A Jar of Jam
Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
I promised CTI_Jenn a smut story for her birthday (Happy birthday, Jenn!), but it's not finished yet. So, this is a jar of jam as an appetizer. The stories aren't connected to one another and they were written based on three prompts: anniversary, water, compromise - in that order.
As always, thanks to my beta, Trish.
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.snow lady
"Next time we go to Home Depot we are so making you some spare keys." Jules said half teasingly as she opened the door. Her smile faded when she saw a small bouquet of white daisies clutched in his hands. "Sam?"
Sam grinned sheepishly. "For you. Happy anniversary."
Her breath caught in her throat. Today marked exactly one month from the day she went back to his apartment with him. She had known that for the past week, but hadn't felt the need to mention it to Sam. They were never that type of couple who celebrated anniversaries anyway. Though clearly, he was more perceptive than she had given him credit for.
"Thank you, Sam. They're beautiful." She gratefully accepted the flowers and his kiss before ushering him in, still wary of public displays of affection even if it's at her doorway.
"I'm glad. I wondered if I should have gone with roses or something more colorful."
She beamed widely. "I love them. Why daisies?"
Sam toed off his shoes and followed her to the kitchen. "They reminded me of you - simple, strong, beautiful. It seemed to fit."
Jules retrieved a small blue ceramic vase from the lower cabinet and filled it with water. "I think this is the first time you got me flowers."
"You didn't seem to like them when you were hospitalized. I wasn't sure if it's because of the situation or you prefer plants to flowers."
"I blamed the situation," she bristled, feeling a tad upset just like every other time she had to recall her hospital stay. "You were so sweet with the plant though, and I didn't even mind your not so but a bit cheesy speech about thinking long term."
Sam grinned self-consciously, looking like the rookie he had been all of a sudden. "Well, I am thinking long term too this time."
Jules eyed the daisies skeptically. "Please don't tell me one of these is fake."
He laughed and took something from the inside pocket of his jacket - a small pink pouch tied with a silver ribbon. "If you plant these in the fall, they should bloom next summer. I know you've been thinking about growing some new flowers, so why not daisies? The florist said the Snow Lady variety would make beautiful border plants."
Smiling, she set aside the small package on the counter and looped her arms around his neck. "I never grew daisies before. There could be pest, insects, mold…"
He bumped her nose with his. "It's not easy for us to get here either, and I don't think it will be all smooth sailing from here and out. But we're not giving up, right?"
Jules tried to look serious - as serious as she could when his hand had slipped underneath her blouse and was caressing the skin of the small of her back with his calloused fingertips. "They may not bloom at all, and I probably will have to try another batch next year. So yes, it seems like you're going to be stuck with me for an indefinite time."
"Nowhere else I'd rather be," Sam whispered before capturing her lips with his own. For a long moment nothing else seemed to matter as they expressed their deep feelings for each other in a passionate engagement of mouths and breaths. "It's going to be fine."
"Then in that case," she smiled, the double meaning behind his words didn't go unnoticed. "We are so getting you some gardening gloves too."
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.underwater indulgence
As much as she loved Sam, staying in his two bedroom apartment made her feel claustrophobic most of the time. Still though, she had to admit she loved how his bathtub was bigger and deeper than hers- more space when she got in alone and less crammed when he decided to join her.
Could get used to this real quickly, Jules thought as her relaxed body slid deeper into the bubble filled tub. One hand reached between her legs. Feeling almost boneless, she slapped her free hand over the cold ceramic surface of the tub as the sensation slowly but surely took over her.
Jules appreciated Sam's thoughtfulness to stock scented bubble baths at his place. First stored in the bathroom's cabinet before being moved to the drawer in his bedroom because apparently Natalie thought every occupant in the apartment had free access to the fancy toiletries. Jules wondered if she should label her shampoo. She could have sworn there had been more inside the bottle yesterday.
Her head leaned back against the wall, eyes drooping closed. The opportunities didn't come often but she always enjoyed a good long soak in the tub. It was one of her guilty pleasures besides eating cold M&M while watching old movies from the 80s.
Her fingers curled of their own accord around the edge of the tub. She willed herself to remain still to better appreciate the building sensation. Hot white fire engulfed her body and she was very close. So very close…
"Jules?" The door creaked open and Natalie's smiling face popped in. "Hey, sorry, I just need to grab some emergency tampons."
"Nat! Do you mind?"Jules tried to sit up straighter, the leg that had been resting on the lip of the tub slipping into the water. The generous white froth provided her more than decent cover and for the moment it was… unwavering.
Nat had the decency to look guilty. Obviously she had boundary issues, and the most impeccable timing, ever. "I'll be gone before you know it. I'm already running late as it is. Please?"
Turning her down was futile seeing as Nat had already taken the liberty of assuming her stunned silence was a yes and put one foot inside the bathroom. Hopefully, she also took her flush as the result of the hot bath. "Fine, just hurry up, would 'ya? Be quick."
The bubbly blonde beamed gratefully. Frustrated, Jules watched Natalie rummaging through the cabinet with wary eyes. The curtain was only halfway pulled, and reaching for it wasn't even an option because she didn't want to attract more attention.
"Did Sam come home with you? I didn't hear him all morning and-"
"You said something about running late?" Jules bit back a gasp and bent her knees.
Nat stuffed a couple of the feminine packages into her purse and flashed Jules a quick pearly smile. "Got them! Tell Sam I'll be home late since it's the weekend and all."
Unsure she could say anything, Jules simply made a gesture with her hand.
She could hear the echo of Nat's high heels as she trotted down the hallway. A sudden hard nip made her moan and with more effort than she was sure she had in her, Jules grasped a handful of Sam's hair and pulled him up. "You said you locked the door!"
Any other day she would take a moment to admire how adorable he looked, all wet with small dying bubbles sticking to his matted blond hair. Sam frowned, whipping his head back and forth - a sight that reminded her of a golden retriever puppy. "I did."
"Then your sister must be able to pick up a lock because she was just here 20 seconds ago."
Sam's eyes widened, the mouth that had been working magic on her for the last couple of minutes hanging open. The sheer terror on his face matched hers. Unlike hers, however, it only lasted for another ten seconds before he burst out laughing.
"It's not funny!" Jules splashed him. "She thought you weren't home, and you said you locked the goddamned door."
"I did," at her glare he shrugged. "Okay, I thought I did. I'm sorry, but-" he licked his lips, his amused grin turning to a smirk. "Good thing I can hold my breath underwater for 5 minutes, isn't it?"
Slippery hands wandered to the right places, eliciting an involuntary moan. "Don't brag, and the last time you did brag, it was 4 minutes and 27 seconds."
"Being ex-military has its own perks. Totally owned Ed's ass too, not sure he's happy about it."
"Imagine if Nat had gotten an eyeful of your ass. Scandalous."
That did the trick. "Sweetheart."
Jules pushed his head back down. "You've got three minutes, Soldier."
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.safest bed
Having served two tours in Afghanistan, his body sported his fair share of scars. The most memorable one being the white patch of dead tissue above his left knee where shrapnel from a rocket propelled grenade had struck him when two hundred Taliban insurgents invaded the base. Laying on the stretcher as he was carried to the chopper with bullets flying over his head, Sam had wondered if he would lose his limb.
Given the location, Jules and his former lovers were the only ones who were privy to it. Usually, most just didn't care that much to ask and he wasn't that generous to share. It was different with Jules, however. The morning after she had taken him to her bed for the first time, he woke up and found her sitting up next to him, lightly tracing his leg with the pad of her finger. She never said anything, and yet he found himself recounting the story to her anyway.
Maybe that's when he really felt she was unlike the other girls he had dated, or had he known from the moment she pointed her gun at him?
Sam knew Jules hated her scars. Scars that only served to remind him of both times he had almost lost her, permanently. The countless near-misses in between usually came with bruises, but bruises healed and faded to yellow and were gone in a couple of weeks.
He knew her dejected feelings stemmed more from a sense of failure than from superficial reasons. Though, she had joked a couple of times in passing how she was considering making an appointment with a plastic surgeon.
The left side of the bed, hers and his, had always been her sleeping spot. That was, until she got shot. He had relinquished his right side of the bed for her and what had started out as a good intention to mind her healing tender side had become a new routine. When her wound had healed, however, they went back to their old sleeping arrangement. One she had insisted on keeping especially after they made love because she didn't want him to see it.
She shied away from his eyes. Sometimes he wondered if she didn't want him to be reminded of his own failure to protect her. The wound was barely noticeable now and he had lost count of her constant reassurances that it hadn't been his fault. Problem was, Jules was considerate that way. She would rather lose an arm than put the blame on someone else's shoulders.
The three week old scar marring her arm was still an angry red streak. He knew that everytime she looked at it, she was transported back to the incident at the lab and how her attempts to connect with the subject had been fruitless -even though she had done everything that could be done and if he had to point someone as the bad guy, it would be the other female in the room.
Jules was also reminded about the probation, about Greg and the punitive military psychologist. Everything had turned out alright at the end, but he wouldn't be surprised if she still took it too much to heart. They were similar in that aspect, among other things.
Sam kissed her once more before slowly easing out of her. Unlike usual, he rolled them over and brought her to lay on top of him. He could see the question in her eyes even in the dim light of the bedroom.
He smiled. "Compromise."
Happy birthday, Jenn!