This is what 3 am boredom has brought me to…enjoy (:
"Thanks for helping me finish up with these files, Jules, it means a lot." Greg mentioned as he shifted from one paper to another, adding each to their proper files, as did Jules. "I might actually get out of here before midnight tonight." He laughed, stacking the final papers together and handing them off to Winnie who exited the room with them.
"Aw, no problem Boss. Is that everything?" She asked, picking her bag up off the table and slinging it over her shoulder.
He nodded, "Yeah that should be it, thanks again."
She turned on her heel and steadily picked up pace to get out of the room before she heard him call out, "Hey Jules—Wait…"
She paused before turning back to face him, having a pretty good guess to what this was going to be about. "Sir?" She responded politely, while on the inside she was silently cursing up a storm.
"How's everything been going? I mean, since the whole re-qualifying thing. I know it brought up a lot and I was just hoping—."
"Everything's great, Boss. I'm holding up on my own—everything's going fine." She gave him a reassuring smile, hoping that would seal the fate of that conversation.
He leaned against the table in the room and gave her a grin, "That's good—Well, See you tomorrow, Jules."
She walked over to him and gave him a quick hug, just one more thing to reassure him before leaving to head home—or well, her second home.
Greg stood up from the table and realigned the chairs to the briefing room before beginning to collect his things. Just as he stepped to head out a vibration came from the edge of the table.
Typical Jules, leaving her phone everywhere. She used to make a habit of it—of course, until she and Sam started sneaking around—those days she wouldn't hardly let anyone check the time with it.
Greg shook his head and went to grab it off the table to take it up to the front desk until they would return the next morning. The screen lit up automatically, revealing three missed calls and six missed texts—the newest appearing vividly on the large touch screen.
"You done helping the Boss? I'm waiting…"
Greg rolled his eyes and shook his head before turning off the screen and attempting one more time to leave the room—only for it to vibrate again.
"Wait, we did say we'd do it at my place, right?"
He felt bad seeing the texts and shook it off once more, until it vibrated for a final time.
"Oh, forgot to tell you—I need it to be whipped."
Greg's eyes widened and he almost felt sick after reading that text. Who in the world is—
The label for each incoming text was labeled Sam.
An overbearing about of fury with a slight bit of disgust came over him. How could she lie to his face like that? Why are they doing this again? Didn't they learn their lesson the first time? His eyes narrowed as he shut off the phone's screen and placed it in the bottom drawer of the front desk.
Leaving the station, he knew tomorrow was gonna be a tough jump on two of his teammates—he had to set this straight and set rules or no one was ever going to take him seriously.
"Hey baby." Jules whispered as she walked into Sam's apartment, her arms covered in bags from the grocery store.
"You got everything?" Sam replied, helping her relieve the weight by taking them from her and replacing them with a kiss on her lips.
She nodded and dropped her bag on his couch before heading over to his small kitchen, "Got the batter, got the sprinkles, got the frosting—and its whipped, just like you like it."
He smiled and leaned down to kiss her on the forehead, "No way was I gonna let us do this without it being whipped. The regular kind is too just—normal."
Jules giggled and grabbed a pan, ready to get started on the night's events. "Got all the other ingredients out?" She asked, reaching for eggs and the box of batter.
"Got it." Sam replied, "Hey speaking of that, did you ever get my texts? What was taking so long?"
Beating the eggs together in a mixing bowl, Jules laughed, "Oh man—Sarge was onto me. It was so weird. He was asking me how I was doing after the whole deal with Toth, like that—So technically he was asking if we were back together."
Sam emptied the contents of the cake batter into the bowl, laughing in reply, "And what did you tell him?"
"I told him that we were madly in love and I was on my way to have a sexcapade at your place—what do you think I told him!"
"Well, that does sound like a good idea." He wrapped his hands around her waist and kissed her lightly on the neck. "You think he knows?"
"Nah—He trusted it… or well, I hope he did."
"You never answered my original question though, did you ever get my texts?"
She shrugged, "I don't know, I was too focused on getting out of there then to the store then here before seeing someone I knew. I was the only one who volunteered to stay an hour and a half late to help the guy!"
He nodded and continued on with getting everything in the oven and done.
After lounging around for almost and hour, Jules jumped up off the couch, releasing herself from Sam's tight grip. "Ready for the icing?" She asked, winking at him and making him leap from the sofa.
"First we'll use all that we need—then—you know the rest."
She completely layered icing from each side of the pan inward and dropped the spatula in the sink. "Looks good to me." She added the finishing touches and placed it into a container before sticking it all to the side and clearing an open spot on the counter.
"Now about that extra icing." Jules giggled, reaching for Sam and placing a bit on his nose.
"I do love whipped icing."
"Damn it, I can't find my phone anywhere." Jules yelled, climbing through her bag before zipping it shut. Both she and Sam were getting ready for work—ready to make their stealth entry but held back by the fact that her phone was nowhere to be found. "I must've left it in my locker room or something. Ugh, this is just wonderful."
They headed on down to the station, Jules dropping Sam off a block away—then heading back around to park and walk in solo.
She snuck in the back door, holding her bag up against her and heading straight to her dressing room. Entering the room, she dropped the bag on the counter and pulled out the contents.
Knock-Knock
"You decent?" Sam asked as he entered the room.
"Like it matters." She joked, "Yeah, is he here yet?"
"Yep, he's getting ready but looks like we're all—."
The door slung open—not very characteristic for the female locker room to be pushed and shoved around, poor thing must've had a heart attack.
"You two—I need to speak to you two about something." It was Greg. Oh God. He stepped into the room, not even closing the door behind him. His hand slid into his pocket, pulling out Jules' phone. "You left this on the table in the briefing room last night. Now—I want to know why A- you lied to me last night, and B- why you two are doing this. You know this is against the rules—you can't be doing this, or I'll have to kick you both off the team, end of story."
Jules and Sam gave each other an uneven stare. "Sarge, what are you talking about?" Jules broke the odd silence, reaching for the phone.
"Sam those texts—." Greg spoke.
"Sarge—."
"I just can't believe you two—after everything this team has been through."
"But Sarge—."
"It's just so irresponsible!"
"But Sarge!" Jules yelled, snapping his attention back to her. "We were just—We were just making a cake for Spike's birthday." She said, reaching down onto her counter to lift it up into her hands. "See?"
"But—you—you two—."
"It has whipped icing." Sam added.
The door knocked again—the rest of the team entering this time.
"OH MY GOSH, YOU MADE ME A BIRTHDAY CAKE!" Spike hollered, jumping past Greg to see it. "Thanks guys! You guys are the best friends ever!"
"Sweet, Cake." Ed joked, following Spike to take it to the briefing room to be eaten.
Jules patted Greg on the shoulder as they all ran out of the dressing room and to the briefing room where birthday celebrations began.
Greg stood alone in the dressing room—confused, baffled, lost, not sure what the hell was going on. In all the craziness the team had endured he had forgotten birthdays. Hell, it could have been Christmas and he wouldn't have even known. He had jumped to conclusions and thought of the worst. He should have known they were more professional than he was giving them credit for.
He headed up the stairs and to the briefing room where the cake was already being lit with candles. It all made sense now.
Silly Ol' Greg… Always assuming the worst—well, what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him.