This story is set sometime between seasons 4 and 5. I envision Sam and Jules being free to leave work together and to live together. It has no bearing on any particular episode, but can easily describe their own type of debriefing at home after a difficult day at work.
Disclaimer: I write for my pleasure and your enjoyment. The characters are not mine; they were created by the producers of Flashpoint and apparently a half dozen other entities affiliated with the production of the TV series. They belong to those people. I just take them out and play with them occasionally. The situations and descriptions in this story belong solely to me using characters borrowed from Flashpoint.
Jules was silent during the ride home from work. Sam knew that she was still brooding over the hot call from that afternoon. She had not been quiet about her feelings of failure during the Team's debriefing session. No matter how many times the Team members had tried to convince her otherwise, she had not been dissuaded from her feelings of failure. He knew he'd be hearing more about it once they got home if and when she was ready to talk. He felt that everything had already been said, so he wasn't sure what else he could say to convince her that things had gone okay. No outcome is ever perfect, and this one had been better than most. Everyone went home. Well, everyone left the site still breathing. A victim had gone to the hospital while the subject had been sent to the psyche ward.
The exhausted couple silently prepared for bed. Fatigue was visible in every efficient move. Their synchronized movements honed by months of living together. They'd earned a couple of hours of OT when the day's critical incident ran long as did the debrief that came after. Exhaustion was just part of a normal day for them.
Sam gently grabbed Jules as she passed by him, spun her around and framed her face in his hands, "Jules, it's okay. You know it here." He placed a kiss on her head. "But you need to feel it here," he placed a hand over her heart. He could tell by her stubborn expression that he wasn't getting through to her at all. He sighed and released her to finish his nightly routine.
As they climbed into bed, a testy Jules spoke, "I just want to go straight to sleep tonight."
"Ok," Sam agreed, having learned long ago to give Jules space when she was in one of these moods. He was clearly unhappy and feeling like he should be doing something to help her. It was one of her biggest gripes about him: his need to fix everything for her. She was too darned independent and wanted to fix things for herself, but he also knew that she would eventually works things out for herself. She really didn't need his help, but that never quenched his desire to offer it.
Very quickly they were in bed and snuggling together. Even when there was a disagreement, especially about a call, they always maintained physical contact. Their personal union was too important to ever do otherwise. Jules tried to relax, but she restlessly flip-flopped around for a bit before she finally spoke to Sam, "I should be happier about the call today. No one died, but it still didn't end well. I should have done better." She berated herself and sat up, flipping on the light so she could see him.
"But, Jules, that wasn't your fault, " Sam countered. "The kid had already shot his schoolmate. You kept him from also shooting Raf or himself or you. How is that not a good thing?" Sam recalled his fear that he would have to shoot when the boy trained his gun on Raf and his terror when the gun was turned toward Jules. There would not have been a moment's hesitation if he'd heard "scorpio" in his ear.
"Yeah, I know," she reluctantly agreed, "but it still doesn't feel right." Sam could see the frustration visible on her face as they looked at each other.
"You know Sarge is always telling us that we don't always feel right just because we did right," Sam reminded her maintaining eye contact.
"I know." She was reluctant to concede the point to Sam. She blinked and looked away from Sam.
"But...?"
"I just can't help thinking that there should have been something I could have done to get through to him sooner."
"What? When? I think you did great. The whole Team thinks you did right. You talked the kid down. You kept him from killing himself or one of us. You cleared the way for the medics to get to the injured boy sooner, so what's the problem?" A hint of Sam's frustration with Jules' stubbornness bled through his comments.
"I guess I just feel like I should have gotten him to give up the gun before he shot that kid."
"No, Jules, he wasn't talking. He wasn't responding. He fired again before he ever connected with you or anyone else. It was the bullet hitting his friend that finally knocked some sense back into him. When he saw what he'd done, he was ready to talk. Not before." Sam continued his patient recital of the events. "You know that some people simply can't be talked down, and others need a shock to make them listen. This kid needed the shock of shooting his friend. You should be grateful that both kids are still breathing, that he had a lousy aim."
Jules continued to sit there in stony silence.
"You know that Sarge and the rest of Team agreed that you did everything you could. We went over all this at the debrief," Sam explained patiently. "There was nothing else to be done. It has to be on the subject's terms." Sam paused and waited for a reaction from Jules which was not forthcoming.
"So, I'm wasting my breath trying to talk you out of your funk?" Sam asked as he pulled Jules over and placed her face to face with himself.
"Yes, you are," she agreed, resting her head on his shoulder as she wrapped her arms around his chest. She needed to touch him, to touch her home base. She drew strength and calm from him.
"Okay." Sam paused a moment, "So if talking to you won't work, mind if I try to distract you?" He asked with a wicked cheeky grin.
She pretended to consider his request for a moment before replying softly in agreement, "yeah."
"I'll start here." He placed a gentle loving kiss on her lips. "Then I'll try here and here." He punctuated his comments with kisses along her jaw and neck and continued moving down her body. He stopped short of pressing his lips to her breasts, looked up at her and asked, "How am I doing?" He placed a kiss on the swell of her breast. "You distracted yet?"
"Getting there," she replied. She pulled at his head, "Come back here." She pulled his face up to hers and deepened the kiss, their lips tasting each other and enjoying the sensation. His distraction was beginning to work its magic on her.
Sam allowed his hands to wander, trailing them across her back and down to cup her hips closer to himself so she could feel how much he wanted her. She mimicked his moves and stroked his backside, too, enjoying the feel of his muscled hips and the pressure he applied to her center.
As Sam's hands roamed over Jules' body, he discovered that her neck muscles were tight. "Here, turn over so I can massage your neck," he ordered. She complied, and he began to knead and massage the tense, knotted muscles. When he felt them loosen up, he mumbled as he placed gentle kisses on her neck, "There, doesn't that feel better?"
No answer. He twisted around to see her face. Her eyes were closed, and he heard the gentle even breathing of a sleeping person.
Disappointment crossed his mind as he placed a gentle loving kiss on her cheek. "Sleep tight," he murmured. After he rolled over on his side to settle in to sleep, frustration flickered across his face and he berated himself. "See what happens," he mumbled to himself, "when you do something nice. She falls asleep before you can distract her."
Regardless of his personal disappointment, he left her sleeping. He knew she needed a night's rest to allow her brain to process the events of the day, so she'd wake up in a better mood. It always amazed him what a good night's sleep could do to one's thought processes.
Just as he began to relax into sleep himself, he was pounced upon by his little spitfire. She straddled him and chided him, "Wake up! You promised me a distraction, and now you're trying to sleep." While she spoke, she was untying the drawstring to his sleep pants and attempting to push them off. "I'm here to collect."
Sam laughed and quickly aided her efforts. "You little sneak. You faked me out with that slow even breathing," he accused.
"So?"
"So, I thought I would be missing playtime tonight."
"Noooo," she dragged out the word as she settled on top of him, spreading her legs so that he nestled in the juncture of her thighs. Her wiggling continued to tease him. "I want my distraction," she demanded.
"Happy to oblige." Sam grinned in satisfaction as he proceeded to help Jules remove her shirt and sleep shorts until both were lying there skin to skin. He relished the close contact, the physical and mental closeness they had managed to achieve.
Their kisses heated and deepened and surrounded their senses in a hot fog. The room receded. Her angst over the day's events faded away. There was only the two of them and this passion that always flared when they were together. The heat they had to work so diligently to contain at work but allowed to flame at home. Their kisses became hot and hungry and greedy. They became a twisted tangle of arms and legs.
Sam's lips sizzled against her skin. His eyes darkened with desire as he explored her body. His lips and hands roamed over her, tasting and scorching her skin wherever they paused to savor. Jules, her brain and senses overcome by Sam, returned his passion with blistering kisses of her own. Their movements and explorations became more frenzied and more intimate. Soon Sam was spreading Jules' legs wide to receive him. He entered her as he kissed her deeply, his tongue plunging in to savor her mouth mimicking the movements of his body.
He murmured words of love. She responded to his words and caresses and reciprocated in kind. Jules kept up with Sam, encouraged him to go further, longer, higher, faster. Before he knew it, they were both out of control, cresting and falling. He pulled her close and nestled her into his side. Just before they fell asleep, he whispered, "It'll be okay. I love you."