Disclaimer: I don't own anything! Takes place before Eagle Two.

The first time, you're full of shame and confusion. The second time you feel stupid. The third, fourth, and fifth? They start to trap you in an endless cycle. And by the time you've reach the fiftieth, you hate yourself, and there's no way out but the sweet release of death.


The first time it happened, she had actually thrown him out – physically. It had been one of their bigger fights – maybe the biggest. Thinking back, she can't quite remember how it started, but it ended up becoming an all out screaming match. They got in each other's faces and maybe there was some shoving – from her or from him, she isn't sure. Then suddenly the side of her face lit on fire. It had taken her only one second to register the slap that she had missed coming, although it felt like an eternity before she had grabbed his shoulder and shoved him out the door. He had been frozen in horror, gasping strange sobs as he stumbled out. Only after she had locked the door did she let her hand hesitantly travel up to cup the stinging area of skin. She leaned against the door, breathing hard, pushing back tears that threatened to fall.

Part of her screamed that she should have noticed his fist and blocked him – she was a trained SRU Agent! The other part of her was wallowing in horror. She heard him at the door, sobbing apologies, and whirled round to scream. Finally he left and she forced herself to survey the damage in the mirror. The left side of her face was a brilliant red, but she was pretty sure it wouldn't bruise. She really hoped it wouldn't bruise.

Its okay, Jules, she told herself, taking deep, steadying breaths, no need to spread your shame to the world. Just never talk to him again. She was still shaking, as she went into the kitchen to grab some ice, in hopes that her face would return to normal by the next morning.


Review - no flames please! Should I continue?