A/N: Somewhat of a filler chapter... My apologies, still writing though so hopefully chapter 3 will be ready soon and will have some actual juice to it.
A cut and dried 'did what they had to do' day for team one, ending in a shot from Raf. He had only been acting as a lookout on the off chance the subject attempted to make a run for it, and ultimately had to take the shot to protect the hostage. It wasn't his first lethal but the team could tell he wasn't doing so hot. Ed and Sam took it on themselves once again to look after him. The three headed out to see if they could catch the end of the game at the nearest sports bar, while Jules, Spike, and Greg headed to their respective vehicles.
Dying to know what had gone on in the conference room that morning, but, not wanting to draw suspicion Jules managed to wait until she got home to text Sam to see if he was still planning on coming over. Not wanting to be 'that girl' and wait by the phone all night for his response she left her phone in the living room and went to the kitchen to find some dinner. She scoured her cupboards and freezer, then decided she would channel Sam Braddock for the night and just order herself a pizza. He'd razz her for days if he knew she did that - Jules was more interested in cooking than ordering in, and had commented on Sam's lack of culinary abilities before. But tonight she didn't care what he thought - it had been a long ass day and all she wanted to do was sit on her couch and absorb grease. She had recently realized she actually did miss him when he wasn't there, even just for the small things. After devouring far too much pizza for her own good she found herself cold and alone, and resorted to bringing the duvet off her bed downstairs to the couch. She glanced at her phone, only to find no reply from Sam. Not yet wanting to sleep she flipped through channels until she found an old eighties movie to watch. She'd seen it many times before, mostly in bits and pieces at a time, and still had no idea what it was called. Didn't matter though, there was something comforting about the awful hair and tacky clothes. Once again she wouldn't finish the movie - she felt it coming on but couldn't fight it, and no maybe text from Sam was going to stop it. Jules Callaghan was asleep on the couch.
Sam took Ed up on a ride home, and it was then that he realized he had missed a text. He read it discretely in the car and waited until he reached his building's elevator to reply. He figured a phone call might go over better than a text at this point, and found Jules' number in contacts. No answer, phone rang until it went to voicemail. He left a quick message blaming Ed for keeping him out past his bedtime and said he'd make it up to her tomorrow. Truthfully he didn't blame Ed at all. Quite frankly he was glad he didn't have to see Jules tonight. He knew she'd be pestering him for answers on the morning's meeting and he wasn't ready to have that conversation, least of all with her. He needed the night to himself, to think, to sleep without icy feet attacking him in the wee hours of the morning.
Jules awoke to the sound of her own snoring, a fact that she would never admit to Sam since she had previously denied his claims that she snored like a boat. Sam she thought and looked at the time. 4:30. Time to get up for work. Guess he didn't come over after all she thought, picking up her phone. She checked the message and deleted it immediately - not because it bothered her, but because she had gotten used to hiding and that included doing things like deleting voicemails and texts ASAP in case someone thought it would be fun to play with her phone (Ed had never been too shy to answer calls for her, calling himself 'Edward, Jules' personal assistant').
The next three days were a mess. One call after another, each lasting an irritatingly long time. For some reason all the bad crap was going down all at the same time, leaving the members of Team One minimal sleep time after shift before they were called in again. Desperate for sleep each time Jules still hadn't had the chance to ask Sam what was going on. He was glad for that - glad that in between hellish nightmares of work days he could sleep in her bed in peace without her pleading with him to let her in on the details. It wasn't a bedtime conversation he justified.
