the pizza. "No, but it sounds like you do."

Don hesitated slightly, uncomfortable. "Just something he said the other day. It made me think he's got a problem with us being together."

"David? No way, man. He's not like that."

"Yeah, that's what I thought too. But he sure as hell didn't like walking in on us kissing."

"When did he – oh, the warehouse?" Colby frowned and was silent for a minute. "You think that's why he didn't want to catch a ride back to the office with me?" He pulled another piece of pineapple off and stared at it as if it held the answer he was looking for. "David's not like that," he said again, firmly.

"Yeah, maybe," Don said. "Just watch your back, okay?"

Colby didn't answer, but the fact the slice of pizza he picked up and bit into was still pineapple-infested told Don more than words would have done.

.

"I've been thinking," Don said later, when they were sat on the couch in front of the game, Colby leaning against him, already half-asleep.

When the expected smartass response didn't immediately follow, he poked Colby in the ribs and almost got Colby's skull slammed into his jaw for his trouble. Seemed he might just have discovered a ticklish spot. Putting that aside to explore further later, he went back to what he'd been turning over in his head as he'd watched the Raiders destroy the Vikings.

"Think we should tell the others?" It wasn't like Don Eppes to ask rather than be sure of himself, but it was a hell of a big decision that might just change everything, and not only for himself.

Colby went very still for a moment, then sat up and looked at Don, any drowsiness well and truly fled from his eyes. "Why?"

"I was thinking, if there's a problem with David –"

"There isn't," Colby interrupted.

"If there is, then it might be best to flush that out into the open. Also see who else we don't know as well as we think we do."

Colby's shoulders slumped slightly at that. Don wasn't surprised; he was pretty depressed by that thought too.

"Listen, Don," Colby said at last, "I don't know what's going on with David but I'm sure it's not that. He was the first person here I came out to, and he was cool."

"Yeah, but there's a hell of a difference between theory and reality for some people," Don pointed out. "It's okay to be gay so long as you don't actually have sex."

And he saw that hit home, saw the certainty in Colby's eyes begin to waver as he recognised the truth of what Don was saying.

"C'mere," he said, and Colby leaned back into him, gradually relaxing as Don's arm pulled him closer. "Think about it."

Don had been thinking about it the whole time he'd been supposedly watching the game. He'd been thinking about the way gay law enforcement officers who called for backup were so often left swinging in the wind. At least if Megan and Liz knew, Colby wouldn't be alone out there on the streets if David really was a problem.

And hell, Don hated thinking of David like that. He really did. He was sure that even if David had a problem with him and Colby being together, he'd never do that to Colby. Sure of it. But there were some things just too important to take risks with, and Colby's safety was one of those things.

They turned the game off before it finished, Don more concerned right now with taking Colby to bed and reminding both of them that, no matter what anyone else might think, what they had together was good and so damn right. And later, when Colby gasped his name, voice broken and pleading as his body strained under Don's, he knew it with every fibre of his being.