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So very very backdated. Got lost somewhere and forgot to post it. Jamie and Doug have a discussion about the fact that Doug has put two and two together about recent events in Jamie's relationship with Kitty.

Jamie sat at the table, grinning at his ham sandwich. Sure, he was curious about what Doug had kept skittering around on the journals, but his mind just kept drifting back. Last night had been . . . just wow. Every time he and Kitty were able to be together, it just made him want more, seemed like, and okay, it was pretty frustrating they had to work arround roommates and pets and people with super-noses or ESP, but . . . just wow. She was amazing. He'd never believed anybody could be this happy.

Oh lord, Doug thought as he entered the kitchen. Jamie was practically _radiating_ it. He honestly had no idea how to bring the issue up with him. Just thinking about asking caused him to blush furiously. It wasn't like it was really any of his business, and he wasn't trying to be a voyeur, but..."So, um, when did you and Kitty...um...havesex?" Doug coughed out the last in a rush, beet red from embarassment.

Snorting milk out your nose worked because milk was, well, liquid. Unfortunately for Jamie, the same could not be said for ham on rye. "Uh," he managed after clearing his throat. ". . . You mean recently, or . . .?" And why were his ears red? It wasn't like he was _ashamed._ Heck, it wasn't even like it had taken him forever to figure out that Doug and Angie had started.

Doug's ears were just as red. "Recently?" he asked in a strangled tone. "I don't wanna know, I don't wanna know..." he repeated, resisting the urge to plug his ears. He really did _not_ want mental images of Jamie and Kitty naked, thanks...

"New Year's," Jamie blurted, seizing on the original question. "Um. At Muir. Before everything went kaboom. There was, y'know, the private room, and the whole . . . castle thing, and the holiday, and it was . . . really nice." He raised an eyebrow, managing a wry grin. "Heck of a lot more comfortable than those scratchy mattresses in Asgard, too."

Doug blushed even redder in response. "Me and my big mouth," he muttered. "That's more than enough detail for me," he continued. "I just...your body language has been practically screaming it every time Kitty is around lately," he said haltingly.

"Well, I wasn't planning on giving you the play-by-play . . ." Jamie coughed. "It was really . . ." The helpless grin spread across his face again. "Man, what did we _do,_ huh? Lucking out like this?"

"If you figure it out, let me know?" Doug asked. "Because I still haven't figured it out. I mean, I try not to question Angie's taste too much anymore, but I still don't get it."

Jamie snorted. "Hell, I don't even try. Kitty's crazy about me, and I'm pretty much just thankful for that." He paused, then snickered. "Well, that, and that Piotr turned out to be gay."

Doug chuckled. "Yeah, I don't imagine that hurt your chances any." He shrugged. "I didn't want to be all embarassing and stuff, but it's been kind of obvious." He clapped a hand to Jamie's shoulder. "I'm happy for the both of you."

Jamie twitched slightly and he stared at Doug. "Obvious? How obvious? I mean, we've been--with the, y'know, people with noses, we, uh . . .showers, and--oh, man, does everybody know? Because I don't think I want everybody to know. Not that I'm ashamed or anything, just . . . obvious? Really?"

"I have no idea. The people with noses might still be able to smell, but I think Kyle probably would have said something. He tends to be a bit 'talk first, think later' on that sort of subject. I have a bit of an unfair advantage, I suppose." Doug paused. "I'm not really sure why I even brought this up, because lord is it embarassing, having The Talk with your roommate."

Jamie snickered. "Thus why I didn't say anything in Asgard. Speaking of obvious." His forehead wrinkled. "Hey, are we going to have to work out some sort of doorknob sock code now, or . . .?"

"I think socks are a bit obvious," Doug said with a wry shake of his head. "But yeah, we should probably come up with something, some way of communicating. Because I can't imagine that either one of us really wants to walk in on the other in flagrante delicto."

Jamie snorted. "That's a definite ten-four." He grinned. "I see enough of your skinny butt in the mornings anyway. We'll think of something . . . Post-its, e-mail--maybe the good old discreet chalked lines on unobtrusive surfaces." With a snicker, he added "'Course, then we run the risk of all our ex-spies reading the signal wrong and haring off to blow up Canada or something."