Eyes In
Disclaimer: Sam Braddock is mine.
The story was inspired by the title for the upcoming episode S05x04 - Eyes In. However, it has NO relation whatsoever to the episode. Minor spoilers until S05x03.
Thanks to my beta, Trish.
Jules fumbled with her necklace, contemplating whether she should or shouldn't do it. She could, that's for sure. However, after having spent so long trying to not even spare a minute glance toward the men's locker room for fear someone would take the simple gesture the wrong way, it's a battle.
Knuckles knocked on Winnie's desk impatiently. She had signed off along with Spike and Leah ten minutes earlier after throwing jokes about the double date Ed and Sophie were having with Greg and Marina this evening. Overall it had been a moderately good day. No major hot calls and nobody died. The peace had been kept for yet another day.
Taking a deep breath, Jules collected her purse and headed briskly to the men's locker room. The floor was nearly deserted aside from the janitor and his eyes were locked on last night's game recap on TV.
She didn't knock, but she did pop her head in first to canvas the area. Mind made up, Jules pushed the door wider and stepped in.
Since today had been a pretty easy day, one of Sam's friends from Guns and Gangs had asked him to run details about a previous drug bust gone wrong. She wasn't sure what he had ended up doing but he was covered in mud when he returned four hours later, looking more like a brunet than a blond.
The quiet inside the locker room made her ears ring, but as she went deeper inside, other noises started to fill in the silence. She stifled a giggle when the sound of Sam's husky singing voice came through the low buzzing of the central air conditioner and the sound of water spraying from a shower head.
Jules stopped in front of his open locker for a minute, fondly looking at the new picture of them he had put up. It was from the New Year's party at the Lane's. He was wearing a stupid glittery hat Ed had insisted everybody wear, and she was sitting in his lap sporting an equally ugly hat. Even from the picture it wasn't difficult to tell that Sam was slightly tipsy.
Her purse slid off her shoulder before landing with a soft thud on the floor. She padded quietly to the shower area, although with the water pounding down upon his head he probably couldn't hear anything.
The wall separating the shower and the entire locker room didn't go entirely all the way up. If she was a few inches taller she would have been able to get a good view of him - or at least from his shoulders up. She had spent countless hours in the locker room and gun cage, but this was the very first time in eight years with the SRU that she had ventured to the otherwise forbidden and taboo territory for female officers.
She reached the opening and carefully peeked her head in. A wide grin flitted across her lips when she spotted Sam under the second to last shower head. He reached forward and turned off the shower.
Jules didn't mean to stare, but quickly found her initial brilliant plan to surprise him - and hopefully make him scream like a girl as a result - going down the drain together with the dirt and debris. His hair had returned to its usual golden color, the darker roots looking more stark than usual matted down to his scalp. The slight tan he'd gotten throughout the summer hadn't completely disappeared, but the cerulean tiles made his skin appear more pale than usual.
Sam was kneading his shoulders, white froth dripping down the hard lines of his body until they puddled around his feet. His face was relaxed, his eyes shut. If only she wasn't so distracted following the trails the water and suds were creating, she would have found his still on-going passionate rendition of Chris Martin comical.
She knew he was a beautiful man, and it's not like he had anything she hadn't seen before, but there's something… exciting about watching him through a layer of steamy mist without him knowing.
The muscles of his arms flexed in sync with every movement, thick foam sliding from his chest to his toned abs and trickling down… farther. The smell of his body wash filled her senses and she fought a shudder. She always loved how he smelled - clean and crisp. Combined with his strong arms around her, it never failed to lull her to sleep.
Sam dragged his hands across his torso before lathering his way down, leaning over to get a better reach of his legs. She frowned at a new bruise on the side of his right calf, but concern quickly dissolved into a blur as her eyes crept up his thick thighs and tight backside. She swallowed hard. Oh my.
Then his rear clenched and she bit back a moan-
The door opened with a loud groan, soon followed by quick, heavy footsteps walking in. Jules jumped and chewed her lip hard to keep herself from making any sound. Full-on panic, she looked around for an escape plan. No joy. A solid wall was standing in front of her and the only way out was to retrace her steps back, which, seeing how the shadow that belonged to the third person was getting shorter as he approached the hallway, obviously wouldn't do, at all.
So she did the only thing she could think of.
She dashed into the shower, boots and coat and all. The movement was enough to grab Sam's attention. Natural instinct kicked in and he quickly took a fighting stance. As soon as he saw who was there with him though, his jaw practically dropped. His arms fell to his sides, mouth agape. He looked so stunned she didn't know whether she wanted to laugh or cry more.
"Sam, sorry, I forgot to give back your thumb drive," Spike's voice echoed across the room. "It had some nasty virus, but it's all clear now. Your files are intact."
Sam's blue eyes were still fixated on her, but he had regained enough composure to pick his jaw up off the floor. Jules put a finger over her mouth, signaling with her hand and her death glare that he'd better not say a word. Sam's face contorted with various emotions, then a loud snort escaped him.
"I put it in your locker, next to that broken Canucks magnet. Top shelf."
The scuff of shoes stopped and Jules pressed her back tighter to the wall. Spike's voice came from behind her, but still sounded far enough to tell he's probably standing at the end of the short hallway. She had never felt more grateful to be 5'2" than she did now.
"Still can't believe you have all those classic Batman, man! And here I thought I was supposed to be the geek."
Sam's eyes darted between her and behind her -Spike-, his lips still twitching with the desperate need to laugh. He looked to be almost in a physical pain. He inhaled, obviously practicing sniper breathing to keep himself in check. "Cool, man. No worries," he paused and looked at her, an impish glint in his eyes. "Did you, um, did you see Jules? Is she waiting outside?"
Oh, he has some nerve! Not exactly in any position to do anything, Jules simply gave him the middle finger.
"She was there when I left, but I didn't see her when I returned."
"Wonder where she is," Sam sniggered, quickly masking it with a cough before it exploded into a full-blown laughter. He pressed his lips together; the laugh lines around his eyes deepened along with his valiant effort not to give in to his desire.
"Maybe she's in the locker room," Spike suggested. "You okay in there, Sam?"
Jules closed eyes and massaged her temple. This was a nightmare. She would be the laughing stock of the team for a full year if Spike caught her there. Even if he didn't, Sam would never let her live this down. Ever. This would be his sole ammunition to get away from her smoothie, or use it as leverage against her when he wanted to get laid. Among other things.
"I bet she is."
"'Kay then, see you tomorrow." The footsteps resumed, walking away, until they stopped with a skid. "Oh yeah, couldn't help but see those pictures of you and Jules on the Cabot Trail. For a second I was worried I would see something I shouldn't, but thankfully you're not exhibitionists."
It wasn't even remotely funny, but it was an opportunity, and Sam released the bark of laughter he had been holding in. Jules pressed the palm of her hand to her eyes harder. Get lost, Spike, get lost. Shut up and get out.
"You sure you're okay, Sam?" Their friend sounded genuinely concerned.
"Yeah, yeah," Sam choked out. "Get out of here, Spike."
She waited with bated breath. She didn't care if Sam was naked and wet, she was torn between wanting to smack him or kick him first. Or maybe both, repeatedly and not necessarily in that order. Less lethal wasn't even an option at this point. She didn't say which parts of his body would be on the receiving end either.
Spike mumbled an unsure 'okay' and the door closed with a click. Sam's boisterous laughter nearly reached a crescendo, growing in intensity and volume if it's even possible. He was on the verge of popping a vein. She could feel her face grow redder. "Fuck you, Sam."
"Jules," he managed to gasp in between laughter. "I should be the one who feels violated."
Blushing to the roots of her hair, she pushed herself up and carefully walked to the exit - the last thing she wanted was to slip on the wet floor. "You're an ass."
Sam crossed the distance between them and wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her flush against him. "This ass happens to be the ass you secretly ogled."
"Sam," she almost whined. "You're wet!"
"That makes the two of us."
"Oh you-" The implication wasn't lost on her. Her struggle ceased and she looked for another alternative solution. A surge of satisfaction surged through her when Sam hissed in pain as the heel of her boot pressed deliciously over his right foot. "One more word and I swear I'll-"
The door opened again and they both froze in their spots. She twisted around and covered his mouth with her hand.
"Wait a minute," It was Spike. Again. "Isn't that Jules' bag?"
Wet!Sam!
