A/N: In my attempts to write another chapter to 'Changes' I've had nothing but ideas for short Jam one shots... evidently I'm no procrastinating my procrastination tool... anyway...
Contains spoilers for most episodes with Jam moments. Oh, and I spilled Jam all over the keyboard on this one, somewhat sappy Jam at that, so perhaps non-Jammers should just close their browser windows right now. Seriously, nothing police-y in this bit, just Jam. Just shut the damn thing now.
To his credit, he did have to follow Spike, the demolitions expert with a sense of humour who instantly bonded with each and every member of their team, and he likely deserved a break for that. It was never in her nature to extend him such a courtesy, and so she never did. Never went easy on him, never gave him a break because he was new. They had a tough job to do, and she expected perfection. A trait he took his time exhibiting.
She sat down at the antiqued vanity, examining her reflection in the mirror. How did she get here?
He had been the worst rookie ever.
Cocky. Arrogant. A real brute. Infuriating. Irritating. Nauseating with his inability to shut his mouth.
And yet every time he spoke, she hoped it was to her. Every time she had the chance to show him up, she would, in hopes that it would lead to some kind of witty smack talk between the two of them.
Because talking to him, bickering with him, was often the highlight of her day.
She pulled at a few loose strands of hair and began to run them through the curling iron, carefully placing pins where they needed to be.
Somewhere along the line, she supposed, he had dragged her into his trap. Somewhere in him she must have sensed a soul, because suddenly she was granting him chances left, right, and centre. She'd caved to his invitation to dinner, repeating 'just a burrito' to herself the entire time. She still hated burritos, still thought it a miracle that she had made it through that dinner without gagging.
Then it had been her turn to ask. She'd asked him to coffee, which lead to them spending the night sitting in the back of her jeep, chatting about everything from where he grew up to how she ended up on Team One.
After a tough day he had even let himself into her locker room unannounced, and felt the need to assess the brilliantly coloured bruise developing on her back with not just his eyes but his fingers.
Then that cocky bastard had had the audacity to kiss her, on the street out front of the Royal York no less. Then she was done for. She jumped, not fell but jumped, straight into a world of sneaking around with him, enjoying his company as her secret boyfriend, enjoying their stealthy affair more than she wanted to admit.
She glanced at her cell phone, checking the time. It was crawling by, a fact that left her confused as she didn't know if it was a good thing or not.
Somewhere along the line it had fallen apart. She got shot, was given an ultimatum, and made a choice. In spite of all the hours he spent visiting her in the hospital, walking with her around and around those damn halls, never once letting up on her choice of footwear, she made the choice.
She chose the job over him.
It wasn't easy for him to hear, she could see that. And, although she tried hard to hide it, it wasn't easy for her to say. She remembered how hard she cried the nights leading up to her dumping him, and how much harder she cried after she finally pulled the plug on them, a fitting metaphor considering how much of their time had been spent around hospitals.
She anxiously drummed her fingers on the vanity, wondering where to begin.
The months after she had pulled the plug and effectively destroyed them were nothing short of awkward. They avoided each other as much as they could considering how much time their job required them to spend together. They danced around the subject of their lives outside of work, with faux friendly small talk filling the place of awkward 'goodnights' and 'see you laters'.
Adjusting her position on the small stool she dug through her makeup case, before pulling out some eyeshadow she had never really used before. She'd bought it on a whim, but it never seemed 'her' enough to wear. Now seemed like as good a time as any to give it a try. She brushed it on, then, on a second thought, wiped it off. It didn't work. It wasn't her. It wasn't a good time to be making herself look like someone, something, she's not.
Then there was Toth. In some sick twist of fate she supposed one could argue he was responsible for this, though she'd never allow such a thing. She still detested the way he had stepped in and shook up their lives like he did, even if the vast majority of what had come of his evaluation was, ultimately, for the better.
It had been just the provocation they had needed to drop the act and start having actual conversations again. It was also what lead her to his door. She never could have predicted that this would be where things would have ended up after that day. Perhaps she dreamt it once, but never believed it could be.
Not like this.
She gently pushed her bangs to the side as she finished applying a more neutral shade of eyeshadow and paused to take in her current appearance. She looked at her eyes in the mirror, her nose, her mouth. She looked at her ears, fitted with the earrings Nat had suggested she wear today. Her gaze drifted downwards to her arm, where a once painful shrapnel wound had changed into a scar. She knew it would fade, but it would certainly never disappear. Unlike most of her scars, she hoped it wouldn't. It held the memories of a far better day than the average person might have perceived it to be.
That day had kickstarted a new sort of life. Suddenly there was no more secret boyfriend, no more stealthy affair. They were public knowledge. Free. Everything was shifting. Somehow it excited her more than the adrenaline of the stealthy affair ever had. She loved that she could suddenly smile, be happy, and not have to lie about why.
The team had made a routine of going to see Raf sing, and they were finally able to arrive together, sit together, leave together. Sam had even developed a habit of lazily slinging an arm around her, not in a protective way like she had felt other guys had tried to before, but in a sweet way.
She pulled out her mascara, double checked the label. On Sophie's advice she had made sure it was waterproof, though she didn't see why. She was a strong woman, she wasn't going to cry. Not over this, not in front of all those people.
Finally came the day that everything shifted once again. The day that had subsequently led to this day. Funny how things work like that.
She finished applying her lipstick. Last was the remainder of her jewellery. She put on the necklace he had gotten her their first valentine's day together, careful to make sure it was centred with the clasp in the back. Next she turned her attention to her left hand. She took a deep breath, and removed the ring. She held it between her fingers for a moment, thinking how odd it was that her finger suddenly felt so bare.
"Ready Jules?" Greg's voice interrupted her thoughts, causing her eyes to flash up from the ring to meet his gaze through the mirror.
"Yeah Boss," she replied, slipping the ring onto her other hand for the time being as she stood and turned to face him.
Greg paused. "You look beautiful, Jules." He saw her smile, and smiled back as he heard music begin on the other side of the door. "I think thats our cue. You ready for this?"
She grinned. "So ready."