Disclaimer: I don't own any characters or plot lines associated with Flashpoint. Just play with them.
A/N: Sorry for the delay, here's the long ago promised lighthearted fic. Hope you enjoy, it's been a long work in progress thanks to law school. Since my final memo has been turned in for the semester, writing for pleasure suddenly seemed like a viable option again. Reviews always appreciated!
WARNING: smut ahead, some language - if it offends you, I suggest reading something else. This is in the same universe as my other Flashpoint stories and you may see one or two references to events in "Starry Nights" but they're not at all required to make sense of this fic.
The first time he'd undressed her, he'd been sure it had to be a fluke, an aberration, absolutely anything but normal. After all, she was wearing that damn suit that had driven him to distraction all fucking day until he actually spoke without thinking in front of the boss. The black jacket, black pants hugging those hips, black shoes raising her a little taller than normal, and finally that silky black shirt making the skin of her neck look even paler and softer than usual. He'd spent the entire assignment stealing covert moments to watch her, imagining what might be under those clothes. Years later she would ask him what had come over him when he'd pulled her body close to his and kissed her on that sidewalk and he'd struggle to form an answer. Secretly he wondered if he hadn't known even then what he'd find under the suits and combat armor. If anything that night, he would have imagined that at most he'd find a sleek black bra and panties matching her exterior and that would have been more than enough to tip his control. But cradling her throat against his lips as he peeled her blouse over her shoulders what was revealed to his eyes sent him into the outer stratosphere. Blood red, crimson lace highlighted the flush of arousal covering her chest and neck and accented the pale creaminess of her skin. He'd practically torn her pants off to discover whether the bottoms would match the top. They had.
But he hadn't kid himself that this was a normal thing – after all, she'd been in civies that night and girls were notoriously weird about their undergarments. Likely they'd coordinate such things. Besides, it's not like it'd really be practical to rappel off of buildings and engage in hand to hand combat with crazed subjects wearing frilly underwear. Right? Wrong. The next morning, he'd watched her dress after their shared shower – something that had not saved as much time as originally anticipated – as she put on a matching set of purple underwear, the panties held together by a thick lace band around the hips studded sporadically with small, sparkling gems. She'd caught him, of course, and winked at him as she shimmied into her jeans before tugging another figure hugging shirt over her head. He had groaned into his own shirt as she sashayed out of her room.
For a long time he convinced himself that it was just something she put on in the mornings then changed when she got into uniform. Since she usually showered after a call before leaving the barn, it made sense in his male mind that she was wearing three or four different pairs of underwear a day. It made things easier in those months after she'd been shot and pushed him away, not having to imagine what she was wearing under all the tactical gear that somehow still managed to look feminine on her. That damn interview with Toth, though, had blown things wide open.
He'd asked about Jules, whether he'd have continued the relationship in secret if he could, and the only thing Sam could think about was the way he'd been the only one to know that under her tough exterior was a regular woman. One who kissed his chest every night before they fell asleep, wanted backrubs and bubble baths after a tough call, and had more brightly colored, lacy, and girly underwear than his incurably feminine sister. No way to lie his way out of that one. He was afraid that had been laid bare in his eyes when he spoke to her after. Things had been changing between them for weeks, ever since that night and the stars, and his stomach had a tight, expectant, hopeless feeling that he would have to live through her walking away from him a second time.
When she showed up at his door in that little blue dress she knew he loved, he wondered what was under it. When her lips collided with his, he almost breathed a prayer of thanks that he'd get to find out.
He'd had many moments in which he'd seriously contemplated calling scorpio on his baby sister, but he thought the moment she opened the door on his exploration of Jules' skin was the time he'd finally snap and do it. He was sure he'd never get a chance to find out once the call came in on Ed. They left the barn that night, though, exhausted after their trip to the hospital to see the baby, five minutes after being cleared to go home. He knew neither of them had enough time to take showers and that there was no way she would have put on clean underwear without a shower - one of her little quirks that he loved knowing. Standing in his apartment, staring into her eyes and wanting to cry in relief, a part of his mind acknowledged that he'd finally get to see what she wore under the uniform. She let him lead her into his bedroom then straight into the bathroom, her hands already slipping out of his to grasp the hem of his shirt and tugging it up over his head before pressing a single, long kiss to the center of his chest. A ragged sigh escaped him as he wound his arms around her waist and buried his face into her neck while her fingers soothed through his short hair. His fingers began tracing the lines of the tattoo on the small of her back from memory and she took it upon herself to go ahead and pull her pink top off.
The whoosh of air that escaped him made her giggle, a sound that he found absolutely irresistible, but he still couldn't tear his eyes away from the silky, black, flower-covered fabric covering his favorite breasts in the world. Wordlessly he began tugging her pants off, almost like their first time, desperate to see the other half. She indulged him, kicking her shoes off and stepping out of her jeans as he watched. The underwear looked like normal bikini style panties, brightened only by the large pink roses covering them – until she turned around to turn on his shower. The back was black lace… and only black lace. He could see every inch of her curves under that, the sheer material teasing him and he couldn't keep his hands off of her. She would later comment that it was the first time she'd ever seen him unwilling to get her out of her clothes.
After that night, Sam found himself fixated on the thought that every time they were on the range, running drills, even just cleaning out the gun lockers, she had something bright and sexy on under the uniform. In the mornings, she'd taunt him a little by giving him flashes of color and lace that would haunt him for the rest of the day. On the job he could focus and compartmentalize but as soon as the shift was over his mind shot straight to tearing off her clothes and burying himself inside her.
Lately, though, things had been getting out of hand. Really, it was all Natalie's fault. She had stopped by his apartment the last time he'd been laid up after a call with a minor sprain in his ankle. He'd taken a day off to rest up and ice it and get in a little quality time with his TV. Like any normal male he'd just wanted to find a good hockey game, crack open a beer, and relax for a while. His sister had taken it upon herself to come and bring him lunch, complaining that Jules always took up his free time and she never got to see him anymore. This didn't stop her from borrowing his credit card to pay for the takeout, he'd noticed.
Noticing his choice in programming, she had given him a "look" and speculated that he was going to become incapable of talking about anything other than sports, guns, and explosives soon. Something, she recounted with an air of superiority, women just did not find appealing. He'd brushed her off and told himself that it didn't matter what women found appealing, only Jules, and she liked all of those things just as much as he did.
After Nat left, though, he started thinking about her choice to date Steve, a guy who obviously had some very different ideas about romance and dating than he did. He'd guess that their dates usually didn't involve some kind of shooting competition – although there had been that whole hostage thing…Which is how he had ended up watching some kind of nature show on the theory that women liked cute, cuddly animals. If Wordy could watch chick flicks for his family, surely Sam could manage one animal program for Jules. Two hours later he was still glued to the screen in horrified fascination.
Although in the animal kingdom it is often the males who utilize bright pigmentation to attract their mates, the fascinating Red-necked Pharalope females are characterized by the bright red coloring that signifies them as ready for mating. Much as the size of a male lion's mane helps distinguish him as an alpha among his rivals and calls the attention of females, this delightful little shorebird's vibrant neck stands out ostentatiously against the duller coloring of the males, juveniles, and non-breeding females of the species…
The thought had been intriguing, but the lasting effects were proving more difficult to deal with. Suddenly, his normal thought process was being interrupted by commentary that sounded suspiciously like the documentary narrator.
One more than welcome evening off, he and Jules had made plans to grab some drinks with Spike and Nat now that they didn't have to keep their relationship a secret anymore. According to Jules, he needed to give his sister a break and try spending some more time with her. This might have been easier if Spike and Natalie didn't have some kind of weird thing going on that made Sam a little uncomfortable for reasons he'd rather not think about. They were going to be watching Raf play again, something that should keep things from getting too awkward, but he had still been lost in thought when his girlfriend held two different sets of underwear up for his opinion. His eyes darted between her towel-covered chest and her two hands, noticing she'd pulled out two of his favorites. Pretending he didn't realize she was trying to distract him from his concerns, he walked over and kissed her softly before grabbing her left hand which was holding a gorgeous teal and silver lace set before placing a gentle kiss on her wrist.
Just as she'd intended, walking into the bar that night the only place Sam's mind was fit to go was to the lace and silk hidden under his girlfriend's form fitting black jeans and slinky white top. Quickly he discovered that this might not be the safest time for it to be there, however. Although his mind was definitely not on the increasingly intimate body language between his sister and one of his best friends, it was also not able to easily keep up with the conversation.
"- and having to answer all those stupid getting to know you questions on first dates. I mean, really, how many relationships are based on something like, 'What's your favorite color?'" Natalie's exuberant voice asked.
"Teal," Sam replied absentmindedly, his eyes hovering somewhere around Jules' back.
There was a minor uproar as Spike very nearly spit out the mouthful of beer he had just taken when Sam declared teal to be his favorite color. Natalie's eyes flew open wide before she burst out laughing, most likely at both her brother and the man she was beginning to identify very un-brotherly feelings towards. Jules, meanwhile, turned what Sam considered to be a delightful shade of pink and looked anywhere but at their friends, hand covering her mouth in amusement and horror.
"Dude, did you just seriously say teal was your favorite color? What the hell kind of color is that even supposed to be?" Spike sputtered after managing to quiet his coughing with a more successful gulp of beer.
Sam knew whatever came out of his sister's mouth was going to be bad as soon as she got that mischievous glint in her eyes.
"I bet Jules could help explain to you what it is – maybe she could even show you…"
That's it, Sam determined, last time I ever let Nat and Jules go shopping together. His baby sister had no business knowing what it was he was taking off of his girlfriend at night. Lifetime ban on Victoria's Secret trips for them.
"I, well… I – um, it's sort of similar to that blue color I painted my living room, you know, but it has more green in it," Jules desperately improvised, shooting a barely concealed glare at Natalie.
Spike's eyes darted between the three of them and it was obvious his abnormally high intelligence wasn't impaired yet by alcohol or a lover's underwear choice – something for which Sam was equal parts relieved and dismayed.
"I'm missing something here, aren't I?" he asked suspiciously, long arm snaking across the back of Natalie's chair, obviously pegging her as the weakest link out of the three of them. Jules looked even more uncomfortable than she had a minute ago and Sam suddenly had a sinking feeling in his stomach. How often did the women talk without him there? And what kind of things did Jules feel comfortable telling his sister? He knew she didn't have very many female friends in her life and had honestly been glad that she was willing to hang out with his sister, allowing him to avoid the inevitable fights that started when he and Nat spent more than a few hours together.
"I have no idea what you're talking about," Natalie said coyly, batting her eyes flirtatiously at Spike. He leaned in close to her ear and she shivered slightly as she felt his hot breath against that sensitive skin. Sam could feel Jules' hand stroking the back of his neck and he leaned into her touch rather than focusing on the display his sister was putting on.
"Nice try, Nat," Spike chuckled, "but I know you're hiding something from me. Why don't you want to tell me what it is?"
"Actually," she smirked, "I'm not the one hiding something here…"
"Natalie," Sam growled warningly, this time causing Jules to shiver in response. He smugly acknowledged to himself how much she enjoyed it when he dropped his voice into lower registers.
The males of the species frequently employ vocalizations to indicate to the females their strength and virility…
"Sam," she teasingly shot back, enjoying making her usually unflappable older brother squirm. "It's a perfectly natural thing. You all know I've been taking some classes part time to try and finish my degree in psychology. Well, one of my classes is on Animal Behavior and in our discussion of mating strategies…"
Both men choked on their drinks.
"Oh come on, mating strategies says that most species employ visual triggers to signal an interest in mating," Natalie finished smugly.
"Natalie, are you saying what I think you're saying?" Spike asked slowly, his eyes darting speculatively towards Jules' chest.
"Hey!" Sam interjected, thumping his best friend in the shoulder a little harder than strictly necessary. "Seriously, sis, I don't want the guys I work with thinking about what's under my woman's clothes!"
A deathly hush fell over the table at his words and Jules slowly swiveled in her chair to level her eyes on his face.
Oh shit, he thought desperately, I said that out loud…
"Your woman?" she asked with a syrupy sweetness in her tone that let him know whatever came next was going to hurt.
"Come on, sweetheart, you know what I meant…" He was grasping at straws now.
"Hmmm, I'm not sure I do, dear. Why don't you enlighten me?"
"Ooh, how exciting!" Natalie chirped to Spike. "As an alpha male, Sam felt the need to assert his claim over Jules to you to warn you off of his mate. Unfortunately, as an alpha female, Jules has to assert her own strength and independence to make sure that the balance of dominance is preserved between them."
"Nat, not helping here!" Sam gasped out, warily waiting for the explosion from his volatile "mate."
"Oh, I think it was very helpful," Jules said silkily. "So, you'd say that what's needed here is for us to reestablish our dominance in the relationship?"
"Yes, that would be the evolutionary thing to do," his sister giggled. Spike's eyes were wide and a little frightened at what might be happening in front of him any minute now.
Jules caught his eyes and sized him up, a challenge brewing in them.
"Hand to hand combat. First person to be put down loses. No shoes, no gloves, no hits to the face."
He raised an eyebrow to her, before nodding and biting out, "Done."
Damn it all, hand to hand with Jules was one of the biggest bundles of contradictions he'd ever had to deal with. On one hand, it was always fun to stretch his muscles, especially with someone who knew his preferred combinations so well that he was constantly on his toes and improvising to keep the upper hand. On the other, he hated the possibility he might hurt her. He wanted to go all out but the back of his mind kept insisting that this was the woman he loved. And she would kill him if he pulled his punches. No matter who he was fighting, Sam Braddock hated losing. But God, she was so sexy when she got all deadly and focused like that.
They had been getting up to leave when Raf stopped by the table during his break. Sam had felt a twinge of conscience when the younger man's face fell slightly to see them disappearing so early in the night.
"You're leaving already?" he asked.
"Man, it's a Braddock-Callaghan throw down! You just missed Jules coming this close to ripping Sam to pieces!" Spike's voice was far too excited for Sam's liking and his inner-narrator was getting worked up again.
The female praying-mantis habitually beheads her mate once his usefulness in reproduction has been fulfilled…
"This is going to be epic! Even better than the Great Popsicle Shootout of Doom," Raf crowed, almost bouncing in his excitement.
"Whoa whoa whoa," Sam started, his hands raising to fend off their over eager friends. "You people are not tagging along here."
"What? Of course we are! You need a panel of judges to make sure this is official," Spike reasoned hopefully.
"Hmm, I don't think that's going to be necessary," Natalie broke in, her eyebrow twitching with amusement and a little more knowledge than Sam really wanted to see on his baby sister's face. "They can probably handle this one on their own."
Jules flashed her a small smile and Sam smothered a groan at the fact that his sister obviously knew exactly what he was going to be doing tonight – after he'd let his girlfriend try and kick his ass.
"And thank you, Natalie," Jules broke in smoothly, "we'll be off to the action portion of the evening. Full reports for everyone about my win on Monday."
And so, much grumbling and posturing later, he let his eyes catalogue her movements as she lay down the grappling mats in the sun porch that had been converted into their gym. Before they started this, he wanted to know how much her earlier drinks were affecting her. And maybe he was checking out her ass a little bit. Ok, he was mostly just checking out her ass. He was a man, after all, and had drunk just enough that the idea of getting his hands on his girlfriend – for any reason – was really appealing to him.
She turned and the way her eyes lingered on his throat and chest let him know that she was in a similar position. They simultaneously began slipping their shoes off, eyes locked together in heated challenge. Circling each other slowly, both hesitated to make the first move, not wanting to be the one to set the intensity level of the fight. Finally, Jules threw a light punch, easily blocked but setting the fight in motion. Hits and kicks flew through the air from both parties with deft blocks in return. A few landed, but without overwhelming force behind them it was clear that one of them would need to up their game if they wanted to end up in bed tonight – and Sam definitely wanted to end up in bed tonight. Preferably naked. Preferably not alone.
As his fighting became fiercer, his moves more determined, Jules started to feel some slight desperation. She knew she was capable of taking him but there was a good chance at least one of them would be feeling it in the morning if she went all out. If she wanted to win – and she always wanted to win – she'd need to hurry up before he got the upper hand.
Which is when Sam's world went straight to hell. He had just managed to swing her into a lose chokehold when he felt her small hand slip between their bodies and wrap around his dick. She moved her hand across his length, her grip loose enough to create just the right amount of friction to keep him on edge without getting him off. His arms loosened involuntarily and a small moan escaped his lips as his eyes began to flutter closed. Suddenly, he was lying on the ground on his back, girlfriend hovering over him wearing a victorious grin.
The alpha female demands her mate acknowledge her own strength in the partnership…
"That was fighting dirty," he bit out, uncomfortably aware of her weight and heat near a specific portion of his anatomy.
"Hmm, maybe, but you liked it," she gloated, pink tongue darting out to trace her bottom lip.
His pale eyes were almost eliminated by the darkness of his pupils, expanded to abnormal size in response to the low light and heightened arousal. In contrast, the light blue rings appeared even more startlingly defined when locked onto her nearly black orbs. Jules had a split second flutter of instinctual warning before her weight was leveraged against her and she was solidly pinned to the mat.
"Hey! I won that fair – check the rules again, Tarzan, I didn't land a face hit," she pouted, slightly put out but also at least a little bit aroused. Sam could hear the minute hitch in her breathing as she felt his weight settle over her.
"True, you did win," he conceded, nuzzling his jaw against the delicate slop of her collarbone. Moments like this he realized how incredibly fragile she was compared to him. In her element, she was dangerous and deadly and often underestimated by her opponents. Still, his larger bone frame and muscle mass could easily snap her slender bones. A study in contradictions inciting both pride in her strength and a deeper, more primal need to protect his own.
"Then why am I on my back?" she half-snarled, thighs wrapping around his waist in preparation for slipping them to their original positions.
Before she could complete the maneuver, however, Sam executed one of his own. Catching her wrists in one of his large hands, the other gripped her thigh as he rolled them. In the moment in which he was again under her, he leveraged her weight across her hips and flipped her so that her back nestled against his front before completing his roll and trapping her on her stomach, weight braced upon her forearms beneath him.
"There you go, baby, not on your back anymore," he smirked. "That better for you?"
Jules came very close to growling as she ground out through clenched teeth, "You know what I meant, asshole, I won the 'dominance challenge' so what the hell are you doing on top? This should be my ride!"
"Well, sweetheart, I'll grant you won the challenge for who's higher ranked in public. But I decided that might threaten my dominance in private. It's a balance, I'm told – hate to have you thinking I'm not strong enough for you," he murmured low in his ear, dropping the range of his voice as he ground his hips against her ass.
"You arrogant son of a - !"
"Nuh-uh, I don't think so. If I'm submitting to you in public, I think we should have some quid pro quo at home." He lowered his voice even further, leaning in so his lips grazed the shell of her ear as he spoke. "Tell me right now you don't want this, baby, and we stop. Tell me you don't want to feel my strength over yours, caging you and protecting you. Tell me you don't want to feel me pounding into you, reminding you who you come home to at night. Tell me you don't want to know what it feels like to be with your equal in every way, in and out of bed. Tell me you don't want me cumming so deep inside you that you can never forget you're mine, that you don't want to mark me back so no other woman will ever feel this again. Tell me, Jules, or I'm making you scream my name until you're hoarse."
She wanted to hate his power play, the words coming out of his mouth, but she couldn't hide the way she trembled under him. This man would and did defer to her professionally and personally in a million matters both big and small. He was her equal and she was his, something that neither of them ever doubted. Somehow that freed a part of her that had never been willing to give over complete control to a lover before. This gentle and passionate man with the strength and bearing of a predator…
"Take me," she whispered, tilting her head to expose her neck to his questing mouth.
He groaned into her skin, teeth raking across the smooth muscles covering her shoulder as he alternately nipped and pressed kisses to every inch he could reach. She didn't try to escape as he slowly divested her of clothing, freeing her from the confining fabric before replacing it with the blanket of his body over hers. His touch was gentle but firm and she shivered at the loss of warmth in the seconds it took him to slip perfunctorily out of his own clothes, a direct contradiction to the care he'd taken with hers. When he returned to her, his bare skin slid silkily against her own and she shuddered with pleasure.
His touches were exquisite torture against her most sensitive areas until she was ready to sob if he didn't give her more. Suddenly, his fingers entered her roughly, making her gasp as he pressed her shoulders to the mat to deepen the angle. Bringing her to the edge, he suddenly withdraw and began placing feathery kisses up and down her neck.
"Sam, please… I need…"
Jules hated how weak her voice sounded, but it was well worth the reward. Her words trailed off as she felt her lover line himself up and turned into a surprisingly loud moan as he thrust inside.
Their coupling was hard and possessive and loud, a claiming and an offering and had its own primal beauty. When she shattered apart beneath him triggering his own climax, Sam swore he could feel her heartbeat along with his own. And thankfully, she didn't seem to notice his mouth clamping tight against the delicate skin of her throat. He would swear on everything holy that the feeling had not given him a strange feeling of satisfaction.
Collapsing into a sweaty tangle of limbs, the pair exchanged satisfied smiles.
"You know, I think teal really might be my favorite color," he sighed sleepily into her ear. Her gentle laughter swelled over him as she twisted around to press her lips over his heart and run her fingers through his hair.
"Mated pairs will often engage in grooming behavior to symbolize their care and commitment towards their partner and demonstrate an ability to nurture offspring…"
Oh, what the hell – maybe the scientists had a point after all. He didn't care as long as life kept progressing as it had been. The mating colors had definitely worked – and Sam was pretty sure he was the kind of animal that mated for life.