Jay rolled his eyes as Patric rooted through the evidence from the crime scenes again. The kid was getting nervous. It was day six and he still hadn't found something to prove his innocence. As soon as the two had entered the office that morning Patric muttered something about missing something and started furiously rooting through the files.

There was a list he was writing of all the similarities between the crime scenes.

-spray paint

-crappy rhymes

-knew them all <- disturbing

-leather gloves

-throw away phones

-times of death in phone call.

Patric stopped short at the last one.

The times.

Why were they so important that the killer just had to say them?

And they were so exact.

There was no rounding. They were very deliberate.

Why did the killer say them?

He takes his hands through his hair hoping some deity would zap the answers into his brain.

Jason watched as Patric appeared to be having a mini meltdown while staying at his pathetic list of similarities. He started at the paper for several minutes looking like his brain was seconds from exploding and oozing out his ears when all of a sudden he shouted, "They're a code!"

Well, that came from absolutely nowhere. Despite his better judgment to leave the crazy rich boy alone, Jay found himself asking, "What's a code?"

"The times of the murders," Patric clarified. He sounded so sure so certain.

Jay felt hopeful that this man had proved his own innocence. "What's the code?" he asked trying not to sound as excited as he felt.

"I don't know yet," Patric admitted reluctantly.

Jason rolled his eyes he felt a tiny bit less hopeful now.

It was hard to crack a code let alone crack it in one day with the pressure of multiple murder convictions hanging over his head if he failed.

                                                      ~GP~

"Remind me why I'm here again," Patric groaned as they say down at Montoya's kitchen table.

"'Cause I invited you to play immature drinking games so we could all get shitfaced," Montoya answered with a slight slur.

"So we've played beer pong and flip cup. What are we playing now?" What kind of drinking game could they possibly play sitting around a table? Patric didn't know of any.

"Never Have I Ever," Montoya shrugged like it was obvious. The other three groaned.

Patric looked around lost, "How do you play that?"

"Basically what's gonna happen is you're going to say something that you've never done," Montoya explained.

"That's it?" Didn't sound like much of a game to Patric. And where did the drinking come in?

Just as Montoya was answering "Yup," the others chorused, "no."

"If you've done what the other person hasn't, you take a drink," Sophie added.

"And if you want to hear the story behind how the person's done it, you take a drink and they have to tell it," Isabelle chimed in.

"Got it," sounded pretty easy to Patric.

"Get ready to do a lot of taking. Most of us know each other's' stories." Jason shot a selfish grin in Patric's direction.

Oh great...

"Great! I'll start," Montoya declared clapping her hands. "Never have I ever," she paused and glanced around the table before her gaze landed on Isabelle, "lost a limb."

Isabelle narrowed her eyes at Montoya, "So that's how we're playing," she took a gulp of her beer to show that she had lost her leg.

"What?" Montoya shrugged innocently, "How was I supposed to know if blondie over here," she jerked her thumb at Patric, "had all his toes or not?"

Jason snorted out a laugh, "Yeah, Izzy. Aren't you glad we know that now?"

"Shut up, you," she glared good-naturedly at Jay.

"Just you wait until my turn," she promised Montoya.

Next up was Sophie, "Never have I ever had anal sex."

Jason nearly choked on air. Never had he expected to hear those words come out of her mouth. "Really Sophie, sex questions?" He asked even as he and Montoya took a drink. He was surprised to see Patric's cup remain on the table.

"Aren't you gonna take a drink?" he asked looking to the blond. Patric had to have anal sex before, right? Especially with a boyfriend like Nico.

Patric's brow crinkled in confusion. "I thought I was supposed to take a drink if I've done it."

"Yup," Montoya agreed loudly, "that's the idea."

"Right. I've never had anal sex," Patric said plainly.

Jay gave him a skeptical look but let it slide. The kid wasn't being honest or he was... whatever. It's not like it mattered.

Except... for some reason it kind of did to Jason.

It was Patric's turn next.

He licked his lips nervously, "Never have I ever broken into a house."

To his surprise, and relief, someone drank to that. Sophie took a sip of her beer.

Jason looked at her in shock and his expression was mirrored b everybody else at the table. Apparently none of them had known that about sweet Sophie Porter.

"Wait, I wanna hear about that, chica." Montoya laughed taking a swig out of her glass.

"Fine," Sophie agreed with no animosity. "It was when I still lived with my parents. They were away on a trip and somehow I managed to lock myself out of the house while I was working on the garden outside. So... I went around to all the windows and found one that wasn't locked. I pushed it open using the palms of my hands until I could slip my hands through the cracks at the bottom and pull up the window normally. Then I climbed into my house."

"Man, that was the lamest break in story ever Sophie," Montoya whined.

"I think it was pretty good thinking," Patric countered giving Sophie a winning smile that she returned full blast.

Jason saw their little exchange and felt his heart clench. He was jealous, he realized with a frown. He'd never gotten Patric to smile like that. That's when he realized they were all staring at his frowning face. "Uh... never have I ever gotten a tattoo?"

"Lame," Izzy and Montoya sang as they both took a drink.

He was surprised, once again, to see Patric didn't take a drink. Jason had always thought the rich bad boy type were all about bod-mods.

At the questioning look he was getting from Jason Patric offered, "My father would have killed me if I ever even thought about getting a tattoo."

Montoya was looking at Isabelle with a similarly questioning look. "Wait, you don't have a tattoo," she accused, "I've seen you naked."

"You wanna know more, you drink," Isabelle smiled seductively.

Patric had never seen someone drink anything as fast as Montoya did in that instant.

"I used to have a tattoo," Platt explained simply.

"How can you 'used to have a tattoo'?" Sophie voiced the question on everyone's mind.

"It was on my foot," she added.

Everyone understood immediately, "Wait... you don't have a tattoo on your foot," everyone except Montoya.

"It was on my right foot." Her foot that wasn't there anymore.

"Ohh."

And then it was Isabelle Platt's turn. She knew exactly what she was going to say to get back at Montoya for that "lose a limb" thing earlier.

"Never have I ever," she shot a playful glance in Montoya's direction, "been fluent on another language."

"Bastardo," Montoya growled taking a drink. Nobody was surprised by that, they all knew she was fluent in Spanish, but none of them expected Patric to also take a drink.

Sophie looked at him and took a sip of her beer, "I want to know more."

"Well, my mom's from Japan. She taught me Japanese from an early age. I actually learned that before English. It's really all we spoke when Father wasn't home."

"You're a Jap?" Montoya asked incredulously.

"Hai," Patric answered. "Hāfu, haha no soba ni. Watashi wa mattaku sore o miteinai shitte imasu. Iden-gaku wa, kimyōdesu. Watashi no imōto wa watashitachi no haha no sokkuridesu."

"Alright! We get it," Jason growled. With every revelation Patric made he found himself getting more confused and angry. At this rate, everything he thought about the boy was going to be proven wrong. Then he'd have nothing to stifle his attraction. No reason to say no to pursuing the boy romantically.

"Round two," Montoya began deeply doing her best impersonation of a cheesy gameshow announcer. "Never have I ever had a boyfriend.

Here, to no one's surprise the other four drank.

Sophie's second turn was a little more exciting than Montoya's. "Never have I ever broken the law," seeing the obvious eye roll from her colleagues she added, "with or without getting caught."

"Fuck!" Montoya hissed. "Why're you all ganging up on me?"

"Why have you done all of these things?" Patric countered.

"Ooh, burn," Isabelle laughed.

Jason was, once again looking at Patric in question. There was no fucking way this kid had never broken the law. Not with all the spray painting he's done. And Jason voiced as much.

Patric crossed his arms over his chest. "What? You don't believe that I've never broken a law?" He sounded hurt that Jason could think so ill of him. Hell, just a few days ago Jason thought him capable of murdering five people.

"But, the graffiti?" Jason clung to that word desperately.

"It's called commissioned artwork," Patric spat.

"Huh?" Jay said dumbly.

"Commissioned, stupid," Montoya chimed in helpfully. "Means he got paid to paint buildings pretty."

"I know what it means," Jay snapped.

"Well, sorry," Montoya muttered.

"Why don't you ever tell anyone you paint buildings with the owner's permission?" Sophie asked gently, curious. There had been a number of times in the past where Patric was brought in for being caught vandalizing buildings. Never once had he said he was supposed to be painting them.

Then again, never once had the building's owner followed through with pressing charges.

Everyone assumed it was because Patric's dad was rich and could pay to keep his precious heir out of trouble.

"That wasn't anyone's business besides me and my clients," Patric growled out getting hostile at the continued pestering.

"My turn? Good," Patric decided it was time to move the game along. "Never have I ever been tased." And just as he'd hoped, everyone groaned and took a swallow of beer. They all carried tasers and Patric knew in order to carry one you had to experience one.

That would teach them to gang up on him.

It was Jason's turn.