A/N: Trish needs to get an account (or at least sign in!) so that I can taunt in between chapters AND cut down on reviewer specific bits in a/n's. :) Oh, and punctuation is totally important. Ps, super unimpressed that the # symbol didn't make it into the 'official' chapter title for #JamBaby. Little tidbit, that particular chapter/title MAY have come from my recent discovery of twitter (totally only use it to follow flashpoint stuff, lol!)
So not sure how I feel about this chapter. I'm pretty sure it goes from Ok to crap, but I promise there's a reason for it.
Also, I had doubts about putting that teaser bit at the beginning of the first chapter… from the reviews I gather people have gone back to re-read that bit… well, spoiler alert, it has nothing to do with this chapter. Well, other than the fact that it's the same story and ultimately it's all related. Anyways, you can all relax for a chapter or two… or can you? I'm mean. You'll have to ignore me… I've never written a story this far in advance of posting it before. Also, can I just throw out there that it's become obscenely hot where I live in the past day or two to the point where I'm ready to scream? Better yet, it's supposedly going to snow later this week… Come on, Canada, pick a damn side - you can be hot, or cold, but please not both. Thank you. On with the chapter.


Sam's been studying everything from conception to childbirth. He knows which vitamins promote this, prevent that. He's read a few blogs from expectant mothers and he's certain he can tell what Jules is thinking, feeling. He's brushed up on his massage techniques, is certain that when her back begins to constantly ache from the added weight of her front he'll be able to soothe it with his eyes closed, one hand cuffed behind his back.

He's got the knowledge, the know-how, the inside track. The only thing he's missing, is a uterus.

That particular piece of equipment belongs to his wife. His beautiful, loving, stubborn as all hell, wife. He knows she's read all the same books as he has, but his arrogant self is telling him he knows more than she does. She keeps saying she's not interested in an epidural. She's got a thing about pain killers, doesn't want them if they're optional. He's told her not to think about it like that, drawn comparisons with the way they sedate people for surgeries. It's because it hurts, and if she doesn't have to suffer through the entire thing she shouldn't.

She's still fighting the idea, but he knows she'll give in as soon as she goes into labour. He knows because when he mentions that she shouldn't associate the birth of their child with that level of pain he sees the thoughtfulness in her eyes because she knows he's right.

Regardless, it's not all that important at this point.

"Will you stop staring?" She's trying to sound irritated, he sees right through it. He knows she's loving it too.

"I'm sorry, I'm just so excited that you can see it."

She smiles and rolls her eyes. "Sam, its barely even there. It's little more than a food baby."

"Sure, if you ate the whole buffet." He's smirking but he can't help it. For weeks he's been petting what might as well have been a board, desperately consulting the books on what's happening because he can't see it, and he's afraid Jules won't mention something. They've been having the same debate every morning - he'll insist she's grown, that his hand used to fit across a certain way and now it doesn't, while she'll insist he's imagining it. He pointed out that she had loosened her belt a notch for work, started hooking a hair elastic in place of the button on her jeans, insisting that means she notices it too. She's been insistent that it's just that her clothes haven't been fitting as great as they used to, not a sign that there was actually anything to be seen.

It wasn't until about a week ago that she acknowledged he was right. He caught her in the washroom after her shower, carefully inspecting the newly discovered bump through the fog of the mirror. Upon seeing the wonder in her eyes he'd bit back the urge to tell her he told her so and simply enjoyed the view as her hand drifted up and down, back and forth across her stomach.

"Spike told me to get him a copy. I told him to get his own baby."

"I hope you know how uncomfortable that makes me." His stomach nearly lurches. He'd long ago accepted the relationship between Spike and his baby sister, but the odd thing still sets off some form of rage. Such as the idea of Spike having a baby with his sister. Getting his sister pregnant. Having sex with his sister. He knows it happens, went for several midnight runs last time they visited his parents as a foursome because he could hear them in the next hotel room. He's with Jules on the marriage thing - thinks they're perfect for each other and are wasting their time putting off making it official - but there are certain things he'd rather ignore.

"You know it's going to happen," she says, leaning back onto the inclined table and resting a hand on her stomach. Since she discovered it she's all about showing it off. "Its just a matter of time before there's a cousin."

He groans - if the hotel stay was any indication, she's right. "Can we not talk about that? The baby will have ears soon and I'm sure it doesn't need to hear about it's aunt's sex life. I know I don't. Where's Noah?"

"Who?"

"Wyle."

She's got an eyebrow raised and her nose scrunched. "Did I miss something?"

He rolls his eyes, they had the same discussion last time. He's about to get sarcastic in reminding her when the door creaks and Dr Ryan strolls in.

"Morning all," he grins, flipping through his notes. "How is everyone doing today?"

He happens to stifle back a yawn at that moment, earning him a filthy glare from Jules.

"Excuse him, apparently the army doesn't make you good at mornings."

"I'm not military anymore, it's allowed."

"Not on the police force."

Dr Ryan simply shakes his head, clearly ready to move on. "How's the nausea?"

"The past week has been better, so far none this morning."

"Good, good…" The doctor continues with a practiced list of the usual questions. Jules is polite in answering them, though when Sam asks the same things she gives him hell for it, says he's not a doctor and should stop trying to be. He knows she's just tired, irritable, her body busying itself with growing their baby rather than making her happy to see him, so he let's it slide. At least in the doctor's office he can get answers without pissing her off. The question of has she thought about maternity leave comes up and his ears perk up a little, but she tells the doctor they haven't really talked about it yet. It's a complete lie - he's asked her a few times if she's going to set a date or if she'll simply keep working until she goes into labour in the middle of the SRU. She hasn't given him an answer other than that she's only four months in and has another five to go. Yep, that baby is going to be born in the briefing room. He knows it. Hell, Jules might prefer it to the hospital.

The questions stop and he's practically giddy as Jules slides her shirt up and the ER character squirts goo on her tummy. The books all refer to it as a belly, but Jules is right, it's not that big yet so he determines its more of a tummy at this point. His attention on the screen, he first only sees the usual swirly nonsense. Suddenly, something that looks suspiciously like a human being makes its way into the frame. His breath hitches and he hears Jules do the same. He's read all about how the baby is currently about the size of a half banana, but he never expected it to look so… real. The doctor lets them hear the heartbeat while he gives them the grand tour of what's happening in Jules' downstairs, and he thinks that if Jules were to get a tape of that sound and give it to him for Christmas he'd be the happiest man on the planet.

The moment is interrupted by the sound of both their phones going off. Dr Ryan shoots him a no phones in the hospital glare as he sheepishly turns his off before going through Jules' purse to turn hers off. He's only glad the doctor used his best face to convey the message because he's sure Jules would have paled at the sound of the word hospital. She may not have the morning sickness anymore, but the weeping over-emotional mess still remains. Hormones he reminds himself daily, its the hormones.

As they walk out of the hospital, new pictures in hands, he checks his phone. There's several messages and he knows they've missed something big. His face must know it too because Jules is studying him intently as they get into her jeep and he finishes listening to the message.

"What is it?"

"We're being called in," he tells her, pulling his seatbelt on. "Someone on team two was shot."


The funeral is overwhelmingly well attended, and painfully long. Most of the time funerals remind him of other funerals - his sister's, his best friend's - but this one has an extra effect. Standing in cool pants in a crowd of all the off duty teams he's reminded of what he's always known - their job is dangerous.

He doesn't need to look at Jules to know exactly how this is affecting her. He knows she gave up on the belt for her uniform, but she's been able to make the rest of it work around the bump. He knows why she yelled at him when he said they'd all understand if she wore something else, and why now that they're there she hasn't let go of his hand. At the beginning of the service there's mention of how it happened and he feels her hand tighten on his. He knows she's reliving her own shooting, feeling the guilt that must come with being someone who's survived such a thing at the funeral of someone who didn't. Ed looks sick, likely for the same reason, and Wordy, having taken many a bullet to the vest but no real damage, hasn't said a word past Hey. None of them need to talk right now; the simple reminder that they aren't actually invincible is enough.

They join the other teams at the Goose for the reception. It's an odd place for a memorial, a bar, but it seems fitting. It's one of the only places where all of the teams have spent any time together, second only to HQ. He doesn't drink a drop all night. He's seen the way Jules is only half paying attention to the conversations at their table of team one plus Wordy and Winnie, and knows she's better off not driving home. He's certain that if it gets quiet enough for too long she'll be asleep under the table. Still, she refuses to leave early. Doesn't want to be rude.

She excuses herself from the table and he watches carefully for any sign that he should follow. He's near gleeful when Winnie decides to accompany her to the ladies room.

"So Samtastic, how's pregnancy treating you?"

For the first time that day, he grins; he knew Wordy would ask that. "Does the crying ever stop?" he asks, handing the man a copy of their most recent sonogram.

"Sure, but then it's replaced by the baby crying." Wordy's smirking, obviously pleased with the opportunity to say such a thing to someone other than Ed. "Are you two going to find out what it is?"

He sighs. Jules tends to flip flop between yes and no, and as long as they can settle on a gender neutral colour for the nursery he sees no reason why they would need to know, though he's definitely curious. "Haven't decided yet."

Wordy nods, checks over his shoulder to be sure Jules isn't on her way back yet, and begins to give Sam a detailed list of what to expect, and what not to say or do. Ed joins in and there's a list of adjectives that are off limits - huge, big, large, plump, round - and a reminder that the answer to Do I look Fat? is always a preprogrammed and confident No.

"Don't even look. Just say it and move on." The two older men nod in agreement, seamlessly changing the topic as Jules returns.


"Do you got a minute?"

He watches her furrow her brow and waits for the sarcastic response. "Well, I don't need to go to bed yet if that's what you're asking."

He rolls his eyes as she sits down at the kitchen table beside him. "I wanted to go over some things with you."

As she sorts through a few of the papers on the table he sees her expression change from annoyance to concern. "What's all this about?"

"I've been updating my will." When he sees her open her mouth, likely to protest, he cuts her off. "Please, just let me go over this stuff." He's granted an anxious audience while he goes over everything he can think of. The savings account he's set up and how to access it, the military pension he's, and consequently she's, entitled to after a certain age. Its not much because he wasn't in the army for long, but it'll help. He goes over their life insurance policy, reminds her of what she's entitled to if he dies of natural causes, and how its different if he dies in the line of duty.

She's shuffling her feet, obviously wanting out of the conversation. He can tell he's scaring the shit out of her; he's scaring the shit out of himself.

"Is this about what happened on team two?"

He sighs, bites his lip. "Partly."

She's visibly more nervous at his answer, and slowly forces herself to look him in the eye. "Is there something I should know?" It comes out as a whisper and he's suddenly aware of how terrified she is.

"No, no of course not."

She stands up, too anxious to sit. "Sam seriously, what's this about?" she demands, beginning to pace.

He rushes to stand in front of her, hands on her arms to stop her pacing. "This," he tells her, placing a hand on her growing belly. "This is what this is about. Jules, I have to know that if anything ever happens to me that my family will be ok. I need to know that you two will be taken care of, and that you know that too. Honestly, I hope you'll do the same thing before you come back to work from maternity leave."

There's a tense moment as she stares at him, seemingly contemplating what he's offering. "Fine," she agrees with a sigh, reluctantly reclaiming her place at the table. "Let's get this over with."

A/N: Now, be good little readers and review. Any ideas on if it's a boy or a girl?