Us, Not Me Anymore

Disclaimer: Hmmm.

Thanks to Tinkerpanda for beta'ing this for me. And thanks for Shawn30 (my dear friend from other fandom who has to endure my long Flashpoint rant) for the title suggestion. Just in case you haven't figured this out already, I suck with titles and summaries.

Post Slow Burn.

"I think I'm falling asleep," Jules murmured, leaning against him. She was pressed so close to him that the scent of her floral shampoo overpowered the scented water –Cherry Blossom, her favorite. "You probably will need to carry me out because I'm boneless."

Sam chuckled and rested his chin on top of her head. They were here less than a week ago, in Jules' polished bathroom; white walls and cerulean granite tiles with geometry patterns, minus the candles and soft music. After finally being discharged from the hospital, there had been an unspoken agreement to head to her house instead of his apartment. Needless to say, he had tagged along. It had been too close a call and the last thing he wanted was a fussy, overwhelming sister when he just wanted to be alone with Jules, taking care of her.

48 hour had passed when he found her standing in front of him, teeth gnawing at her lips as a trademark nervous habit. After all this time and after everything they had gone through, he would have thought that she would have gotten more comfortable asking him for help. It was a little disconcerting.

"You do realize that if I wasn't wounded, I would have already pulled you in?" Jules asked delicately, hand reaching out to tug at the front of his damp black shirt. He had rolled his sleeves up - a useless effort by the look of it- and his jeans were now plastered to his legs, heavy with water.

"You do realize that if you weren't hurt you wouldn't have gotten into the tub alone?"

So now Jules had almost recovered fully and thus she was not alone in the tub. She had rolled her eyes when he walked into the bedroom with plastic wrap and tape and told him that as long as he behaved, everything would be fine. It couldn't be comfortable, one arm dangling over the edge of the tub like that, but she seemed content.

He would undoubtedly smell like lilac and vanilla once they were finished. If Spike dared enough to crack a joke or two about matching shampoo, Sam would kindly remind him about the advantages of having a girlfriend, one of them being sharing toiletries, a luxury their fellow teammate and friend didn't have. It was kind of childish, but he had been holding back for four years.

Four fucking years.

He deserved this. They deserved this, and more.

"We should get one of these in our house later, preferably larger." Jules sounded sleepy, short legs rubbing his longer limbs. Her head lolled to the crook of his neck. He didn't know whether she realized what she had just said, but he opted not to pursuit it further.

Now he just wanted to bask himself in the present, and the fact that they were allowed to remain on Team One. The fact that Jules was just as committed and invested as himself in this relationship this time around. The fact that they were in love with each other and nothing could change that; not an old flame, teammates, sergeants, protocols. Nothing.

"Definitely bigger, bigger is nice." Sam agreed. Granted, the tight space wasn't that comfortable and slightly claustrophobic, but it was certainly cozy. Jules' petite form fitted his arms perfectly like a two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. Even when she put on her killer heels, the kind he imagined would leave her feet screaming in pain, the crown of her head barely grazed his chin.

She hated it, he loved it.

The bubbles were slowly fading, but there were enough of them still to cover them both. Jules lifted one perfect leg, resting her foot on the edge of the tub and he tried to ignore the feeling it invoked. It was a sight for sore eyes, how the soap suds slowly trickling down her slender leg to her thigh before dissolving into the water.

Behave, Samtastic, behave.

"So, what exactly did your father say?"

When she talked again, she sounded as clear and lucid as she always was in the morning, the drowsiness moments ago was already a fantasy. He was never a morning person and he couldn't fathom how anybody could be so lively and brisk bright and early in the morning. It should be against the law.

"Jules…" Did it really matter now? It had been a great day and he didn't want to spoil it by rehearsing the phone call with the General.

Dying bubbles scattering four ways when she sat up straighter and shifted to look at him. Loose strands of hair moistly clung to the sides of her elegant neck, the crest of her breasts barely hidden by undulating foam. Any other day, it was a silent invitation he wouldn't ever dream of passing.

"My mom asked when she'll get to meet you." It was a lie. Her mother had blatantly told him that she wasn't getting any younger and asked him when he would give her grandkids. It's definitely Natalie's fault. The innocent question had her fingerprints all over it. Sam hadn't even known that Nat and their mom were on talking terms.

Jules splashed him, a frown marring her forehead, clearly displeased. The bathroom was too poorly lit for him to see her blush, but he was pretty certain that she was flushing a shade of pink, just like when he'd caught her cooing over Izzy this afternoon.

"Sam."

And just like that, he succumbed. Sometimes he was worried that if one day they had a huge fight and she told him to jump off the bridge, he would, simply because she'd told him to. "What do you want to know, Jules?"

She licked her lips and he recalled her facial expression earlier today when he told her that his father had called.

"Where exactly is overseas?"

His old man never called, never made an effort to bridge the broken relationship between them. Except for traditional birthday calls, they had always left each other alone, and it was an agreement that Sam could live with.

"Afghanistan," he shifted. He was getting pretty numb and if it wasn't for Jules he would have already vacated the tub a long time ago. His body slid down further and he leaned his head back against the cold, hard surface of the tub, knees bending to accommodate her. The once too hot water had cooled quite a bit.

"My father probably wanted to send me away from Canada because he had had enough of me. First with the JTF2 and now with Team One. I gave him a bad name," Sam knew his father well enough to be aware that the seemingly generous offer didn't have anything to do with his desire to have a decent relationship with Jules. He had broken the rules and had brought shame into the family. As simple as that.

"I may sound ungrateful, but I'm tired, Jules. It feels like he's pulling my strings, like I'm no more than a stupid, useless marionette." Almost all his life he had been taught to follow the General's orders. What had started out as a habit had transformed into a way of life. It might have changed when he decided to join the army, but then he had messed up again and his father had to step in and fix it for him- his personal band-aid.

Jules bit her lips again, using her left hand to grasp his, slippery hands intertwining together. Her thumb was drawing blank patterns on the back of his hand and for a full minute she was quiet. He reckoned she was thinking what he had been thinking after the phone call. That they could be together, but they had to physically part. He could openly declare his love for her, but he had to do it by phone.

"Would you take it? If things were different?"

Sam smiled wanly. Coming back to Afghanistan would revive some old nightmares that had been lurking, waiting for the perfect time to reemerge, but he knew how much the team meant for her. If things had been different, he might have taken up the offer. For her. "Maybe."

Jules shook her head stubbornly, the grip on his hand tightening considerably. She looked worried, frantic, even. "You know that as much as I love being on Team One, it wouldn't be the same without you around, don't you?"

Putting his hands on her shoulders, he gently turned her around and settled her close against his chest once again. He buried his nose into a pile of rich brown hair, inhaling deeply. "I do, Jules, I do."

"Good."

Jules gripped his corded arm around her waist and tilted her head back rather awkwardly, favoring him with a radiant smile. "You're not going anywhere. Nobody's going anywhere. Everything will be alright now."

Sure, they would have to talk about their future some time soon.

Soon, like after he proposed to her.

Sam laid a kiss on her temple, letting his lips linger for a few more seconds before pressing his face against the side of her neck.

Soon.

I MISS FLASHPOINT SO BADLY.

:(