Hi! I'm back! Well, I've been really busy (as usual) and I'm happy to be back on Fanfiction! Dance has finally begun to wind down for the year, leaving only recital, picture day and one more competition before summer break. I'm still in the process of recovering from my torn ligament, so unfortunately I've had to quite riding. Oh well. Dance comes first. Anyway, here is my new story, which will probably end up being about 3 chapters long, and it might turn into something mature, in case all you Jam shippers were wondering. :)
I don't own Flashpoint, and I never will... although my birthday is coming very VERY soon!
Fallenstar08, this is for you! ;)
The digital numbers on the microwave clock changed from 7:29 to 7:30 as a very tired and disgruntled Julianna Callaghan flew out the front door, house key gripped firmly in one hand, bagel in the other.
She woke at 7 o'clock that morning to a rowdy song playing on Virgin Radio, realizing that she had slept in a full hour past her alarm. With no time to shower, she pulled her greasy brown hair into a ponytail, slopped heaps of peanut butter and raspberry jam onto a toasted bagel, and was out the door in a flash.
Jules raced down to her car to find that she had left her purse, which contained her car keys, in the house.
"Shit! Shit! Shit!" she muttered, resting her bagel on the roof of her jeep and rushing back to the house, nearly kicking the door open. "Greg's gonna freaking kill me."
When all was settled, Jules drove hastily through the city, taking monstrous bites of her bagel as she went. Just as she was nearing the station, her Blackberry vibrated erratically, nearly sliding off the dash. Jules leaned forward, almost positive that it was Greg calling to give her crap for being late, but to her surprise, the name on the screen read Jesse Moretti.
Oh, piss off, Jules thought as she pulled into the parking lot of HQ, envisioning her boyfriend sitting at the phone waiting for her to answer, like he did almost three times a day. Of all the things she hated, needy men were probably near the top of her list, somewhere around slasher movies and asparagus. Jules knew that Jesse was much more into the relationship than she was, and it pained her to think that he knew that just as well as she did.
They had met just over a month ago at a club on Queen Street after a tough day at work. Jules was searching for answers at the bottom of a bottle, and Jesse was just a friendly guy in need of some company. They had agreed to meet again following a few hours of small talk, which was more or less listening to Jesse babble about organic products versus genetically modified ones and sort. He was a nice guy, somewhat socially awkward, but he was pretty cute. He had short brown hair, twinkling green eyes, and a smile that could get any girl's heart pumping faster, plus a well-paying, steady job. Though, Jules could not come to see herself as becoming Julianna Moretti.
Jules slid her phone into the back pocket of her jeans and slid out of her Jeep into the humid, mid-may day. Winnie sat at her desk at the front of HQ, humming some jingle from the radio as Jules came dashing in.
"Oh hi, Jules!" Winnie greeted enthusiastically. "You're early today!"
Jules spun around, not knowing if she heard the curly-haired dispatcher correctly. "Pardon?"
"I said you were early," Winnie repeated, seeming confused with Jules' stress. "You didn't have to come in 'till ten today. Didn't Sam call you?"
Winnie looked up at Jules in all her red-faced glory. "You have got to be kidding me!" Jules fumed, replaying her hectic morning over and over in her head.
She turned towards her locking room, walking away briskly as Winnie attempted to speak to her, not that she was listening.
Fuck you, Braddock.
When 10 o'clock finally rolled around, the entirety of Team One sat around the briefing room table, debating on the plans for the day. Work out, target practice, etcetera, as long as there were no calls. For the whole time, Jules sat across from Sam, glaring at him intensely and not paying any attention whatsoever to what her sergeant was saying.
"What's your deal?" Sam asked, taking a break from his bench press to look at Jules, who hadn't spoken to him all day.
Jules turned her head to Sam, then looked away and proceeded to take a drink of water. Sliding off the bench, Sam took a hold on Jules' arm and pulled her out of the workout room, a half-dozen pairs of eyes following them as they went.
Outside, Jules crossed her arms over her chest, waiting for Sam to go on with his little speech. "What do you want?" she asked bitterly.
Sam looked taken aback. "I want to know what your problem is with me. I want to know what I did to make you so offended."
"Nothing."
"Why is it that since– you know– since we broke up, you've been acting so strange towards me. It's weird." He continued, Jules just shrugging, making him more frustrated. "I miss us being friends! F-R-I-E-N-D-S" he spelled out, as if speaking to a child who was just learning their alphabet. "You know? "
Jules sighed, a deep, dramatic sigh, before finally speaking to the blond officer for the first time that day. "It's just the way you look at me," she began. "It's like I owe you something, or like I'm some kind of food. You have to stop, Sam. I'm not your girlfriend anymore… I have… a boyfriend" the word made her cringe. "You have to stop fantasizing! You can't keep undressing me in your head for the rest of your life. That's all I have to say," she finished, turning away from Sam.
He grabbed her arm, but she just pulled away aggressively. "Jules! Wait!" he called to her as she began to walk away.
Jules paused for a moment. "I'm sorry, Sam," she whispered, almost remorsefully, leaving Sam alone in the hall.
"Jules, I–"
Winnie's voice rang out across the building. "Team One, gear up! Hot call!"
People started hustling around Sam, as he stood still as a statue, still grasping the fact that once again, he was too late.
TBC :)
Love it? Hate it? Let me know!
