A/N: Based off of "Need You Now" by Lady Antebellum. Text in italics are flashbacks. Takes place right after Never Let You Down. Also, thumbs up if you can spot the X-Files reference. ;) (sorry, I really couldn't help myself.)

Disclaimer: I do not own Flashpoint or any of its characters.


Picture Perfect Memories
By The Sneezing Panda

When Jules Callaghan awoke, her bedroom was still bathed in darkness. She noted it was still pitch-black outside when she turned to look out her window. Sighing, she sank back down and buried her face in her pillow, then peeked at her alarm clock; it read one o'clock in the morning.

She had been extremely tired when she returned to her empty home. The shift had been long and tough—tough emotionally. Greg had put her in charge of the negotiation, and it had scared the hell out of her. She had truly thought it was the end when the subject, along with his hostage, stumbled over the edge of the cliff, but Team One grabbed them immediately.

It had triggered memories about Lewis Young, their fallen colleague. Hot tears had stung her eyes and her voice had wavered as she tried to talk him down.

She was angry with herself for crying and angry with the world for taking her friend away and angry at the bomb which had ended his life and just angry.

Jules had arrived home not long after nine o'clock; she had debriefed and changed at the Strategic Response Unit's headquarters. She had changed into thin pyjama pants and a tank top before crawling into bed, closing her eyes and snuggling the sheets. She had not fallen asleep right away; on the contrary, it had taken her quite awhile to fall into a deep slumber. It had been bliss, it had been a break, but now she was awake and hurting and lonely.

What she really wanted was comfort, and she wanted it from Sam Braddock.

Another fifteen minutes passed before Jules sighed and opened her eyes, blinking as they adjusted to the dark. She lifted the covers off of her body and swung her legs over the edge of her bed.

Running her fingers through her slightly tangled hair, she padded across the floor and down the stairs. When she finally reached the kitchen, she flicked the light on and found a bottle of red wine. Jules poured herself a small glass and took both the glass and the bottle with her to the living room, placing the bottle on the coffee table before settling onto the couch.

She hugged her knees against her chest and relaxed into the cushions, taking a sip of the wine. When she realized she had not turned on any lights in the living room, she reached out for the lamp beside the couch; it provided low light. She took another sip.

Jules looked at the phone perched on its charger; it was settled beside the lamp. She regarded it for a moment before taking it into her hand, letting her thumb run over the buttons. She bit her lip and frowned, weighing her options.

She thought back to a time when she could have called Sam Braddock at any hour of the night and he would have come running to her, without argument.


"Dinner is served," Sam announced triumphantly with a plate full of hamburgers and a six pack of beer. Jules looked up from her book and smiled at his smug look. He plopped himself down next to her on the floor in front of her couch, careful not to tip the plate.

Jules grabbed a hamburger from the conglomeration of patties and lifted the top bun.

"What, no tomatoes?" she remarked with disdain. Sam rolled his eyes.

"Nothing I do will ever be good enough for you," he replied, moving to get up. A minute later, he reappeared with a plate full of tomato slices, lettuce, and onions he had forgotten about.

"I don't know, this is pretty good," Jules commented, drawing a grin from Sam. After loading her hamburger with vegetables, she brought it up to her lips but stopped suddenly and frowned.

"What is it?" Sam enquired as he placed lettuce on his burger. He glanced at Jules, who had a very serious expression on her face.

"You forgot the mustard."

"Shut up and eat your dinner, Callaghan," Sam ordered. Jules chuckled and got to her feet, placing her plate down on the floor.

"Well I can't without my mustard," she mumbled on her way to the kitchen.

Jules returned to a messy Sam who seemed to be wiping tomato off of his shirt. Jules shook her head and sat down next to him, her shoulder touching his.

"I swear, you're like a five year old," she remarked as she took the tissue from his hand and wiped a spot he had missed.

"I bet you didn't think that last night," Sam grumbled into his hamburger, which was barely heard by Jules but she didn't bother asking him to repeat it. She was too absorbed in the art of adding just the right amount of mustard onto her burger.

"Thanks for cooking, Sam. I guess you're not that useless after all," she teased lightheartedly, evoking an eye-roll from the man. Jules beamed and kissed his cheek, letting her head rest against his shoulder as she kept his gaze. Sam raised an eyebrow.

"You call that a kiss?" he lightly chastised and had nothing left to complain about after she straddled his lap.


Jules took another drink from her glass and stretched her legs out on the couch, her back leaning against the armrest. She tapped the phone and stared at it, pursing her lips.

She was aware of how late it was—and that was just one of the reasons stopping her from making the call. Her and Sam had barely spoken since she broke up with him that evening in the café. It was hard to believe they had once been so close, that they used to be each others best friend and confidant. Jules let out a shaky breath.

She had made a promise to herself that she would not come running back to him; they had jobs to keep and civilians to save. But it was hard, and the temptation was overwhelming. She craved his touch, his soothing embrace, his warm words of comfort. Beneath that arrogant rookie exterior was a deep man who wasn't given as much credit as he deserved.

Jules did love that exterior, however. She smiled at the memories of Sam joking away, content with life and relaxed. He liked to live in the moment, and he made those moments special.


"Special delivery," Sam greeted her, holding a large, fresh pizza, after she opened the door. Jules stepped aside to let him in before closing it and following him to the couch.

"An SRU sniper and a delivery boy. You, Braddock, are a man of many talents," Jules commented with a grin on her face. Sam smiled and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, kissing her temple.

"I've been told I'm quite the catch," he replied, releasing her when they reached the couch.

Sam splayed himself out on her couch and opened the pizza box, sighing as he was met with the delicious smell of pepperoni and cheese. He reached for a slice, but his hand was smacked away. He looked up to catch a disapproving look from Jules.

"Last time you ate pizza without a plate on the couch, I had to scrub sauce and cheese off of the cushions," she chastised, handing him a plate, "Now move over."

"So demanding," Sam huffed as he kicked his legs off of her seat. Jules brought her knees up to her chest and helped herself to a slice, leaning into Sam's side.

After a short moment, Jules asked, "Did you bring beer?"

Sam paused mid-bite and raised an eyebrow. "What, I have to do everything?" he joked lightly, to which Jules responded with a halfhearted glare. He couldn't decipher if she was annoyed with his smart-ass remark or the lack of beer at her disposal or annoyed with him for not bringing her said beer to be at her disposal. Jules leaned forward to place her plate on the coffee table before making her way to the kitchen for drinks.

"Do you have any Pepsi?" Sam asked loudly after hearing the refrigerator door open. Jules shut the door and walked into his line of sight, her hands on her hips.

"Braddock, you know very well this is a Coca Cola household," Jules chastised somewhat seriously and went back to the kitchen. Sam put his plate down next to hers and followed Jules to browse the selection of beverages.

"You're lucky you're so cute, because that could have been a deal-breaker," Sam countered, looking past her shoulder. Jules reached down to grab a bottle of Coca Cola and a bottle of Iced Tea.

"And here I thought you liked me for my rapier wit and excellent marksmanship," she replied as she found two glasses in a cupboard.

"Actually, it was your ass that interested me."

Jules grinned and bent down to put the bottles away. She turned to face him and asked, "All those times you said 'ladies first'—it was to check my ass out?"

Sam chuckled and grabbed their glasses. "I guess the truth is out there," he affirmed. "Surprised?"

"Nah, I knew you weren't that much of a gentleman."


Jules set the phone down on the table along with the glass of wine after taking a drink. She lifted her feet off the couch and sat up. She placed her elbows on her knees and her face in her hands.

Sighing, she ran her fingers through her hair and covered her mouth with a hand, staring forward at nothing in particular. The officer stood up; she needed something to do.

Thus, she began to pace. She meandered over to the fireplace and gazed upon the pictures on the mantle: pictures of her family, her friends, places she had seen, and the team. Bitterly, she noted how there weren't any photos of her and Sam—as far as the world knew, they had never been together.

She set her jaw and shuffled into the kitchen, squinting a little at the bright light that had been left on. She let her eyes adjust to her surroundings and she glanced at the clock on the stove; there were about fifteen minutes until two. Jules could have let out a frustrated growl. She was tired, but her mind wouldn't shut up.

Everything in her house reminded her of her failed relationship: the couch which they had often hung out on, the kitchen where they had cooked, the phone which they had spoken on, and the drinks—the drinks which were still in her refrigerator.

She opened the door to the refrigerator and found a two-litre bottle of Pepsi she had once bought for Sam. She had never drank any herself; she had bought it simply to make Sam happy. And it had.

Half of the contents were still in the bottle, and she scowled at them. Closing the door, Jules walked over to the sink, opened the bottle, and poured the pop down the drain. She watched it hit the bottom of the sink, then turned the tap on to let the water rinse out the pesky liquid that had stayed. She shut the tap off and determinedly walked out the kitchen, through her living room, and into the garage where a recycling container was waiting for her.

Pleased, she returned to her spot on the sofa and took her glass in her hand and took a sip. Perhaps that was the end of that.

Of course, her mind still wouldn't stay quiet.


"Ready?" Jules asked, bending down to grasp one end of the coffee table. Sam nodded, and the two officers picked the table up and moved it against the wall. Jules walked back to the newly opened space and puts her hands on her hips.

"You understand the rules?" Jules queried, then clarified, "First one on their back with their shoulders pinned to the floor loses."

"That should be an easy win for me," Sam teased, winking at his girlfriend. Jules narrowed her eyes at him and decided she was going to kick his ass.

Sam simply chuckled and stepped in closer, extending his hand. Jules accepted it and shook it. With her hand still clasped in his, Sam said, "Let's do this."

Jules nodded and let her hand fall to her side. She bent her knees slightly in a defensive move and brought her arms in front of her; Sam mirrored her position. It was Sam who made the first move.

He lunged forward, intent on hooking his arm around her knees and sweeping her off her feet; Jules, however, caught the move in time and jumped back, collapsing on her knees. Swiftly, she swung her leg around and tripped him, causing him to fall forward.

Jules quickly hooked her arm underneath one of his and attempted to flip him onto his back. Sam managed to trap said arm in between his and his side; he rose up, then fell back down with her beneath him. Jules let out a squeak and braced herself—no way she was going down.

He knew he had one of her shoulders trapped, but she was making it difficult to pin the other one down, as well. Sam kept a tight hold on the arm he had and moved his legs so they were planted on either side of her hips; he switched hands so that his right one was engulfing her wrist.

Jules struggled to stay up, clenching her teeth. She saw Sam move for her other arm, but, after having a wicked idea, distracted him by bucking her hips up. Jules smirked when he groaned.

"Jules," he grunted, his eyes darkening, "That's not fair."

"Come on, Braddock, we went over the rules," Jules countered before sitting up as best she could, hooking her free arm around the back of his neck, and pulling him in for a kiss.

As soon as she felt him slack off on his hold on her arm, she pried it free and used them to scoot back and she could wriggle out from beneath him. Sam looked bewildered for a moment, so she brought her hands down to the hem of her tank top and pulled it up and over her head, leaving her in just her black sports bra. Jules was hoping it would trick him into believing he was getting some—and it worked.

She flung her shirt across the room and moved forward; Sam sat down and grabbed her hips as she straddled him. He pulled her flush against his chest and slid a hand into her hair as she kissed him. Jules cupped his cheeks, then drew them down to his shoulders, pressing lightly to get him to lie down.

Sam complied, but kept his hand against the back of her head to not break the kiss. In her head, Jules began to count, but started to lose track after the fourth second when he slid his hand down her side and into her shorts. Jules gasped and pulled her mouth away from his. She kissed his jaw, his neck, then moved her lips just below his ear; Sam moaned.

Eight, nine, she counted silently, and at the tenth second, pulled away from his neck. Jules looked him in the eyes and grinned triumphantly. Sam took his hand out of her shorts and gripped her waist as he regarded her curiously.

"I win," she announced with pride. Sam's expression changed from confusion to mild annoyance as he glared at her. Smiling, she brought her mouth down beside his ear and asked in a low voice, "What's my prize?"

Sam shook his head and replied, "Cheaters don't get prizes."

Jules pouted and drew her fingers across his chest and to his stomach.

"Not even if they're cute?" she wondered, biting her bottom lip. Sam's brows furrowed as he thought for a moment.

He had her pinned down under him in one swift move—she had not seen it coming. Jules looked at him with wide eyes, her lips parted slightly. Sam bent down and gave her a sloppy kiss; she giggled.

"All right," Sam agreed, then added, "But only 'cause I like you so much."

He hooked his fingers in the waistband of her shorts and panties; Jules lifted her hips, allowing him to slide them down and off her legs. Jules let her fingers run through his short, blonde hair and gasped as he brought his lips down—


Jules shook her head and downed the rest of her wine. She stared at the phone, which was still planted in its charger, but decided against it after a few moments.

She lifted herself off of the couch and turned the lamp off on the way to the kitchen. When she reached the sink, Jules set the glass down in it and flicked off her light, engulfing the house in darkness yet again. She accepted Sam wasn't always going to be there for her.

Quietly, she walked up the stairs, her hand sliding on the railing as she climbed up. Jules entered her bedroom and crawled into her bed, which was now cold due to the fact she had been gone for a while. She pulled the covers up to her chin and closed her eyes.

Maybe it was a good thing her mind wouldn't shut up about Sam Braddock, she decided. The memories would always be there to comfort her even when he wasn't.