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“I am early.”
    Then Craig kicked the door shut and kissed him. When they finally came up for air, the frown had gone and instead a half-smile played across Paul's face.
    “Maybe you and I have a different timescale,” he said. “In which case, do you want a coffee?”
    Craig shook his head. “No thanks. But a pee would be nice.”
    On his way to the bathroom, he took the opportunity to have a quick look around. Gay Rule Number Five: Always check out where your boyfriend lives; it will give you a good idea whether he's a psycho or not. He came to the conclusion Paul wasn't. Probably not, anyway. The place seemed, at least from the hallway and bathroom, simply furnished, but neat and clean. The hall table had nothing on it but an old cigarette packet. And the bathroom cabinet, which Craig briefly opened before blushing and closing it again, was as tidy as if it had only just been stocked. It made him smile to think of the mess he kept his own surroundings in, compared to the precision Paul brought to his. Not that he could really judge, not having been invited into the living room yet, of course.
    He wondered how it would be if they ever ... then shook the thought away. If he started thinking like that, they'd be finished before they'd even begun. He was probably breaking all the Gay Rules there'd ever been anyway.
    When he came out of the bathroom, Paul was waiting in the hallway. He was clutching a bottle of water. He held it out toward Craig like an offering.
    “Thought we might need this and—”
    “And assumed I hadn't got any,” he said with a shrug. “You'd be right about that. Thanks.”
    “I wasn't going to say that, but yeah.”
    In his clapped-out old Fiesta, Craig shoved the pile of crisp packets and old receipts off the passenger seat and into the back and watched as Paul sat down. Gingerly.
    As he reached for the ignition, Paul put his hand on his arm.
    “Look,” he said. “I don't mean to be rude, but are you sure we're going to make it in this?”
    “It's not too bad. It gets me most places.”
    “A four-hour trip to Devon?”
    “Okay,” Craig conceded. “I've not driven that far for a lifetime, but I'm sure it will be fine.”
    “I'm sure it will too. But what do you say to going in my car instead? It's bigger and more comfortable, I think. I just had it serviced last week too, so we won't have to worry.”
    “What about the driving? And anyway it's mean as I asked you, so you shouldn't have to put yourself out for me. No, really, I'll do it. I'll—”
    Paul placed his fingers on Craig's lips for a second and the touch silenced him at once.
    “What if I want to do it?” he said. “What if I want to put myself out for you, Craig? What do you say then?”
    He swallowed and found himself gazing into Paul's eyes. He had no idea what to say, couldn't understand how this bloke could suddenly turn so intense, but yet Craig didn't feel like running. Normally, he liked to keep things light. He'd learned it was best that way. How he'd learned it.
    “Sorry,” Paul said, echoing Craig's thoughts. “Am I coming on too strong? I've been told in the past that's the case. I—”
    This time it was Craig who interrupted him. By means of a kiss.
    “Don't worry,” he said. “I like it. In a weird kind of way. And the answer is yes. Thank you. We can take your car, but only if you let me pay for petrol and buy lunch. Deal?”
    Paul smiled. “Deal.”
    Paul's car was a gray Vauxhall Estate. Not too new, not too old. Craig saw a few old newspapers scattered over the backseat, but the front was tidy enough. Comfortable too. The only odd feature was the tinted windows. Not too obvious so people would notice at a casual glance, but seeing in would be tricky.
    “Is this the car you use for...?”
    “For surveillance, yes. It's my only car, in fact. So it does everything. Including the shopping, the odd trip out, and occasional visits to Devon.”
    “Oh.” Craig grinned, the sudden encounter with