Blonde, Redhead & the 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: Why did she keep doing this to herself? Spoilers for 2x14 "Coming to You Live"

Author's Note: A short little piece written during lunch hour to fuel my Jam shipper heart. I can't get this couple out of my head.

"Didn't know you had the stamina."

Jules couldn't keep the bitterness out of her voice as she uttered those words, stung by Sam's admission that his previous night hadn't been spent alone, as hers had.

Why did she keep doing this to herself? Torturing herself with news of his time alone, wanting to know who he spent the nights with, wanting to be a part of his life outside work?

She was the one who broke up with him, wasn't she?

So why did she still care? Why should she care? Sam was a big boy; he could take care of himself. She'd tried, in the past, to convince herself that her interest was purely professional. Can't have him nursing a broken heart from his one-night stand, cos it might affect his sniping abilities, she'd told herself.

But who was she kidding?

Her interest was not professional; it had never been. The only time she could recall having the most professional conversation with him was when she'd drawn a gun on him the first time they met.

All their subsequent conversations, even while at work, had been laced with a double meaning. Their every word, every exchange, although conducted under full view and in earshot of the entire team, had never been professional. There was always the underlying concern that went above and beyond what one teammate showed another.

And it was still there, months after they broke up. She couldn't deny that Sam's safety was always paramount on her mind whenever they responded to a hot call. Even if he didn't talk to her, even if all they said to each other were hi's and byes, the fact that he was unscathed and in one piece at the end of the day was good enough for her.

So why should it matter that she wasn't the one who held him in her arms as he processed the day, reflected on his actions, and just pondered the what if's? Why should it matter that she wasn't the one who warmed his bed, or that it wasn't her bed that he warmed? And why the hell should it matter whether the woman was blonde, brunette, redhead or all three?

She didn't care. Right?