They watched in silence as Sam shimmied towards them, dressed in the tightest, brightest, neon green tee shirt, and skinny jeans. Steve plodded along in his wake, making the bar suddenly seem much smaller than before. As they neared, Christian muttered to Rory, from the corner of his mouth;

"Have you met our friend Sam? He's very shy…" Then jumped up, allowing himself to be wrapped in an embrace, and air kissed loudly by each cheek.

Sam stretched over the table, nearly setting himself on fire with the candle in the process, and attempted to plant a kiss on Syed's lips. Prepared by previous attempts, Syed deftly dodged to the side, and received the kiss somewhere near his ear.

"Darlings! Have we all got drinks? Steve, get us drinks.." The pints of black, viscous beer caught Sam's eye, and he gagged.

"What the fuck is that?" His gaze slowly transferred to Rory, sitting quietly and patiently, waiting to be introduced, and he put his hands on his hips and pouted.

"And who the fuck are you?"

"Sam, behave!" Syed chastised him, "this is Rory, Michael's…" It struck him that he still wasn't entirely sure what state their relationship was currently in, and he floundered, looking to Christian for help. Seeing his discomfiture, Rory stood, and held out his hand.

"I'm just Michael's. Nice to meet you.."

Steve gave Sam a light tap on the back of his head, and stepped forward.

"Hello Rory, take no notice of her, she's pathologically rude. Do you want another one of those?"

Christian and Rory exchanged glances and grimaced.

"I think I'd like a glass of red wine, please.." Rory pushed his pint of Old Filthy away from him, and Christian did the same.

"Peroni for me. Sy, do you want another orange juice?" Christian gently stroked the back of Syed's head.

"Can I have a Virgin Pina Colada, Ste? Do you need a hand?"

"No, no.. You stay there. Time how long Sam is speechless for."

Sharp chin pulled into his neck, lips pursed and his eyes wide open, Sam was still regarding Rory with disbelief. Eventually he hissed;

"You lucky, lucky fucker.. I've only recently come to terms with Christian having Syed, and now this!"

Laughing, Christian pushed out a chair, and forced Sam into it.

"You've got the magnificent, gorgeous Steve, so don't feel too hard done by! It's good, this place, how did you hear about it?"

"Stella and Linda, do you remember them? They had their reception here. It's a bit too deadly dull for me, but I thought you two might like it.." Sam gaped like a fish, and stared at Rory again. "..You bastard.."

"Sam!" Christian slapped his hand, "We want to know all about your CP, focus.."

"Do we?" Syed mouthed, and Christian frowned at him.

"You were there, honey.. Oh, except you weren't, you kept slipping off.. OW!" Sam leant down to rub the shin that Christian had kicked under the table.

Christian produced his notebook, and a pen, and opened it up.

"We want ideas, names of suppliers, nothing too expensive though.. Have you been to many weddings Rory?"

They made room for Steve, bringing them their drinks on a tray, and Rory paused before replying;

"Only my sister's, when I was fourteen. She got married in a picturesque old church, dressed as a meringue. The reception was at a stately home. I spent most of it avoiding my family, and half inching champagne. I believe I was sick in the Ha-ha, so I'm probably not going to be much help...You can get married in the London Canal Museum, apparently.." He tailed off under the power of Sam's glare.

"Aww, that sounds lovely!" Syed said kindly, feeling himself beginning to warm to him, and Christian carefully, and pointedly, wrote down the location, tongue held between his teeth.

"ANYWAY!.." Sam cut in shrilly, ".. Why not have something grand? Sit on gold thrones, and have people come up and pay their regards.."

Syed sensed Christian stiffen beside him, and his heart fell as he saw a sadness etched on his face.

"No." He insisted, "I don't want that." He squeezed Christian's knee. "Can't we get married on a beach somewhere?"

"Don't you fucking dare! Deny us all of the party of the century? I'm thinking cabaret, I'm thinking oiled, semi naked waiters.." Sam hit the table in outrage, making the drinks wobble precariously, until Steve reached out a huge hand to steady it.

"I'm sure you are!" Christian snorted, moving the notebook, so that Syed could see he had written the word 'beach' inside a heart.

The hubbub in the bar seemed to suddenly quieten a little, and Syed wondered if it was because of Sam's outburst, then he noticed that Rory had become even more still, the only motion a slight twist of his hand, that made the ruby red wine glitter as it swirled in his glass, and that his mouth had subtly moved into a barely perceptible smile. He grinned at Christian, leaning close to whisper in his ear;

"I think Michael's here."