A shorter chapter this time, but, well, I hope you'll enjoy it!

My special thanks go to BrightAsNight, LegacyChick, SparkenRose, Jinx302, Pleb and PP for leaving golden words to lighten my writer's mood :)

Phil was caught in the moment and gazing into the bright blue eyes he fell, dropping into their depths and a quiet voice in the back of his mind whispered that he should say something, do something, like leaning in and just kiss this man, but he was too lost and there was still this lingering fear that he could ruin this by taking it as being more than just friendship… when it maybe wasn't more. But how could this not be more…?

And then the moment was over. Just like that. There was a twitch around Stephen's eyes before he let go of Phil, stepping back with a tiny smile on his lips that spoke of embarassment and apology and Phil thought that it was good that he hadn't kissed him and that, no matter how much he wanted this to happen… it needed to be Stephen who made the first move.

"The Curry," Stephen murmured then, turning away to set the table.

Phil didn't stop him. Instead he resumed finishing the Curry, smiling a bit to himself because this had been… interesting.

"So… Biscuit and Bambi, huh?" he said, allowing a bit amusement to lace into it. "Sounds like a tv-show. The cop and the nerd."

"To me it sounds like the most successful movie of all times," he heard Stephen answer so calm and gentle that it went straight to his heart, making him forget how to breathe for a second and he had to lean on the counter, because suddenly he felt his knees go weak.

Do you even know what you're doing to me?

"Can you… can you take the rice from the stove?" Phil mumbled. "I, uhm… I need to go to the bathroom."

With that he started to walk out of the kitchen, but just as he turned around it was a hand on his belly that stopped him.

"Yer okay?"

Was he? He didn't need to listen closely to what his body, his mind, fuck, his heart were trying to tell him because his whole being was practically singing that he'd never been more okay in his whole life and maybe he was too okay this very moment. His body was humming with anticipation and excitement, with hope and the need to lace his fingers into the wonderful copper tinged hair and claim those lips. Only that it wasn't a good idea to do this now, no matter how much Stephen's words, his actions seemed to speak otherwise. But he couldn't risk ruining it. And that was why he needed a few minutes alone, because if not… he couldn't guarantee anything…

He couldn't stop his hand from settle over Stephen's on his belly though as he replied: "Yeah, I'm okay. Don't worry. I'll be back in a minute."

With that he slipped out of the half-embrace and made his way to the bathroom, where he locked the door and braced his hands on the sink, gazing at his reflection in the mirror and he was met by a smile that resulted of a giddy happiness that danced in his chest.

This… chemistry… between them, it was sweet torture, was killing him and giving him life at the same time. It was like a mental petals plucking in a constant he-loves-me-he-loves-me-not. But as good as this was, he needed to be patient. There was still a chance that he misread the signs, no matter how clearly they seemed.

I think I'm falling in love with you. It was what he'd been thinking yesterday but… scrap that and make it a fuck, yes, I am falling in love with you. He was and he was falling fast. There was no point in trying to find a hold because it was already too late and all he could hope for was that Stephen would return his feelings someday. And if not? It would be a hard and painful way to go back to the crossroads of his feelings and follow the way of being only friends.

A deep breath. A second and a third. Closing his eyes, he hung his head and kept on breathing deeply until he felt his heart go back to beating normally, no jumping, no running, no pounding against his chest in excitement. Get a grip, the voice of reason piped up somewhere in the back of his head and with a sigh he wiped a hand through his face, attempting to take off the rose-colored glasses he obviously wore.

Again he gazed up to his reflection in the mirror and thought that he still wasn't used to see himself this happy, because for the past three months it had been sorrow that had greeted him every time he'd been looking at himself.

Giving himself a curt nod, he straightened up and went back to the kitchen, where he found the dinner waiting on the table and a pacing Stephen, who immediately walked over to him as he stepped into the room, asking if he really was okay.

"Stop worrying, Biscuit, I'm more than okay," Phil assured with a smile. "Come on, let's have dinner," he added, allowing his index finger to accidentally hook into Stephen's as he passed him.

Not even an hour later they were sprawling on the couch with cold soda and beer and cookie dough ice cream with whipped cream. The dinner had gone smooth and with safe topics. Their jobs. And compared to Stephen's, being an IT technician suddenly seemed to be deathly boring to Phil. On the other hand… computer usually didn't try to shoot one. Definitely a plus for his own job. The safe topics though had been peppered a little with… glances, of his own and from Stephen. Nice.

Picking in his ice, Phil gazed up to the other man and found a slightly absentminded, pondering expression on his face and once more he wished he could take a look on what was hidden behind those blue eyes.

"How does it feel to shoot someone?" he asked then, picking up on their earlier conversation.

With a crooked smile Stephen met his gaze.

"It's… difficult. Yer know, usually when yer have to shoot at someone, yer try to take them out with a shot to the shoulder or the leg, but sometimes it's either killing or getting killed. Taking someone's life is never easy, even if yer know it was necessary and in some cases they even deserved to die. Still… yer are ending someone's life and yer never feel good afterwards. The only times it was different were when I shot a lunatic who had his gun pressed against Randy's head and… Pinky."

A spoon full of ice vanished in Stephen's mouth and for a moment there was silence. Phil could see the very second the topic changed, slipping into a direction that wasn't one he liked but he'd known it would come up again sooner or later. The silence lingered a moment longer and Phil waited, putting his ice aside because suddenly his appetite was gone.

Then: "I had made me peace with dying in there because the chances were good tha yer would get out alive and then yer…" The blue eyes closed briefly and sorrow tugged at the handsome features… and at Phil's heart. "They would have shot yer, yer idiot. Throwing yer life away for nothing. Yer…"

"Hey, stop," Phil cut in. "I wouldn't have thrown my life away for nothing, okay? Every damn second in there I was afraid that you'd die. I don't know how often I've felt for a pulse to make sure you're still alive. Fuck, I would have given my life to make sure you survive this shit and then Pinky came and told you to get up and I… I couldn't let you walk right into death alone and I don't think that I would ever have been able to live a happy life if I had seen you… die. Huh, no, I actually know that I wouldn't have been able because the last three months I didn't know if you're alive or not and no, my life wasn't happy."

He watched as another spoon full of ice passed the other man's lips and he saw that Stephen's appetite was gone, too, and the blue eyes dropped their gaze to the floor. Scooting over to Stephen, he took the bowl from unresisting hands and placed it on the coffee table.

"Don't ever say again that I would have thrown my life away for nothing, you hear me? I would have given it for you," he said softly, bringing a hand up to Stephen's face to wipe some whipped cream off the beard. "You're not nothing, Biscuit, you're…"

… everything…

The last word though never passed his lips, because a hand closed around his own as his fingers touched the beard, the blue orbs locking with his gaze again. Faintly he realized that his breathing became a bit quicker, a little shallow and he wasn't alone. Equally quick and shallow puffs of air fleeted over his face, making him aware of how close he was to Stephen. Much closer than he had intended. And… not close enough. Stephen's breath was cookie dough flavored and Phil couldn't help but notice a different kind of appetite it stirred in him, whispering to him to steal the other man's breath and taste it. And it was back, that humming, flooding his body, filling his mind and the air between them. Stephen brought their hands down slowly, resting them on his chest. Phil felt a faint pounding. Stephen's heart. A bit faster maybe than it should?

Phil could have just leaned in now, could have kissed him and blame the moment. It wouldn't even have been a lie. But it was the indecisivness which returned to those baby blues and the almost pleading Bambi that passed Stephen's lips that stopped Phil from doing it. Stephen didn't want this or maybe he wasn't sure what he wanted. Either way, kissing him wouldn't have been right now and so he crawled back to his place on the far end of the couch and the fact that Stephen didn't try to stop him proved him right.

Don't push things. Don't push Stephen. Let him be the one who makes the first move. We've got time.

Taking a sip from his soda, he broke the eye contact and gave them both a few seconds to breathe through, but he couldn't help but notice from the corner of his eye as Stephen ran a hand through his hair, took the beer and downed it almost completely.

With his soda in hand he leaned back and grabbed a pillow, holding it to his nicely Curry stuffed tummy.

"On my search for you I Ieft my card at your department. Did anyone give it to you?" he asked, finally looking at Stephen again.

The humming was gone and the ease was back and with it came that cute smile to Stephen's lips.

"The card, yeah…" Stephen sighed and frowned a little. "Yer know, I've spent I dunno how much time on finding out yer name and yer address and finally I got it and then Randy comes to me yesterday and tells me tha he found yer card lying between the paperwork at the front desk. He hit on it yesterday morning."

Huffing, Phil put his soda aside and pinched the bridge of his nose. He understood that Stephen's colleagues hadn't given him information about him, but they could at least have given him the fucking card.

"Oh, that's wonderful. I've spent almost three months on finding you, have left my card at every goddamn hospital and department and it gets lost between paperwork and I sit at home the whole time, not knowing if I'll ever see you again or if you're alive or if you don't want to see me again..." He sighed. "Whatever."

"Yeah, well, after Randy told me about the card, no one dared to come to me office the whole morning because I was really pissed," Stephen chuckled while scooting closer to Phil.

He snatched the pillow from Phil and put it on Phil's legs, before he shifted to lie down, resting his head on the pillow with a sigh and for a moment Phil wasn't sure where to put his hands or how to move at all, wondering if Stephen was trying to kill him with his innocent getting closer here and there. After that moment one found a safe place on the armrest, while the other found a nice place on Stephen's chest, lying there totally… happily.

"What made yer think tha I wouldn't want to see yer again?"

Well, maybe the fact that a few traumatic hours of being caught up in a bank robbery and almost dying in there isn't a reason to want to see someone again? he thought.

Instead he said: "Counterquestion: what should have made me think that you would want to see me again?"

"Well, yer promised me a beer and cinnamon biscuits," Stephen grinned up to him. "I would never miss out on tha."

Raising an eyebrow, Phil muttered: "U-hu, so beer and biscuits are the reason you're here now? Does that mean that after you get the biscuits, that I won't see you ever again?"

Stephen frowned, pursing his lips as if he was thinking hard, but then the grin came back.

"Don't worry. It's comfy here and the food's good. I think I'll stay."

"Now, if this isn't nice. You could have told me that you're staying because I'm a nice guy, you know?"

The grin broadened.

"Yer are a nice guy and tha's why I'm staying. Tha and the food and the couch."

"Great, now I have to find a second job to feed you," Phil snorted, getting a soft chuckle in reply.

Closing his eyes, Stephen brought his hands up, one resting on Phil's on his chest, the other one holding on to Phil's forearm and the grin became an expression of contentment and it gave Phil the chance to really look at him for a while. He wondered if Stephen knew how goddamn good-looking he was. Probably. How could he not? And he wondered how kissing those lips would feel. Surely wonderful. And seeing him lying there so relaxed and contented caused a wave of happiness to roll through Phil.

It was almost scary what this man caused in him. Stephen made him strong and weak, tough and vulnerable at the same time… he gave him a sense of security, of ease… had freed something devouring strong but good in him.

Eventually his gaze fell on the scar on Stephen's forehead. In contrast to the one on Stephen's belly, it wasn't rough, only an imperfection of the skin. He hated it, because a few millimeters to the side, a different angle and Stephen would have been dead. Yet he loved it, because it was only this, a scar, and the fucking bullet hadn't killed him. Wondering how it might feel to touch it, Phil lifted his hand and stopped only inches above it.

The scar. I don't mind if yer touch it.

It was what Stephen had said yesterday at the pub, giving him the permission to touch the big scar on his belly. Stephen wouldn't mind if he touched the scar on his forehead now, would he?

The tip of his index finger touched the skin, tracing the scar tenderly and while he did, he saw Stephen opened his eyes just a bit, the blue orbs watching him in silence. A twinkle was lying in them. Affection.

"Have yer talked to a psychotherapist about what has happened?" Stephen asked quietly

Shaking his head softly no, Phil replied: "No. Somehow I couldn't and actually I'm not sure if I want to."

The hand on his arm began to smooth back and forth in a gentle, soothing caress.

"I know tha talking about it and reliving everything is a terrifying thought, but yer need to talk to a specialist who can help yer to…"

"No," Phil cut him off, his eyes still fixed on the scar. "You're here now and I know it'll be okay. I'll be okay."

A sigh.

"Look at me," Stephen demanded softly and Phil obeyed. "I can't work wonders, Bambi."

"You have no idea…" Phil whispered and it seemed to strike a chord in Stephen, because the other man's breath hitched ever so slightly.

His finger drifted off, away from the scar… its trail getting wayward as it brushed over to the red hair. Never breaking their gazes, Phil let his fingers dive into it against his better knowledge. Hadn't he told himself to hold back not long ago? And here he did it again, getting closer this man in a way that was closer than close. Too much closeness. And not enough. It was as if he was caught in a current that pulled him in mercilessly, dragging him back to Stephen again and again whenever he tried to bring some distance between them.

His fingertips travelled over the other man's scalp, the blue eyes slipping close for a second as the slightest of shivers ran through the big frame. Stephen didn't move to get away from this. No… instead he angled his head slightly to give better access.

How could this not be more?

Then Stephen opened his eyes again, a question lying in them as he began to gnaw at his bottom lip and he seemed to debate with himself. Phil stayed silent, giving him the time he needed to ask… whatever. A strange expression washed over Stephen's face suddenly, one that created an odd tingling at the base of Phil's skull and left him wondering what it was that his friend had been thinking about, but whatever it was, it remained unspoken behind those blue eyes.

What would he have given to take a glimpse, just one single glimpse at Stephen's thoughts…

"How long will yer have to work tomorrow?"

Topic change. Yup. It would remain unspoken. What a shame.

"Until three p.m. I think. You?"

"Got the day off," Stephen yawned. "Wanna go for a drink afterwards?"

Phil gave him a soft snort.

"Do you even have to ask, Biscuit?"

Smiling Stephen closed his eyes again and once more silence fell. It was a comfortable one, thick with ease and a glowing happiness. Perfect. A perfect ending for a wonderful exciting evening and Phil felt somehow heavy with a contented tiredness as he proceeded to run his his fingers through Stephen's hair.

Quiet minutes, passing slowly and the blue orbs stayed closed. Eventually he noticed Stephen's breathing become slow and shallow, felt the hands let go of him arm as they slipped down to the cushion, felt those tiny, approaching sleep induced twitches… and the fact that Stephen had fallen asleep on his legs, under his touch so easily warmed Phil from deep within.

"So you're really falling asleep on me, huh?" he whispered, smiling fondly as his eyes roamed the angelic and peaceful face, stopping at slightly parted lips he so wanted to kiss.

He really wanted to. But he was happy now with having his fingers buried in copper tinged softness, with having that nice weight lying on his legs and… well… the hand on Stephen's chest went into business for itself as it smoothed down, stealing careful touches on its way which gave Phil a faint idea what was hidden under the shirt… sneaking under the fabric to settle over the sun shaped scar. It remembered this place and just like it had been at the pub when he'd touched the scar, it felt like it shouldn't be anywhere else than on this body. The only reaction he got was a tiny, apologizing snore.

Handsome, cute, funny, caring… His mind wandered a little, bringing up words to describe the wonder that was lying here with him but in the end it narrowed on one single word.

Perfect.

For me, Phil whispered in his mind, not daring to think louder… as if Stephen could hear it in his sleep. You feel it, too, don't you? You have to… I can't be that wrong, Biscuit…