Title: The Second Time
Author: KiKi
Spoiler: 106 Attention Shopper and 109 Planets Aligned
A/N: this if my first time writing for Flashpoint, and particularly trying to capture Jules & Sam's voice… I'm still working through their personality, but I hope I have done an acceptable job in my first try :). Please let me know what you think!
Added Disclaimers (Dec. 30, 2008): I just watched Season 2's premier (it was actually shot as part of Season 1, but oh well), and I wanna say... I wrote this out before I saw that... I swear... Scout's honour!
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The first time it had happened, he had been too far to do anything about it. He had forgotten how to breathe, how to function; his brain was void of any thoughts other than the need to race towards her and get her back to safety.
His size had inhibited him from following their subject too closely, and so he had had to reluctantly let her throw the narrow shaft herself. By the time he had caught up with them, she was already with the subject at the edge of the roof top. He had watched, in abject horror, as she climbed over the railing and stood out on the ledge with the girl. But there was nothing much that he could do. She had been simply doing her job, and it was to save that distraught girl.
But he had convinced himself that it was nothing. Sure, his heart almost stopping when a member of his team had fallen over and had been dangling in mid-air with a teenage girl was a normal reaction. That team member only happened to be the one girl in whom he had shown any sign of interest in the past year and a half.
And that the rest of the guys were equally nervous watching her dangle in thin air. Whether they would admit it or not, whether they would openly acknowledge it or not, Julianna Callaghan would always be a member they would protect at all cost. They had all, in their own way, made sure Jules was alright.
Only that he had shown his concern a little more openly, by going into her changing room and asking to touch her bruise. It didn't mean that he cared more than the other guys. He had been seriously concerned about Jules because she had been dangling off the side of a building with an unstable, suicidal subject who could have, in theory, taken Jules down with her. He simply had been concerned. It had been in no way what-so-ever to do with the fact that he felt an instant attraction to her the minute he had seen her in action.
That had been the first time he realized he didn't want to imagine what his world would be like with Julianna Callaghan in it.
It was a little disconcerting, actually, given the fact that when that incident had happened, they had only known one another a little more than a month. Still, he was a man who trusted his gut, and his gut was telling him to hold onto this woman.
The second time it had happened, he had been right there in the room with her. Serge had made her negotiator, and she had reluctantly complied. She had been uncomfortable, and she had fumbled, her nerves getting to her. Yet, she had done her job well, up until the point where she had stepped out of his protective stance and placed herself directly in the line of fire.
Damn that woman. Didn't she know it was his job to protect her? That it was more than just his duty or his post for the day, that they were partners by unspoken arrangements, that he felt like he was destined to protect her?
She would probably kick his ass if she heard him say that, but that would be beside the point. His job had been to shield her, and in his eyes, he had failed severely when Penny was able to point a gun directly at her stomach.
Right in front of his eyes, with him in the room.
His heart had stopped for a second time, and he honestly had no idea what to do.
Did Julianna Callaghan know that when it was a race between a bullet aimed at your stomach and reflexes to avoid said bullet, the bullet always won, hands down, no doubt?
Sometimes, he wondered what that woman understood what it meant to take precaution for her personal safety. She was good, he would admit that, but that was still no reason to put herself in harm's way.
She had no idea how much it tore him up inside to see his partner vulnerable to an unstable girl's shotgun.
Especially when said partner was also someone he had started developing some serious feelings for.
And so, here he was, in her dressing room. He wondered if this would be stalker behaviour, where she could report him to Serge and cost him his job. But then, he also trusted Jules. She was an uptight woman. She would understand.
He would make her understand.
He was playing with the pressure ball he had started carrying again his pocket when her dressing room door opened. It had to be her – there was simply nobody else who would be entering her dressing room.
Well, you're here yourself, aren't you? His annoyingly logical mind retorted. So why can't others?
He shook his head. Having a conversation in his whole head about whether or not the other guys would enter into Julianna Callaghan's dressing room would not help me pass his psych eval.
The door banged shut and he held his breath. Tried as he might, he could not detect a scent of the woman that had haunted his thoughts. He had expected it, the job had demanded it (lest her girly perfume gave away their position)) but the alpha male in him always wanted to be able to identify the woman of his desire.
Regardless, he knew it was her. His gut told him so, and it was already established how much he trusted his gut. His gut had told him something was not right about that last shot he took as a sniper, and he had ignored it. Look where it got him.
He watched in the shadows as she took off her gear, sighing wearily as the grimes of a hard day's work in the field were peeled away from her body. Then, in the flash of an eye, Sam Broddock found himself staring at the barrel of her personal weapon.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" her voice boomed and echoed in the dressing room. "I could have seriously hurt you."
"You wouldn't" he shook his head. No, if there was one thing he knew for certain about the woman standing in front of him, it would be her need to save everything and the painstaking care she took every time before she discharged her weapon.
"I'm not talking about the gun," she seemed to be able to read his mind. "Don't undermine me just because I'm a girl and I am smaller than you."
"Jules, I know what you are capable of," he offered, hopefully to placate her.
She sent him another glare before holstering her weapon, "What are you doing here?"
"We need to talk," he demanded, "seriously talk."
"We're talking."
"God, Jules, do you have to be so stubborn?"
"I'm stubborn?"
"Yes," he was becoming infuriated, and the temper he had been known for making an appearance despite his best intentions as his voice started to grow louder. "Do you even know the risk you were placing yourself at when you stepped from behind me today at the house? Do you even know how you could have been killed before any of us can do a damn thing about it? And have you considered what it would do to all of us? And what are we to do, shoot her? Save you?"
"I can take care of myself," she retorted, advancing on him and invading his personal space. He refused to budge. "I know what I am doing, and I know there is no reason to kill that little girl. Do not undermine me Sam Braddock."
He stood his ground and stared into her whisky-coloured eyes, daring her to flinch or blink, "No one here undermines you, Julianna Callaghan. No one, but yourself, so get over your self-proclaimed need to watch your back because you think we are all waiting for you to slip up once and listen. We are worried about you; I am worried about you."
"You don't know what it's like," she all but seethed. "You don't know how hard it is for me and how much I – "
He had to stop her. Before this got any more out of control, he had to stop her, and he did it the only way he could think of. It was reckless, and dangerous, and daring, and could very well have him kicked out of the SRU and formally reprimanded and it could end his career.
But it was also oh-so-good.
And she was a willing participant. After the initial shock, she kissed him back, her lips moving against his in a sensual pattern and parted her lips when he sought entry to explore further.
Finally, when they parted, they were both panting heavily, his hands were resting on her back, keeping her close to him.
"Don't say it's a mistake," he demanded, his eyes boring into hers, imploring her to not denounce what they had just shared.
"What's going to," she countered, "Mind telling me what that was about?"
"It's pretty obvious, isn't it?"
"No, it's not," she pulled herself out of his embrace, and he let her. "What exactly was that about?"
"It's about my trying to tell you why you need to take care of yourself."
"Oh, and why is that?"
"Because whether you want it or not, I intend to be right there beside you, and I swear to God, the next person who points a gun at you is going to be facing down the barrel of my weapon, you got me?"
"Long as I can do the same," she was smiling, a sassy, know-it-all smile that was directed at him.
"Wouldn't dream of it any other way."
"Good."