ONE SIMPLE TOUCH
Fandom: Flashpoint
Pairing: Sam/Jules
Category: Friendship/Comfort
Rating: K
ONE-SHOT
Disclaimer: As much as I'd love to, I don't own Flashpoint, and all characters remain property of the show's wonderful scriptwriters. All original characters and plots are mine. No copyright infringement is intended.
Synopsis: He had grated on her nerves and said all the wrong things, but over time, her perceptive eyes had seen more than just his steely, tough-guy exterior. Spoilers for 1x06 "Attention Shoppers"
Author's Note: Watching re-runs is always fun, because you see things that you never saw before. So this is me, going back on the early Jam moments and reliving it all.
His fingers graze her skin lightly, skimming the bruises gently, and his soft breath was on her neck as he attempted to make light of the situation.
To Jules, those few seconds represented something more – there was more that he said in his touch than in his words.
She felt his concern, his worry and his relief in that simple, yet poignantly tender caress, and it made her want to cry.
She hadn't particularly cared for Constable Braddock in the beginning; something about his cocky post-army attitude had rubbed her the wrong way. She was Julianna Callaghan, and she took no shit from anyone, and most definitely not from a chauvistic colleague who sometimes hovered on the brink of being sexist.
He had grated on her nerves and said all the wrong things, but over time, her perceptive eyes had seen more than just his steely, tough-guy exterior. Underneath the hardened war veteran, Jules saw a lost man struggling for acceptance and answers.
And she also learnt that Sam Braddock was not comfortable with openly sharing his concern for others, for her. He hid his insecurities and his fears under his sarcasm, deflecting the tough questions with lame jokes and terrible humor.
But it was in his actions that his intentions were always exposed, and now, Jules was learning that he couldn't hide it in his touch either. His knuckles brushing over her sensitive skin told her all she needed to know about him, seasoned soldier and all.
She was touched that he had been worried; comforted that he cared enough to worry, and elated that he obviously cared. She'd shot him down once, telling him in no uncertain terms that the team was her family, her life, and there was no way she would ever give them up. That was before, and now she felt herself wavering.
All it had taken was one simple touch.