Blonde, Redhead & His Bitter Brunette
Fandom: Flashpoint
Pairing: Sam/Jules
Category: Unrequited romance
Rating: K
ONE-SHOT
Disclaimer:As much as I'd love to, I don't own Flashpoint, and all characters remain property of the show's wonderful scriptwriters. All original characters and plots are mine. No copyright infringement is intended.
Synopsis: It was so juvenile, and sometimes he hated himself for it, but he needed to do it. Sam's POV; companion piece to Blonde, Redhead & the Bitter Brunette. Spoilers for 2x14 "Coming to You Live"
Author's Note: I couldn't resist it; as soon as I'd written the other piece from Jules' POV I wanted to have a go in Sam's head. (Ok, who am I kidding – I'd planned it right from the very beginning). You can read this as one-shot on its own, but it's really more fun to read with Blonde, Redhead & the Bitter Brunette. Happy reading!
"Didn't know you had the stamina."
Sam heard the bitterness oozing from Jules' voice, even though she tried her best to keep it out of her face.
A small hope flickered, and inwardly he smiled to himself. Some sadistic part of him was happy – oh, very happy – that she still took more than a passing interest in his affairs, and that he still had the ability to make her jealous.
He liked knowing that he could still get a rise out of her. These days, it was all he lived for. After their breakup, she had retreated back into her shell, and she barely exchanged more than casual greetings with him. Anything she said, she'd used her professional Jules voice, and there definitely was none of the playful banter they used to engage in.
He thought it would be easy to get over her, easy to get back into their groove of just being colleagues, maybe even friends. But he should have known Jules, should've known himself. What happened between them, even though it had been fleeting, had impacted him far greater than he would ever care to imagine.
So he'd resorted to extreme measures to get her attention. He faked phone conversations with an invisible woman (or more than one, sometimes), but in reality it was mostly just him talking to his own voicemail, and he made up stories about his wild nights, when in truth most of it were spent with only a beer for company in his lonely apartment, imagining she was still walking around wearing nothing but his oversized jerseys.
It was so juvenile, and sometimes he hated himself for it, but he needed to do it. He just needed her. A reaction, a look… anything. Anything to bring down the invisible brick wall she'd erected between them.
The more he did it, the more she responded, and he shamelessly fed off it. In those few unguarded moments, he could pretend that all was alright between them again, and that he would no longer spend a lonely night with a bottle but wake up next to her in the morning again.
Bitterness seemed to be her only response, and he clung on to it, letting it represent the hope he felt that she regretted her decision to break up with him. Because he knew that Jules was used to getting whatever she wanted, and he knew that she tended to get bitter when she didn't get it. So he could only hope that her bitterness meant that she still wanted him, even if she wouldn't admit that to anyone, not even herself.
Because she was his bitter brunette. Always have been, and always will be.