Author's Note: Hey everyone! Special thanks to everyone who's been reading, reviewing, and all that jazz this story so far. I always love to read your thoughts. Papa Callaghan has arrived! In the next couple of chapters you should make a drinking game out of whenever Jules says "Dad," as a warning (usually in relation to his abuse of Sam). It might be tricky, so just try it with apple juice first.

I don't own or have rights to Flashpoint, Bushmills Whiskey, Snidely Whiplash, or Guinness.

Defying Precedent

Chapter 4: Not THAT Talk, But The Talk

It was a little after 5 pm, and Jules found herself pacing slightly in the arrivals area waiting for her father to move past the secure area of the airport and come to baggage claim.

She didn't normally pace, ever. She was not a pacer. She was a cool, calm, confident sniper, negotiator, and profiler. All of her various tasks in the SRU entailed two main aspects: staying still and keeping her head. With the exclusion of the few months she had spent suffering from PTSD symptoms, she had never had a real problem with maintaining this personal order. Leave it to the arrival of her strong-willed, sometimes domineering father to completely through her off her game.

She forced herself to stop, stand still, and keep any of the fidgeting she had found herself non-consciously doing to a minimum. She could do this. And really, this whole thing was no big deal. She knew she was just psyching herself out, seeing problems where potentially none existed. It was just the uncertainty of it all that threw her.

She'd seen on the arrivals board that her father's plane had arrived about 10 minutes ago. She breathed in a deep, steadying breath as she thought about how she would see her dad for the first time in nearly 10 years…

Looking up at a crowd of people walking towards the flights' baggage claim terminal, she sighed. She saw several people stop even before they attempted to pick-up their luggage to find their loved ones, smile brighter than the stars in the night's sky, and hug them as if they'd just arrived home from a trip to the moon. She so desperately wished she could have had that easy, familiar, not awkward reunion with her father, but she really wasn't going to hold her breath on that count.

She frowned and lifted onto her tip-toes to see over the heads of the last couple of people in the crowed from Ciaran Callaghan's flight. Hummph, she thought with a furrowed brow, still no sign of him. She shrugged, figuring maybe he'd stopped to use the washroom on his way out. That or he stopped at an airport bar for a shot of Bushmills Whiskey to steel his nerves. Damn, she wished she'd thought of that…

"Need'n to get your eyes checked, darl'n?" she heard that old voice from her childhood and young adulthood question.

Turning to her left, she caught her first sight of her father in so many years. She was surprised to see that he'd aged a bit; his hair had transformed from just having a light dusting to being nearly completely grey, his familiar beard was changing from the salt and pepper shade she'd remember to a snowy white, and there were more distinguishing lines on his face. But when he smiled down at her, his hazel eyes still held that Emerald Isle twinkle, his familiar laugh lines still made his visage open and inviting.

She scoffed lightly. "Geeze, Dad. Stealth like that, you could'a been SWAT," she answered, then internally kicked herself for her verbal goof as she caught the slight flinch at the corner of his eyes. It probably wasn't the best idea to joke about the occupation that caused their long separation right off the bat. Smooth, Callaghan, she thought to herself self-deprecatingly. "I mean, I was waiting to spy you when you collected your bags…" she tried to recover.

Ciaran lifted up a relatively small carry-on bag. "Don't got much baggage to leave at your feet," he answered in explanation.

Jules chuckled and smiled at her father. "Now THERE's the understatement of the millennium," she teased him.

"Come here, little one," he opened one of his arms for a slightly awkward half hug. Jules was surprised to learn she didn't fit into his side in quite the same way she had the last time they had met. "Wow, Jules," he laughed softly as he pulled away and looked down at her. "Did ya shrink since we last met? I feel like I could fold you up and carry ya around in my pocket!"

Jules rolled her eyes. "You were the one who dropped me on my head and stunted my growth," she accused sardonically.

"Well," Ciaran shrugged, "we needed someone small enough to crawl through the nooks and crannies of the barn to capture any loose creatures."

Jules smirked to herself. If only he knew how often her small stature had been needed to crawl through tiny spaces no one else could fit through to get the job done in the SRU. Somehow she didn't think he'd approve of that little tidbit of information at this point.

"So, Julianna," her father began in a less jovial tone. "Where's this beau of yours?" he questioned as they began to walk out to her jeep.

Jules swore she caught him caressing his knuckles slightly as he asked this question.

"He's back at my house, Dad." She made sure to emphasize the word 'my' so as to signify the fact that they weren't technically cohabitating. They still had their own residences. The fact that Sam spent more nights then not at her home was immaterial to her cause. "I got permission to get off work early to pick you up, so he's just gonna meet us there."

Ciaran narrowed his eyes at his daughter. "When you said you work with him, you meant on the same team?"

Jules simply shrugged in reply.

"Julianna…" he said with disappointment. Jules rolled her eyes at his reaction. So there must have been some Priority of Life type code thing when he was on the force too.

"Don't pull a Toth on me, Dad," said dryly. Ignoring the look of ignorance on his face, she continued, "We were cleared by the Chief to be together. We're not breaking any rules or regulations," anymore, she added to herself at the end. She hid her smirk at this thought from her father as she opened the door of her car.

"So, darl'n," Ciaran began as he buckled his seatbelt. "What am I to call this young man? I have a feeling you find 'Pond Scum' or 'Junior' not that grand of a name."

Jules whipped her head towards her father to give him a one eyebrow raised, flat mouthed look as she tilted her head in annoyance. But then she jerked her head and smiled to herself for a moment. "Sometimes I call him 'Pretty Boy,' but," she sighed and grew serious, "Sam," she smiled at the thought of the man she loved. "You can call him Sam."

XXXX

As Jules placed her key in the lock to her townhouse, she heard her father 'hmmphh' behind her as he examined her Jeep more minutely in the light from the porch and street lap. "You really think this is suitable transportation, darl'n," her father asked as she opened the door and stepped back to allow him entrance.

Jules found herself rolling her eyes again. Fathers never thought their daughters' cars were ever safe enough. "Yeah, Dad. It's great. I only get whiplash from the inferior suspension twice a month."

Ciaran took her words seriously for a moment before he caught the sarcastic set of her face. "Whiplash is all fun and games until someone's head falls off, Jules," he matched her at her game.

Jules darkly shook her head at him with narrowed eyebrows, but stopped when she saw Sam approaching the two new arrivals from the kitchen. As her face lit into a smile at the sight of him, Ciaran looked up to view his daughter's fiancé for the first time. He scoffed slightly and leaned down to 'whisper,' "You're right 'bout the pretty boy thing," but still loud enough for Sam to hear.

The plastered smile on Sam's face dropped slightly at the man's words. Jules jumped in to diffuse the situation before Sam returned to the nervous wreck he'd been that morning.

"Dad, this is my fiancé, Sam Braddock. Sam, this is my Dad, Ciaran Callaghan," she offered introductions.

"Good to meet you, sir," Sam held out his hand and flashed his most brilliant smile.

Ciaran accepted his handshake, but as he did so, turned to Jules and said, "You didn't tell me he was a Lymie." Jules' eyes grew wide as she facepalmed at her father's words. "But, at least he has a firm handshake," he offered to Sam with one of his sparkling smiles.

Sam coughed to hide his discomfort. He was worried about making a terrible first impression with Jules' father, but he never imagined that poor first impression would come as a result of his name.

"Don't worry, Dad," Jules began with irony. "We'll name all the children after Irish Saints."

Sam smiled at the mention of children as Jules walked forward to stand beside him and Ciaran took a moment to study him more closely. He caught sight of the chain around Sam's neck.

"What's that there, Sammy boy?" he questioned pointing to the chain. "A bit'a jewelry around your collar?" He asked this question as if he was actually challenging Sam's masculinity. Sam stood-up straighter and squared his shoulders in a non-conscious act of defense.

Jules purposefully trailed her hand up Sam's chest slow and reassuringly, so as to help steady his nerves a little, until she reached his neck and pulled the chain out. "Dog-tags, Dad. Sam's a vet of the war in Afghanistan," she explained with pride.

"Hmmphh," Ciaran replied. "Thank you for your service, young man. That puts you back at square one," he conceded. Sam breathed a visible sigh of relief.

Jules began to lead the men towards the couch so that they could sit and chat a little, or rather, continue to have their awkward interrogation of a conversation.

The moment Sam's butt hit the couch, Ciaran started in again. "So, Sam. You ever heard of the Great Famine?"

As a look of dread and shock shot to Sam's face, Jules jumped in before this could go any further. "Speaking of famine, I'm famished! Gee, Sam, sweetie," she began and caught the look of confusion on Sam's face. 'Sweetie?' he began to mouth to her in question. She flicked her eyebrows to signify she was just thinking on her feet. "Why don't you run out to that Tai place we like so much and get us some take-out. That'll give Pop and me a chance to catch-up a little bit more."

Sam smiled as he nodded his head and rose to his feet. "Sure, Jules. No problem." He smiled in thanks to her. The Tai place they liked so much was all the way across town and would give him a chance to collect himself, but most importantly, get away from the interrogations, or rather, just terror, of Jules' father. "Same order as always?"

Jules nodded and stood to walk him towards the door. "Just double it. They don't have the farmer portions Dad's used to at the Hat," she grinned at her father. Ciaran shrugged, but conceded this agreement.

"Catch you later then," Sam said to both Jules and her father.

However, Jules leaned up and kissed him deeply on the lips, saying, "Bye. Love you," just to him.

Sam gave a smile just to her as he pulled away and squeezed her hand as he left.

As the door closed, Ciaran huffed from his place on an easy chair behind Jules. "That little display of affection was just for me, wasn't it, little one?"

Jules turned and smirked a smile as she shrugged. "Well, a little was for Sam, but," her face turned exasperated. "YES! Yes of course it was for you!"

Ciaran's face was full of confusion at her act of psychological warfare. "But, why do that to your dear old Dad, Julianna?"

"YOU CALLED HIM A LYMIE!" Jules exclaimed as she shook her hands at him in frustration.

Ciaran scoffed. "You didn't really expect me to give the man who's stealing my daughter's innocence an easy time, did you?"

Jules rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. "'Stealing my innocence?' You make him sound like he twirls a Snidely Whiplash mustache."

"Darl'n," he began with a smile, "'tis a father's job."

Jules sighed as she shook her head but still smiled at him. "I guess…" She chuckled a little. "Actually, Sarge wasn't all that thrilled when I started dating Sam either."

Ciaran's eyes sparkled in delight. "I think I might like this Sergeant of yours." He grinned mischievously.

She looked at him sitting on the couch alone in a relatively good, albeit teasing, mood. She figured now was as good a time as any to have that discussion of their differences with him. "You want a beer, Dad?" she offered.

Ciaran tilted his head as if she was a teenager offering him a drag of marijuana. "Julianna…"

"Dad," Jules began in the typical annoyance offspring always have when their parents treat them like they're still immature zygotes. "I'm 38 and carry a gun for a living," she said as proof of her maturity as she walked to the refrigerator for the beers.

Ciaran smiled when she returned and accepted her offering of a Guinness. "Yes, but you'll always be a little girl to me." He paused to flick his eyes up and down her height. "Literally in some ways…"

Jules chuckled and smack her father's shoulder as she sat down on the couch to the right of where he sat. As she sat down, she removed her fall coat and laid it on the arm of the couch.

As she did so, Ciaran caught a glimpse of the scar just above her elbow on her left arm. He sighed. Pointing to the offending mark, he commented, "Evidence that you've managed to not die yet, eh?"

Jules exhaled deeply. At least she didn't have to think of a segue to this discussion. "Yeah. But not without a valiant effort on my part," she scoffed.

Ciaran frowned. He found her attempt to make light of the situation in no way funny. "Is that the severed artery?"

"No, that's the scar marking the severed skin OVER the severed artery."

"Julianna."

"Yeah, Dad," she sighed, "that's where that was." He hadn't made any real accusatory statements pertaining to her job or how dangerous it was, so she figured she'd wait to make her position known. Wait until she'd gathered enough information about his state of mind to form a learned and valid argument on her part that might convince him to try to see things the way she did.

"Was that boy," Ciaran paused, "man, Sam, there?"

Jules thought back to the events of that day, how she found herself trapped in a locked lab bleeding out while anthrax spores filled the air. She thought about Sam's face behind the protective glass, his anguish and the anguish she felt in the months after for the pain he'd suffered that day. "All of Team One was there." She paused for a moment and looked down at her folded hands. "Well, except for Sarge. But he saw the whole thing on a video feed and was patched into our com link network." She thought of the fear in Greg's voice as he pleaded with her stay with him, how she apologized for failing him, but how he denied that supposed failure and just told her how proud he was of her. "It was a rough day all around," she looked up at him, "but not terrible. Because of the SRU, no one died that day. Justice was served against a fraudulent company manager and we managed to save both the hostages and the hostage taker who was a victim in his own right." She smiled at him, thinking about how Sam's actions, or rather, lack of actions towards her, had convinced their superiors of their ability to care about each other, but still do their job. She thought about how the day that had sent her into a tailspin a month later had actually been a success. How that day truly signified the importance and effectiveness of the SRU. "We did really good that day."

Ciaran looked deeply into her eyes. "But that was the trigger, wasn't it? What gave you the Post Traumatic Stress?"

Jules knew this question had deeper meaning than that which was on the surface. She knew her father was thinking about her mother and the feelings symptoms similar to the ones she herself had suffered had led to her ultimately taking her own life.

She closed her eyes and smiled as she shook her head slowly. "I don't regret a single moment of it," she revealed. "Not the PTSD I suffered through, and not my life in the SRU." She thought about all the good she and her team had done throughout her career in the SRU. She thought about all the lives they'd saved, all the tragedies they'd averted.

"Your mother," Ciaran began, but Jules cut him off.

"I'm not Mom, Dad." She thought back to all the epiphanies she'd had while fighting her PTSD. "That's one thing I learned from suffering through what I did. I'm not Mom. I'm my own person with a will and mind of my own. And I know that going through what I did, all the panic and loss of confidence, the inexplicable sorrow, just made me stronger." She thought about her team and what they meant to her. How they always supported her, especially on her darkest days. Especially Sam and Greg. "And one of the things that gives me that strength is my team. I know they'll always be there for me, even when I can't be there for myself. And if I hadn't been on Team One," she smiled to herself, "I never would have met Sam, whom I love more than I ever thought I could love anyone." Her smile turned to a bit of a prideful smirk. "And I'm also a damn good sniper and negotiator."

Jules was surprised to see tears beginning to form in her father's eyes. The only time she'd ever seen him cry was after her mother's death. "But you were shot and almost bleed to death and were poisoned." He reached out to cup her face. "You're my little girl, and," he sighed, "and you look so much like your mother." He shook his head. "I can't lose you too, Julianna."

Jules was surprised to find that she was beginning to mirror her father's tears. "I can't promise you that I won't, Dad." She reached up to hold the hand that still cupped her face. "But I can promise you that I'm living a life Mom would have been proud of. And if I die in this job," she smiled at her father reassuringly, "If I die in this job, I know it won't be in vain. I know it will be in the course of service to others. I know it'll have meant something."

Ciaran ducked his head. "I still don't like it. I'll never like it. I'll never understand why you choose this life you do."

"Aw, Dad," Jules began with a smile and slight head shake. "I'm not asking you to understand or even like it. I'm just asking you to accept it."

Ciaran dropped his hand and patted her knee. "That'll be hard for me, darl'n. I have trouble seeing how I can fit into this life you live…"

Jules let out a breath. She knew the only way she would be able to keep her father at least a little in her life was to do something all her negotiator instincts told her not to: to just ignore the problem that was causing so much strife. "You don't have to fit into that life, Dad. We don't have to talk about it. You can just see me as Jules your daughter and not Jules the cop."

Ciaran nodded, but paused before he began to shake his head. "I don't know how I'll fit into your life because I can tell your job defines so much of it. I don't even know if I'll be able to handle your wedding where I know I'll have to hear people talking about what it is you do every day and how it always threatens to take you away from me." He gave her an apologetic grin. "And if I'm that cowardly and unsupportive, I don't think I have the right to even be part of the service…"

Jules shook her head lightly. She knew this was a probable outcome of the problems between them, which they were only now discussing. It was one of the reasons she'd asked Greg to support her by walking her down the aisle. "You don't have to, Dad." She smiled at him. "You just have to stand at the back of the church and look dashing in a suit." She flicked her eyebrows at him in encouragement.

Ciaran chuckled. "I think I can swing that, darl'n."

Jules smiled and nodded, grateful for his concession. "Oh, and also, Dad," she scoffed lightly and laughed a bit. "You have to accept Sam."

Ciaran narrowed his eyes. "Now that might be ask'n a bit much, little one," he said in obvious sarcasm.

Jules rolled her eyes. "'Tis a father's job, I guess…"

As they both chuckled at this comment, Jules became thoughtful before making one last request. "And Dad?"

"Yes, Julianna," her father asked catching the serious set of her face.

"Can I just ask one more thing of you?" When he nodded, she continued, "You don't have to like or fully accept the job that defines who I am, but can I ask you to at least be proud of me?"

"Oh, Jules," her father pinched the dimple on her check just like when she was five years old. "With a strong will and ability to stand up for what you think's right, Even to ME," he widened his eyes for emphasis, "There's not'a way I could ever NOT be proud of you."

Jules smiled. "Like father, like daughter," she shrugged. She thought about how no, her father and her would not see eye to eye on the job she held and subsequently the way she lived her life. But at least they had agreed to disagree and maintain a relationship based on the simple, primal love and respect they held for each other. She knew it wasn't much, but it was enough.

Additional Author's Note: So what I was trying to do here was illustrate a situation where two people who love and respect each other don't see eye to eye on a significant topic, but find some way maintain a, albeit strained, relationship. I've seen these types of relationships in life and thought it would be plausible for Jules and her dad to have one of those. Next chapter, Sean comes back and Ciaran continues to toy with Sam. Yay!

Please leave a review and let me know how this chapter went. I'd especially love to hear your views Jules' and her father's talk.

Later gators,

Eals