Wait, what?


Disclaimer: Hmmm.

Spoiler for S05x04. When I watched the episode and saw that scene at the bridge I totally cracked up. I didn't really think about it much until I talked to Trish, however, and her post ep story inspired me more to do this piece. Thanks to her too for the beta :)


The guys were huddling around Winnie's desk, waiting for Greg and the two females of the team to finish getting ready. Tonight was Shelley's birthday dinner, and she insisted all of them come. It was a no-brainer for the team- it was tradition. One they wouldn't break just because Wordy wasn't working with them anymore. That, and free food!

Ed's throaty chuckles grabbed their attention. Spike thought he was laughing at something on the TV, but the news was reporting the famine in Kenya, which wasn't even remotely close to a laughing matter.

"What?" He asked, already smiling even though he didn't know what was really happening. Ed's smiles were contagious.

Ed shook his head, grinning. "Nothing. Just thinking about that call yesterday. When we're at the bridge."

Sam snickered and stopped flipping through Spike's food and wine magazine. He knew what Ed was hinting at, but for the sake of his well-being decided not to say anything so they couldn't hold anything against him should the situation escalate.

"Yesterday, when we're at the bridge…" Spike trailed off, eyes shining with excitement, cheeks dimpling.

"Jules standing on that box…" Ed filled in. "It was adorable."

"Ed," In spite of the warning tone, a wide smile split Sam's face.

As if someone had finally turned on the lightbulb, Spike instantly broke into peals of laughter. The hand that wasn't busy clapping Ed on the back was slapping against the desk. "Oh yeah! Little Jules standing on that box!"

"She would seriously injure you if she heard you." Sam looked amused, either from the idea of his girlfriend using a stool to support her lack of height or the imagery of the petite woman decking their team leader who weighed twice as much as her. Or both.

"Just sayin'," Ed shrugged. "Now, I never said a word about this in front of her, so if I suddenly went MIA Soph would know it's either one of you who ratted me out."

Spike rubbed his hands together, still giddy with mirth. "I don't think I'll ever get tired seeing it. Jules' box-"

"Gentlemen."

Ed cleared his throat. Sam smiled nervously. Spike gulped.

"Jules! Didn't see you there."

Ed coughed hard at the implication behind the words. It was probably unintentional, but given the situation…

Jules narrowed her eyes suspiciously, arms crossed over her chest. "Sounds like you guys were having fun. Something about a box?"

Ed looked at Sam, whose toothpaste commercial smile had faltered a bit, and ended up locking eyes with the bomb techie guy. Something about his wide brown eyes and the horror in them reminded him of Izzy's new favorite word that Sophie was not too entirely pleased about.

"Nothing. We're just talking about how much Spike loved his juice boxes."

"Wait, what-" Spike's forehead creased for a millisecond before he snapped his fingers. "Yep. Capri Sun. Minute Maid. Kool Aid Jammers. Wish they would make them bigger. You can't get too old for juice boxes. The best. As awesome as vinyl gym bags."

"Most definitely." Sam gave a thumbs up before burying his face behind the magazine once again. Ed clasped Sam's shoulder tightly to stop them from shaking with suppressed laughter.

Jules didn't even look half convinced, dark eyes staring at them and sizing them up. Ed wished Spike would wipe the cheeky smile off of his face; his mouth was… twitching, from anxiety. Parker didn't make Jules the second negotiator for her non-existent profiler skills.

To their relief, she seemed to accept the answer - for now. Probably because she didn't have enough evidence to bust them with. Knowing her, Ed felt bad for Sam, but that wasn't his problems.

Soon, Leah emerged from the locker room, and the talk swiftly changed to how it took Sarge the longest time to get ready - he's having too much fun with your curling iron, Jules! Spike piped.

All three men shared a glance, relieved they were still standing on their feet and not laying on the floor. They knew they were all thinking of the same thing:

Situation contained.