Blonde, Brunette or Redhead?
Disclaimer: Flashpoint belongs to my grandfather…. well no, but it's nice to say that.
:: Spoilers for 02x09 – Exit Wounds, 03x01 – One Wrong Move, 03x02 – Never Let You Down and 03x05 – Coming to you Live.
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Sam took a large gulp of beer, feeling a pure satisfaction when the liquor burned his throat. He could have joined the rest of the 'Scooby Gang' in Wordy's place-- Shelly had invited the whole team now that she had perfected her Italian cooking skill--, but he had called Wordy fifteen minutes ago to tell him that he had to pass and wish them good night. The general happened to be in town and he had personally asked Samuel to come and join him for dinner. While Sam would rather spend the night hanging out with his teammates and eating home-made cooking, saying no to his father was just a definite no-no. He had waited for nearly forty five minutes in the lobby of Royal York, feeling more stupid as the minutes went by, when his phone beeped. Something came up. We'll have to reschedule. Yes, Sir, as you wish. Aye aye Captain!
Deep down though, it was a relief.
He supposed he could climb on his bike and go straight to Wordy's place. The night was still fairly young and they probably hadn't even started their second bottle, but this was nice. Him, sitting there alone with a half-empty cold beer and the late Michael Jackson softly serenading how the world had become a better place in the background.
Early Thursday evening was never a busy time and Mike's Café and Bar wasn't crowded. A group of men in suits huddling in one corner with cloud of smokes around their heads and a few regular customers scattered about the café. Mike was wiping the counter with a dishtowel in a lazy circular motion while watching last night's game on TV. It was a quiet evening.
The atmosphere was tinted with a scent of melancholy and bitter aroma and it suited his mood today. It wouldn't be a challenge to get drunk tonight. Sam smiled lightly and emptied his drink before waving his hand to ask for another bottle. As Karen walked closer with his order, he couldn't help but letting the memory from earlier today float back.
'Late night?'
'Yeah, you could say that,'
'Blonde, brunette or redhead?'
"Thanks, Karen," Sam nodded, his eyes moving down her slender form. While his heart belonged to another woman, it didn't mean he had stopped appreciating a female form. Karen was tall and slim, with a pair of long legs that seemingly went on forever before they disappeared underneath her uniform. Her curly blonde hair bounced on her shoulders with every step she took. She was lovely.
There had been three blondes walking in and out of his life, the latest being the one he met in this exact same place a week after he got dumped so inelegantly. His heart was shredded to pieces and Kara was there to pick them up. As a lawyer in training, her wit had successfully overcome the stereotype and perceptions that all blondes were as smart as Paris Hilton. She was just a rebound, of that he was fully conscious, but it was nice while it lasted.
"Are you waiting for someone?"
"You," Sam replied with a wink. As much as he had ripened over the past few years, the boyish Sam Braddock still resided somewhere inside.
The ring around her finger glittered under the dim light as she swapped the empty bottle with a full one. "I'm sorry but I'm engaged," Karen let out a theatrical exasperated sigh and fumbled with the ring just for the heck of it. "Don't you see this rock?"
"Yeah, I think I heard that somewhere before,"
Karen giggled. "You enjoy the night, Constable Braddock,"
'Late night?'
Oh Jules, you had no idea…
It was genuinely meant to come out as a joke although it aroused a reaction he wouldn't have expected. While his partner slash former girlfriend was normally always good at concealing her emotions, the bitterness in her voice had not been that difficult to catch. Didn't know you had the stamina.
He was probably imagining it, but damn. No woman had ever treated him like Jules did him; it had simply never ever happened. He had always had full control in relationships. When they had begun to cause him troubles, he would cut them lose, as simple as that.
However, that was before he met the sexy sniper chick. Not with Jules… she had the remote. She owned him. She owned so much of him and he actually didn't really care. He had even come to love it. But of course, that was before she without warning threw everything out of the window. Not that he hadn't seen that coming. There had been a part of him sitting in a corner, anxiously expecting it to come, yet there had also been another part that at the same time silently wishing she cared for him enough to fight for them; fuck the rules. But life was not a fairytale as Disney seemed to make it out to be. Shit happens and life goes on. Either you try to make it a part of your life or let it consume you.
The bitter ex boyfriend in him was thrilled. To detect any kind of jealousy from Jules, especially after she dumped him, had felt really nice.
"And why would someone as sexy as you sit here alone?"
Sam lifted his head just in time to see a stunning redhead sliding to the empty chair opposite him. Her dark hazel eyes were fixated on him, a flirtatious smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.
He smirked. Jules would have loved to see this.
"I guess I could ask you the same question," Sam returned the smile before taking another long sip. He didn't need to have a woman running her hands all over his body to know that he was being hit on. While he would have opted to spend the night all by himself, he wasn't going to send this lady away.
"You didn't answer the question,"
"Neither did you,"
She smiled and tossed her auburn tresses back over her shoulder. "I'm Julia,"
Another smirk. Jules would have been ecstatic to see this.
"Well, Julia, that is a very nice name,"
Julia was a single mother from Texas who loved to spend nights snuggling in front of the TV and enjoyed long strolls in the beach. She loathed horror and action movies although immediately revised her statement once he told her what he did for a living. Oh, I loveee cops! The bigger the gun, the better! She had exclaimed, the suggestive leer didn't go unnoticed.
As Julia kept talking, Sam sighed inwardly, regretting that the once full of life and chatty Jules had slowly vanished right in front of his eyes. They hadn't had normal conversations for a while and she barely said more than a single mouthful of words to him. Okay, over exaggerating, but it pretty much explained their situation now. She was avoiding him, big time, and wasn't even trying to hide it. In contrary of what Ed might have said, he wasn't as dense as everyone seemed to think. He had one or two ideas of what had earned him such attitude...
'... I cannot even imagine what you have been through. But I do know what it is like to lose somebody who had absolutely no business dying and to have not had a chance to say goodbye, and be disgusted with people for just walking down the street like the world's the same place. That if you had just done something different, they still might be here.'
Word per word, they constantly echoed in his ears and were solely responsible for countless sleepless nights. She was trying to negotiate Dale, but he would have to be a fool not to catch the underlying meaning. The fact that she had refused to look at him for two days straight afterward backed up the initial thought.
Jules was blaming him for walking away, for not showing up at debrief. She was blaming him for grieving.
Would she do that? Would she even think about thinking about it? As the only person whom he had trusted with his inner pain and emotional struggle he had been carrying ever since Afghanistan, would she easily judge him like that?
"… and be disgusted with people for just walking down the street like the world's the same place."
Maybe she didn't know him as well as he'd thought she did.
"Officer, are you listening to a single word I said?"
Sam blinked. Julia's soft scolding and a kick on his leg jarred him back to reality. She rested her chin on the top of her clasped hands, a frown knotting her brows. "Yeah, sorry, I was just-,"
"Long day at work?" Julia filled in with a sympathetic smile.
"Something like that,"
"Girl problems?"
Sam grinned sheepishly, suddenly looking like a five year old busted with his hand in a cookie jar. "Something like that,"
"I'm going to pretend that I haven't been wasting my time trying for something completely futile," Julia said with a mock mean glare. "Wouldn't be the first time, but oh well,"
Sam winced. "I'm sorry. But I did really enjoy your company,"
"Here's hoping for a better day tomorrow," Julia raised her glass, clinking it with his bottle.
"For a new friendship,"
"Charmer," Julia moved back her chair and smoothed down her dress as she got up.
"You don't have to leave,"
"Normally I would say that you need a very good night sleep," Julia said, a quick wink accompanying her teasing. "To distract you from your problems, but I think I'll just leave you be with your beer and thoughts," She leaned down and brushed a feathery kiss on his cheek. "Good evening, Sam,"
He squeezed her hand. "Same to you, Julia,"
There's something we don't talk about
Rather do without
And just hold the smile
Falling in and out of love
Ashamed and proud of
Together all the while
Today was a progress though. Their quick banter at HQ after the mission was over… it had felt like the old times. For probably the million times, he wondered whether things would have been different if he hadn't kissed her that day. As always, the answer came seconds after. Maybe, but he had no regrets. Their relationship might have been short lived but it had been wonderful.
"How many times do I have to tell you that I don't have time for this?"
His reverie was cut short when his trained ears picked up the voice that he would recognize anywhere, anytime. He swirled around and was immediately greeted by the sight of Julianna Callaghan standing near the counter. She was not alone though; a big tall guy with military hair cut was towering over her. Speak of the devil.
"Come on, Jules, it's only a drink," The begging tone in his voice made him appear ridiculously small compared to the petite brunette next to him.
"Scott," Sam noticed the menace in Jules' voice. She had her back to him, but Sam knew her. From her posture he could tell that she was struggling not to do some ass kicking that undoubtedly would make Ed one proud team leader.
"Jules, come on," Scott just made a mistake by grabbing her arm and in one quick move, Jules freed herself and twisted his arm behind his back. He released an unattractive painful growl as she applied more pressure to his arm. What little of the customers had started stealing glances their way. It was such an interesting sight in such a boring evening.
Sam could only shake his head. While he reckoned it would be a bit nice to have a damsel in distress girlfriend, Jules was every bit of everything he had ever wanted. Before he realized what he was doing, he moved to his feet and in three long strides was standing behind the pair.
"I think you should listen to her," Sam pointed out, announcing his presence. "It'll be pretty sad to show up in the Emergency Room with a broken arm done by a girl not even half your size,"
Jules' eyes flew up to meet his and he could have sworn the sparks were still there. She looked surprised, but more annoyed more than anything. "Just leave, Scott." She released her dead grip on him and pushed him off slightly. Scott took a deep gulp of air and tried to move his arm, checking if all the parts were working properly.
"I'll call you," Was his parting goodbye before he left, but not before tossing Sam a dirty look.
And then there were two.
Sam tore his eyes from the still swinging door to look down at Jules. She hadn't looked at him and he wondered if approaching her was a mistake. When he had almost believed that he shouldn't have done what he had done, Jules tilted her head up and asked, "Why aren't you at Royal York?"
He decided to dismiss the accusing tone in her voice. "Why aren't you at Wordy's?"
Jules shrugged. "I asked first,"
"Ladies first, so please, feel free to answer first,"
Her eyes narrowed and she put her hands around her slim hip. She let her hair down, letting the brown tresses framing her face delicately. Sam had to bury his hands deep in his pockets to keep him from pushing a strand of fallen hair behind her ear. It was too tempting. Even after all this time, after the way she had treated him, he was still craving for her.
"Very funny, Sam,"
"I could have kicked his ass, only I knew you would have done it first,"
"Yeah, always trying to be the big hero, aren't you?" Her fingers were drumming against the mahogany counter. Sam had to swallow his smile. Jules was nervous.
"Well, what can I say? Everyone always needs to be needed. It gives you something-,"
"To shoot for," Jules finished with a roll of her eyes. "It's getting old. You really should come up with a new word of wisdom,"
"How have you been?" Sam asked suddenly, trying to make a casual, light-hearted getting-to-know-you-again conversation.
"Kicking and alive,"
His arms were swinging languidly at his sides. They were standing so close yet it felt as though there was a deep abyss separating them. He hated it. "Beside the obvious, I mean,"
Her answers came out short and packed. Jules looked more tense all of a sudden. She looked absolutely beautiful in a deep burgundy tank-top and a pair of black jeans that hung on her hips, but even nice clothes and light make-up couldn't cover the physical and mental exhaustion etched on her face. "I'm alright. Living. Adjusting,"
How are you adjusting, Jules? Do you and Leah get along well? Do you still have nightmares? Do you still love me? Do you hate me?
"My dad canceled at the last minute," Sam heard himself explain. Not that he needed to, but he did anyway. "I wasn't really in a celebrating mood, so here I am,"
At that, Jules' eyes did her own little inspection, those brown orbs exploring his face closely. "I just dropped by to pick up a few things. I met Scott outside,"
"The infamous Scott, huh? Not exactly what I had in mind," Sam commented, leaning against the counter.
"Should I be worried that you apparently had been imagining Scott?" Jules asked with a cock of her eyebrows, for a second sounding like his old Jules. He suddenly realized how much he had missed her; missed having his best friend around.
In spite of everything, Sam broke into peals of laughter, delighted in the way her lips twitched into a faint smile ever so slightly. "You and your twisted mind,"
There was quiet for a full minute. They were giving each other space and time to absorb the fact that they were re-communicating. It had been far too long.
Come on, Braddock, talk to her, ask her, confront her! Don't be such a pussy!
Then her phone rang.
Sam stifled a growl of frustration. His hands clenched and unclenched as she broke their stares to pick up her phone. He was so close…
"Yes, Ed, I'll be there in fifteen. No worries. Yes, no, there's no psycho holding me hostage and you guys won't have to come to my rescue anytime soon. Very funny. See you in a bit." She thumbed off the phone and pocketed it back. For a while she was shifting her weight from one foot to another. "Um, that was Ed. I probably have to go,"
"Of course,"
Jules chewed her lips, a nervous gesture he fondly remembered. When she talked after that, Sam knew it was with lots of effort. "You want to tag along? Shelly's making ravioli,"
A smile cracked his stoic face. "We'll take your car? I'll just leave my bike and get it back later," They had to talk. He would be damned if he let this opportunity slip out of his hands.
"Okay," Jules agreed reluctantly.
Their fingers brushed all the way they were walking towards the exit. From the juke box The Fray had replaced the legendary King of Pop, and was singing about how people should never say never.
'Blonde, brunette or redhead?'
'One of each, Jules, one of each….'
:: The song used is Never Say Never by The Fray.
:: Thanks for reading! Two more days till The Farm (: Here's hoping for another Sam/Jules moment *crossing fingers*
