Standard disclaimer: I own nothing. But you knew that already didn't you :)

You Can't Handle The Truth

Pete hated being under the influence of artifacts, and this one was by far the worst. Everyone else was loving it though, especially Claudia. He knew the effects would wear off eventually, and he was really starting to consider locking himself in his room until that happened. He'd even give up cookies. Well, for a little while at least. He could never give up cookies forever.

It all started with a routine briefing and a flight to New York, and it just went downhill from there. Someone had managed to get Hanns-Joachim Gottlob Scharff's pocket watch. They eventually snagged, bagged, and tagged the artifact, but not before the guy had used it on Pete. Now he couldn't lie about anything.

His stomach finally got the better of him at 3AM, so he snuck down to the kitchen as quietly as he could to find something to eat, avoiding the creaky last stair on the way. After rooting around in the refrigerator for a few minutes, he decided to just make himself a sandwich. He sat down at the table with his food and a Coke, enjoying the fact that no one was around to ask him questions.

Claudia chose that moment to walk in to the room, grinning like the cat that finally got the canary and found catnip inside. She dropped down into the chair across from Pete and folded her hands on the table, almost bouncing up and down at the prospect of getting to ask him whatever she wanted and know it was a completely honest answer. She was more excited than a kid on Christmas morning, and with her natural happiness and exuberance, that was really saying something. Claudia just sat there, letting the silence work on making Pete uncomfortable, even though she was bursting at the seams with horribly embarrassing questions.

Claudia took in a deep breath, put on her best interrogator face, and started in on him. "So Pete," she began, "What's the most embarrassing thing that's ever happened to you?" She asked. She was obviously enjoying this far more than she should. She couldn't wait for the answer to this one. So far, no one had really asked Pete much of anything. They thought it was funny, but at least they respected his privacy. They got little things out of him, like his first kiss (which really wasn't all that good), his first breakup (he thought the world would end), and the first girl he had ever slept with (Her name was Jessica, they were both drunk, and it didn't start, or end, well).

Pete clenched his jaw, wishing the answer wouldn't come out. Wish in one hand, he thought to himself, just before he started speaking against his will. "I was really drunk one night after a really bad breakup, and this girl started hitting on me. He name was Samantha. She was pretty cute, but that could have been the alcohol. Anyway, we hit it off really well and before I knew it we were stumbling in to her place. Then I hit third base and found out Samantha used to be Samuel. The next day was my first day on the wagon."

By the end of his answer, his face could have been a tomato, it was so red. He thought he was going to die of embarrassment all over again. He had forced the event from his mind and never spoke of it again. In fact, he had requested a transfer to another city just so he wouldn't run in to 'Samantha' again. He glanced up at Claudia and found an expression on her face that was completely unreadable. Then she started laughing. Hysterically. She was laughing so hard she nearly fell out of her chair.

"Pete, I didn't know you swung that way!" she choked out, wiping the tears from her eyes. That answer alone was pure gold, and definitely worth enough to get him to do pretty much whatever she wanted.

And the worst part was, she knew it.

After her laughter had subsided, she looked at him with amusement still dancing in her eyes and said, "So now you're going to sit here and answer my questions, or I'm going to find this Samantha guy and tell him exactly where you are, and then let him tell everyone here, in technicolor detail, about what happened that night." It was a bluff, and she knew it, but it was still enough to drain the color from Pete's face and make him stay in his chair. He definitely wouldn't risk that getting around.

After a few more embarrassing questions and even more embarrassing answers, Pete was considering the benefits of cutting out his tongue. He could always use Barnaby's Top from the warehouse to grow it back later like Artie did with his appendix.

Time to put this plan into action, Claudia thought to herself. Her entire plan hinged on the answers to the next few questions. She was really hoping to get him and Myka together, thus the 3AM interrogation.

"Are you in love? And I mean a real, proper, can't make it an hour without seeing the person, think about them all the time even when they're there, never get over them if they leave, love?" She was on the edge of her seat, waiting for the answer.

Pete turned white, his eyes got as wide as dinner plates, and his mind started cursing profusely as a "Yes," escaped past his traitorous lips. He wanted to run, and he was really weighing the embarrassment of everyone finding out about the Samantha/Samuel fiasco against where he knew this was going to go.

Claudia leaned forward, obviously completely interested in this conversation. She placed her hands in her lap, sat up straight in her chair, and looked at Pete for a second before she asked with a knowing smile, "Do I know her?"

Pete dropped his head and avoided her eyes and squeaked out another "Yes" before slapping his hands over his mouth, his eyes bugging out of their sockets. He clamped his hands tighter around his jaw, hoping he could muffle his answers enough she wouldn't understand them. He may not be able to lie, but he could definitely do that much.

Claudia leaned forward as far as the table would allow her and asked the lynchpin question, her whole reason for not sleeping and ambushing Pete. "Are you in love with Myka?"

Unfortunately, he had to tell the truth, and he couldn't stop himself. There was the muffled sound of an answer that Claudia couldn't understand. She was almost disappointed that Pete had found a way around the artifact's effects when he suddenly started to nod his head up and down slowly, apparently against his will, if the widening of his eyes was any indication. Apparently yes or no questions could be answered in a variety of ways, and the artifact was forcing him to answer visually since he was unable to answer verbally.

Claudia smiled widely and nodded her head once, trying desperately to hide her glee and actually succeeding. She stood up, stretched, and told Pete she had all the answers she needed before heading up to bed, leaving an utterly mortified Pete sitting at the table, staring at nothing.

A/N – Should I continue this? I honestly can't decide...

Secondary A/N – Hanns-Joachim Gottlob Scharff (A.K.A. The master interrogator) was a Nazi interrogator known for being able to get any information he wanted without ever using physical means. He just talked and asked questions. Many interrogation techniques used today were developed by him. Look him up, it's pretty interesting stuff.