"Moments In Between"
Timeline: takes place between "Backwards Day" and "Between Heartbeats"
Rating: T
Disclaimer: Flashpoint and Ice Road Truckers do not belong to me.
Summary: It's the small things, the short exchanges and the smiles, which sometimes become the most cherished moments. As a couple, Sam and Jules created their own pocket of existence, one full of everyday moments with spectacular personal meaning. Two Jam one-shots, one theme: cherished moments of peace.
A/N: This summer I watched all of Flashpoint in about two weeks. I wanted to write a Flashpoint fic, but it took me forever to find the inspiration. Watching "Attention Shoppers" for the second time, for some reason the line "You can drag the heaviest guy, you can save everybody on your team" stuck with me and morphed into this. Many thanks to my beta, Tinkerpanda! Please read and review!
Chapter 1: Beacons of Happiness
Jules Callaghan's house, 5:45 AM Wednesday morning.
*Beep* *Beep* *Beep* *Beep*
At 5:45 AM sharp Jules's alarm went off.
'Ignore-it-ignore-it-ignore-it. Ugh, early shift today. Can't I just go back to sleep? It's been such a long week…'
*Beep* *Be-
Peace was restored once more when Sam reached over her to turn off the alarm and started to swing out of bed. Peeling her eyes open with a sigh, Jules felt and then saw his azure ones staring at her as he sat, one leg in and one leg out of bed. She turned her head away in protest and closed her eyes once again.
"Good morning, Jules," Sam greeted tenderly.
"Nnnggh" she groaned in reply.
"There's no snooze set, so you can't go back to sleep. Time to get up!"
She heard the bedclothes rustling, which could only mean that he got out of bed. 'That's right; get up, make breakfast…' she thought to herself when suddenly the covers were pulled back off the bed. The cocoon of warm sheets that she and Sam had made the previous night was instantly gone, her body subjected to a burst of cold air. Another groan, more pitiful this time.
She heard Sam chuckle lightly as he flipped on the light. 'Bastard.' After a moment of silence, Jules gave in to wakefulness, turned over and propped herself up on her elbows. Sam stood at the end of the bed, smiling down at her. She could never fathom how he was always managed to be so awake in the morning. Military training, maybe?
"Up, beautiful, you've gotta get up," he urged, gently shaking one bare leg, newly uncovered and goose bumpy. With a sigh Jules sat up and moved slowly out of bed, mumbling a "Good morning" as she stretched.
"How does eggs, toast and orange juice for breakfast sound?"
Jules turned toward him, managing to cock an brow at him despite her sleepy eyes. "Tired of my protein shakes, eh?" The responding shrug, along with the bed-mussed hair, was cute enough for her to notice even at this ungodly hour.
"Just for variety."
After another wide stretch of the arms, she smiled sleepily and responded, "Okay, I'll be out of the shower soon."
Jules turned toward the bathroom and dragged her feet across the carpet. Sam's light ass-slap as she passed by him was unexpected; she knew he was smirking as he headed toward the kitchen. As she reached the bathroom door, Jules allowed herself a grin, noticing how much more awake she suddenly was.
SRU Headquarters, briefing room, 7:30 AM Wednesday morning.
The team chatted as they waited casually around the briefing room table for Sarge to arrive with the list of the morning's training drills. Wordy and Shelley had apparently taken the girls out to dinner the night before, a rare affair.
"The drive home just knocked all three of them out, they were so tired. It's amazing how kids can fall asleep in cars."
Ed agreed: "When he was two, Sophie and I used to have to drive Clark around the neighborhood for half an hour before he would calm down for the night. Worked every time."
Wordy nodded, then continued: "They were all asleep in their car seats, even Claire. When we got home, we had to carry all three of them to bed."
"We?" Lewis wondered aloud, thinking that nine-year old Claire, though slight, was still heavy for Shelley to carry.
"Well, I carried, and Shelley directed," Wordy clarified with a laugh. "Like carrying sacks of potatoes: Dead. Weight. They're so peaceful when they are asleep like that. Not a one of them woke up or even stirred until morning."
"Man, I wish I could sleep that heavily," Sam chimed in.
"On long car trips, I still fall asleep," Spike offered. "I was like your kids, Wordy; I'd go into a deep sleep on the way home and had to be carried inside. Even during the day, sometimes. It would have taken, well… a bomb to wake me up." Lewis rolled his eyes at Spike, smiling at the unintentional joke. "I think they actually left me in the car once or twice when I was a teenager, because I would wake up a little while after the motion stopped."
"I'm definitely the opposite, Spike," Jules replied. "Whenever my dad tried to carry me to my room I jolted awake and freaked out because I didn't know where I was. Very disorienting." She paused, "I think it had something to do with my brothers and surprise attacks. I'm still a super light sleeper."
Something had evidently caught Sam's attention, even as the guys nodded and continued the conversation. Jules suddenly found him staring at her with a look on his face of half disbelief, half wonder. There was something in his eyes – a comment not meant for the team's ears – that she picked up on even as it passed a second later. She made a mental note to ask him about it when they were alone.
The night before. Jules Callaghan's house, 9PM Tuesday night.
Sam and Jules were watching TV on her couch, having cleaned up after dinner and wanting to unwind before bed. They had a early shift tomorrow morning and were both tired from that day's hostage situation. The tallest nearby building had been under construction, and it took multiple stairwell climbs to find suitable Sierra positions.
Jules flipped through the channels and settled on Ice Road Truckers, which was fine with Sam. Low key; he was up for a low key evening. Lounging back in the couch, they settled in, and Jules snuggled up against him. He smiled down at her as she nestled into his shoulder. She used his left hand to wrap an arm around her, interlacing their fingers. When the guys joked about him not having an active love life, he sometimes had the urge to divulge his secret – that would sure shut them up. But then he'd have to confess personal knowledge of Jules's secret softie side; he wanted to keep those moments all to himself. There was also the fact that Jules would seriously injure him.
Toward the end of the episode he felt her head slip slightly. Glancing down at her he saw that she was fast asleep. And not in a very comfortable looking position, either. He yawned, looked between the illuminated screen and Jules' sleeping face, and turned off the TV. Moving carefully, so that her head didn't fall, he knelt down on the carpet and scooped her up in his arms. As he straightened up, he shifted her weight so that her head was still resting against his left shoulder. Not a murmur from Jules; his heart swelled with pride at being the one to take care of her, the one to carry her to bed. It was almost painful, the loving ache he felt. For a moment he wondered if he should wake her and tell her how he felt while the emotion was so clear and strong. No, let her sleep…
Padding softly into the bedroom, he leaned down to lay her on the far side of the bed up near the pillow. After she made contact with the covers, he pulled his arms out from underneath her shoulders and knees, taking care to move slowly and also trying to memorize how she looked in this moment, so small and serene. Even after an evening of intimacy, she rarely let her guard down so completely. At this new type of movement she stirred, cinching together her eyebrows as she moved her head around as if searching for something, but her eyes were closed. When he pulled the sheets up over them and climbed into bed, her head turned toward the sound, eyes still closed, a small sigh escaped her lips.
"Sam…" she whispered, eyes never opening.
"I'm here, sweetheart, shh…"
At the sound of his voice, Jules' face became peaceful, and she put her head back down on the pillow. As he shifted, settling against her back so that his body curved to fit hers, he felt her completely relax. It wasn't often that she fell asleep before him. His head resting behind hers, the warmth from her body like a beacon of happiness, he smiled to himself in relaxed bliss before joining her in slumber.
The task that finally found Jules and Sam alone together that morning was cleaning the rifles in the equipment lockers. Sam was already halfway through checking the first gun when Jules sidled up next to him casually, careful to maintain a professional distance. She smiled to him in greeting, pulling out the next gun in line and starting her work.
"So… you want to tell me what that look was about, earlier?" Jules asked, flirting to cover up her sudden nervousness.
Their eyes met, and some of that same sweet smile from this morning showed on his face. She loved that smile; it was contagious. Plus, she felt special whenever she saw it - in conjunction with that particular twinkle in his eyes which she saw now, it was a look that she'd never seen him give to anyone save herself, when they were alone.
"You said you always woke up when your dad carried to your room," Sam said. The smile widened and his voice became softer, "That wasn't my experience last night when I carried you to bed."
The funny squirming in her stomach his words caused was accompanied by the panicked thought, "we shouldn't be talking about this here" – she was sure it passed through her eyes, too, before she was able to squash it. She looked down, embarrassed for a moment. She exhaled, as if to let the panic go: they were alone, and she cherished her moments alone with this soft, kind Sam.
"I wondered how I'd gotten in bed," she cocked her head up and smiled at him.
When the shuffle of shoes headed their way two seconds later forced them break eye contact, it was as if they both released a breath they didn't know they were holding: that piece of precious happiness. Concentrating once again on cleaning the weapons, they didn't speak of it any more.
Half a minute later, Sam looked at Jules from under his lashes as he put away a newly re-cleaned rifle. His wistful sigh was almost inaudible as he brought his focus back fully on his work.
Professional. We are Professional.