Notes:

The version of this story is heavily edited and incomplete so as to comply with the terms of use. The unabridged version contains adult content and can be found on AO3 via the link in my profile.

"Lovers in a Dangerous Time" borrows its title from the name of an excellent song, and I took some inspiration from one particular lyric: "gotta kick at the darkness til' it bleeds daylight." This story is an exploration of Jules Callahan's unique way of kicking at the darkness. It takes place after 'Slow Burn' and assumes that although Sam and Jules spend almost every night together, they aren't living together full time.

Here's the usual disclaimer about how they're not mine, I'm just taking them out to play.

This story came about because I felt guilty for devouring each new chapter of Growing Up Too Fast by CTI_Jenn and Lemon Jam by CavalierQueen without contributing some of my own words to the fandom. This is my first time writing Flashpoint fic and I hope you like it.

It was dark, but Jules Callahan knew what she was looking for. She snaked her way through the packed club, the dull throb of the music setting her pace.

She'd seen better days. They'd defused the situation but not without bloodshed. Sam had been far enough away to keep his hands clean, but she'd ended her shift in the shower, scrubbing blood out of her hair. She worried that tonight would sleepless, filled with dreams of violence and chaos.

As the water ran clear, she made her decision. Post-shower, she'd dressed quickly in her civilian clothes and headed for home. She told Sam she was going to order Chinese food and watch "Breakfast at Tiffany's." Instead, she pulled a dark outfit from the back of her closet. In less than ten minutes she'd changed, finishing her preparation by pulling on a pair of boots and heading for the door.

As soon as she arrived at her destination, she made her way upstairs. An attractive redhead smiled at her, but he wasn't what she was looking for. She stood on the balcony, surveying the space, and waited. It wasn't long before she felt a body pressing against her back.

She remained still as a hand snaked around to caress her hip and a mouth pressed a kiss to the side of her neck.

"Same rules as always?" a voice murmured in her ear. She nodded before answering.

"Same rules."

"You're in control until you say otherwise. Roger that," came the reply as strong hands caressed her waist.

The front of her body was flush with the balcony, while her companion held her from behind. She felt a surge of energy flow through her as those hands roamed, one slipping under her shirt. She was braless under the thin button-down and the bare skin of her breasts strained against the fabric as her breathing quickened. The hands roamed further down her body, grasping at the hem of her skirt. It fluttered against her thighs and she hoped that they weren't giving the people down on the main level too much of a show.

"Someplace more private?" the voice in her ear hissed, reading her mind. She wasted no time finding a room near the back of the club, generously tipping the attendant in exchange for complete discretion. She was, after all, a police officer and she didn't want to chance a tape of her night's activities ending up in her boss's hands.

They stood at the foot of the wrought-iron bed for a moment, not touching. She knew the person in front of her was waiting for a signal, but she didn't rush, preferring instead to let herself anticipate what would happen next. Finally, after several long moments, she spoke.

"Scorpio," she said firmly, and the hands were on her once more, more insistent this time.

(A much longer, unabridged version of this story is available on AO3.)