Disclaimer:
We do not know Craig Charles or Chris Barrie; we only know the public image they present in various public appearances. This is an entirely fictional story, wherein is presented fictionalized versions of those publicly projected personalities. What is presented in this story does not necessarily reflect what I think even of those projected images. What the actors themselves are like, we have not a clue, and furthermore, it is none of our business. We would never suggest or presume to know anything about them, or their personal lives. Rather, this story takes their images and plays with them within a fictionalized universe. It is a fantasy, and nothing more. The same goes for any and all names and/or public personas used and/or mentioned in this story.

"So, how was Dimension Jump?"

Chris looked up, raising his eyebrows slightly. Conventions were usually among the last things on Craig's mind, especially when they were meeting for the first time in several months at a secluded table in the back of a rather nice little cafe. He was never at such a loss for conversational topics that he would fall on that one.

"I saw this video from there," Craig went on, playing with an unlit cigarette. He'd taken it out by habit, but he knew Chris didn't like him smoking. This was by ways of a compromise; he needed something to do with his hands.

Conventions weren't high on Chris's own list of preferred conversational openers, either. Truth be told, he had been hoping for a side of flirtation with his sandwich, heavy on the innuendo. "Really?" he asked.

"Yeah well, ya know." Craig's eyes sparkled with mischief. "There was someone asking if there was anything you regretted..."

Chris frowned, feeling like there was a punchline he was missing. He didn't remember every question he nannered on about at those things.

"...and you somehow ended up talking about - tongues, was it?"

Chris dropped the remains of his sandwich on the plate and dropped his head into his hands. Oh, hell. That one had gotten out of hand, hadn't it? He waited there for a moment, hoping that the subject would somehow change, but when he looked up, Craig was still grinning at him. "You weren't trying to," he did his best imitation of Chris, "'sexually turn me on' - because there were fifty people there with clipboards?"

Chris sighed. "Well, it was awkward..."

"Yeah, fifty people! And with clipboards, no less! What, are you sayin' that if there had been only forty-nine - or no clipboards - you would have gone for it?"

"I had to say something!" Chris sighed, weakly.

"Did you, now?" Oh, it was evil, but so irresistible. Craig didn't feel all that guilty for indulging.

"Well, they..." Chris thought for a moment. He had rather made a sexual mountain out of a tangential molehill, hadn't he? He prided himself on being highly calm and composed in interviews, but something about anything related to Craig, especially kissing Craig, just made him ramble on like a nervous teenager. "You know what they were thinking!"

"I know what they were thinking after ya made that comment, that's fer sure."

Chris sighed. Craig was right. "Oh, hell. I'm not going to live this one down, am I?"

"Ach, you know those fangirls." Craig passed a cheeky look over the table, and touched his leg to Chris's under it.

"All too well, unfortunately. Bloody fangirls." Attention was flattering, but also... embarrassing, sometimes.

"Well, they can't have ya." It was just a joking comment, but Craig couldn't help but let a tinge of truth seep into it. Chris was his, it hadn't come easy, and he wasn't about to let him go, ever.

"I don't want them to, trust me..."

Craig scootched his chair over and threw an arm around Chris's back. "You sure about that? Were some lookers in that crowd." He was enjoying himself far too much.

"You were looking?" Chris could not keep a certain acid tone out of his voice. Craig always did love the ladies. And they loved him right back.

"Hey, I've got eyes - it's what they do." He'd had some offers, over the years, but they held no interest for him anymore. Well, other than a fun visual distraction and the odd flirt; he wasn't dead!

Chris hammed, "I only have eyes for youuuu..." and was rewarded with the sight of Craig collapsing in giggles. Chris sighed, resigned. Beating them, out. Time to join. "It was the clipboards."

"Too right, man," Craig answered, still giggling.

Chris adopted a put-upon tone. "You know how I am about clipboards!"

"Yeah, ya can't shut up about them." Craig grinned even more broadly as an idea occurred to him. A rather delicious idea. "You know - I know a place that's absolutely clipboard-free."

Chris pushed away his sandwich. Well, it would not have been his choice of flirtation, but it would do. He raised an eyebrow. "Oh, really. How many people are there?"

"Well, no one, at the moment. Be just about two with you and me."

Chris sucked in a breath, loudly. "Two of us - in a room without clipboards! Whatever would we do?"

"Beats me," Craig replied, with that innocent look he could pull off so well, despite being anything but.

"You want me to?" Chris asked. "Not exactly my thing, but I can't say no to anything you ask - you know that." Joking aside, that was all too true. Craig snorted, and Chris could not help reaching over and rubbing his tightly curled hair teasingly for a moment.

"Ah, yer something, you are. Dunno what, but yer something," Craig continued, warmly. And you're mine, his mind churned on, triumphantly.

"I always wanted to be someone," Chris said in a wistful tone. "Too bad I wasn't more specific."

Craig moved his chair closer and slid one hand surreptitiously around Chris's waist. "I'm not complaining with the result." Tasty. Yeah, this would do for lunch.

Chris glanced around. "Where would this lacking-in-masses-of-people-and-clipboards-locale be situated?" He had many post-lunch ideas, and all of them demanded a different venue.

"What, you'd want to go there?" Craig asked, dragging up that irresistible faux innocence again. "There are absolutely no clipboards..."

"Well, unless you have something better to do. I have some time free, and I have been around clipboards all day."

Unable to keep up the mock-innocence any longer, Craig leaned forwards, whispering into Chris's ear. "I doubt there's even a pad and pencil."

Chris widened his eyes in shock. "Oh my! I'm not sure I can handle a place that wild." He pretended to consider. "We can bring a steno pad. Or a PDA. Just to keep things under control."

Craig let go of Chris's waist and sat back in his chair. "Right, right; wouldn't want things to get too out of hand." But the sultry look he flashed belied this statement.

Chris could not let that slide without comment. He leaned over and muttered in Craig's ear, "No, I want my things very much in your hand."

Craig started getting jittery. Well, more jittery. It was Craig, after all. "Well... Well... then... er... Let's go!"

"Lead on," Chris replied, leaving a tip and standing, visions of data-entry-free sex swimming appealingly in his mind.