Author's Note: School is still taking a lot out of me, so no guarantees on the next update. Thanks for your patience and for sticking with me. Eventually I will finish all my current Flashpoint stories. I hope you enjoy this chapter, especially most of the last scene. I hope the ideas here aren't too confusing and makes as much sense to you as it did to me as I was writing.

Disclaimer: The show Flashpoint and its characters were created by Mark Ellis and Stephanie Morgenstern and belong to them and the networks that air the episodes. Since the show has ended, our only way of getting new Flashpoint is through fan fiction. This story is my attempt to help fill the void, and the only profit I make is the warm fuzzy feeling reviews give me. Anything that does not come directly from the show is my own creation and should not be used without my permission.

The Re-Education of Jules Callaghan

Chapter 21

"Okay, Team, we'll meet up in the shoot house in half an hour for the training. Dismissed." Greg ended the briefing and closed the file on the table before him.

Almost immediately, most of the team was out of their seats and heading out to get ready. Only Sam remained firmly rooted in his chair. Greg could tell by the rocking of the younger man's jaw that Sam was less than thrilled with the direction the morning briefing had taken. He couldn't really blame him but, at the same time, there was little he could do about it. He was about to say something to him when Ed caught his eye and shook his head. The two oldest members of the team had a silent conversation and finally Greg sighed and followed the rest of the team out of the room, leaving Ed alone with Sam.

Ed returned to the table and pulled out a chair next to Sam and sat down. He didn't say anything; he could be patient and wait until Sam made the first move. It didn't take long. Sam slammed the chair back and stood. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he turned his back on the team leader and stared out the window.

"This is bullshit and you know it."

Ed didn't move from his seat. Instead his eyes bore into the back of the blond sniper's back. "It's training, Sam. It's what we do. It's what makes us good at our jobs."

Sam turned back toward him, leaning against the window. "You know what happened last time."

Failed Negotiation Training. Ed had known as soon as Greg had announced they would be completing the training Ed, Jules and Sam had received at the team competition day that Sam wouldn't be happy about it. But that was a part of what that day had been about. Providing a new training technique to a select few on each team so they could go back and train the rest of the teams. There was no getting around it. "Yeah, I know. It still has to be done. It's been two weeks since our competition day and Team One is the only team that hasn't completed the training yet. What would you have me do, Sam? What would you do if you were me?"

Have Jules as far away from the exercise as possible. It was on the tip of his tongue to say it, but he stopped himself. He was pretty sure Jules was still upset about her reaction the day of the competition even though they hadn't talked about it since the day it happened. She considered her reaction as a weakness or a failure on her part to be the professional she considered herself to be. And now Ed wanted to recreate the same scenario. It wasn't fair. However, he also knew that if Jules felt like they were treating her differently it would just anger her. Or worse, just make her feel all over again that she'd messed up. His shoulders slumped slightly. "I don't know. I just know I wouldn't send her back into a situation that could trigger a bad reaction without doing something."

"And you think that's what we're doing here?" While Sam's voice was strained with emotion, Ed's was completely calm and controlled. He could have been asking about what the team should get for lunch instead of trying to talk down an angry teammate. "It's not. One of the reasons Greg and I have been putting this off is because we've been trying to figure out a way to get it done without making things worse. I mean it's not like we can just wait for Jules to call in sick or take a day off because who the hell knows when that will happen? If we just ordered her to stay away from the training all that would do is piss her off and make Holleran question why she wasn't there when he reads the training report."

"And if she has a bad reaction again? You don't think that's not going to look bad in the training report?" A little of the anger had left Sam's voice but not the aggravation.

"Sam, Greg and I went to see Jules last night. Went to her house so it would all be unofficial. Told her what was going down today and told her our concerns. Greg gave her the option of taking a day off. That way it wouldn't look bad. I'm sure you can guess what her response to that was. So we did the next best thing we could have. We worked out a plan to minimize the risk of the same thing happening today that happened on the training day."

Sam returned to his seat. "And that is?"

"She doesn't play the victim. Not in any of the scenarios, not even with you playing the subject. She wasn't happy about it; didn't want anyone to feel like she couldn't do her job. Greg had to remind her that no one on the team would ever think that. We also explained that we weren't cutting her out of everything, just that role. She finally gave in. However, in typical Jules fashion, she only agreed if we met her condition."

Shaking his head, Sam gave a little snort. He didn't have any trouble seeing her doing that. Only Jules would try to negotiate terms on a decision that had already been made. "And that is?"

"She gets to play the subject at least once."

In all his time with Team One, Sam didn't think he'd ever seen Jules play the subject in any negotiation drill. It just wasn't really practical. Everyone else on the team practically towered over her because of her petite stature. Logistically, it was just too difficult to work. It was something that Jules also groused about routinely. Always the victim, never the subject. He'd heard her mumble that line too many times since he'd known her. It was only after he'd come to understand what had happened to her that he realized just why it bugged her so much. She didn't like being the victim because it reminded her too much of the fact that she had truly been someone's victim.

Sam sighed; he still wasn't too happy with the plan. His own overprotective nature just screamed that it wasn't a good idea. Unfortunately, there wasn't much he could do about it. Didn't stop him from trying though. "Okay, fine, but I have my own condition to this as well."

Ed frowned. When had training drills become such a negotiation field? It was on the tip of his tongue to remind Sam that despite the fact that they sometimes shared leadership duties, the younger man didn't really have a say in this. Instead he waited to hear what Sam had to suggest.

"I'm the hostage when Jules plays the subject." Sam's blue eyes never wavered as he stared at Ed.

Ed just studied him for several minutes. The scenario Sam was suggesting just reversed the roles that had triggered a bad response in the first place. Deep down he couldn't help but be concerned that granting Sam's request was just a recipe for disaster. At the same time though, he knew what Sam was asking for was the best plan. That was why he'd already decided to pair them together even before Sam had asked. He didn't see the point of admitting that now, however. Though tensions seemed to have eased slightly between Sam and Jules this week, they had all realized their weekend off hadn't brought a complete turnaround to the troubles plaguing the couple. Why not let the younger man feel like he'd won at least one battle? He nodded. "Done. Now let's go gear up."

It wasn't until they reached the shoot house that Sam actually got a chance to speak to Jules. After their wonderfully spent weekend, both had made sure to maintain at least some of that closeness during their work week, even if it wasn't as close as they'd both actually wanted. They'd gone to dinner a couple of times after shift. The time they'd spent together had been lighthearted and casual; both careful not to let anything get too heavy. He could tell, though she was trying to hide it, that the separation was starting to get to her more and more. He'd wondered if it was the separation or what had been driving her that was bothering her. He wished he could do something - anything- to make things better for her. Just like he wished he could make today go away as well. He had a bad feeling about it. He studied her now. Her expression was carefully neutral and not even he could see past the façade to what she was actually feeling. Taking her arm, he stopped her just before they entered the building. He waited until the others were inside before speaking. "Are you okay with this? You don't have anything to prove to anyone."

Jules turned to look at him and in that moment, he caught just a glimpse of the pain buried so deeply he wasn't sure she was even aware it was there. "The fact that you are even asking me if I can do this says I do have something to prove. You're not sure I can do this any more than Sarge and Ed are." Seeing that Sam was about to protest, Jules shook her head cutting him off. When she spoke next, her words were softer, more reflecting. "Besides maybe I have to prove something to myself, Sam. I can do this. I have to do this. This is my job and it's a job I love. I will not let anything that has happened take this away from me."

Giving the arm he was holding a reassuring squeeze, Sam nodded. Once again, he'd have to set aside his own doubts and misgivings and let her do what she needed to do. It was killing him but he knew he had no choice. "Okay, let's do this then."

Even though Ed, Sam, and Jules had the distinction of being the snipers on the team, everyone had the possibility of being the person forced to take a Scorpio shot in a negotiation. After all, not all situations allowed for a sniper perch and solution, so anyone covering the negotiator in a hot call had to be ready to make the shot. It was something no one wanted to have to do but all were trained for just in case. That was why this exercise was so important and had to be done.

To start off the training, Ed played the role of the subject, Sam the hostage, Greg the negotiator, and Jules the officer with the gun. This way, both Spike and Raf had a chance to see what was expected. About five minutes into the scenario, Greg made the call and Jules took the shot.

Ed took a moment to clean up the paint splatter from Jules's shot as Greg explained the purpose of the training. "We never know exactly what we might encounter on any given hot call. Any one of us could find ourselves in a position to either be negotiator or the one staring down the scope. While we can train at the gun range to be able to accurately hit the mark, being mentally ready to make the call or take the shot is a lot harder. As much as we don't want it to happen, sometimes no matter how hard we try or how good we think we are, words aren't enough. You have to be ready to recognize the signs and be ready to make the call. That's what today is about. Spike, you're up as negotiator. Raf, you are covering him. Your subject is a young woman who has just discovered that her long-time boyfriend is leaving her for another woman. She's not too happy with that and is holding him at gunpoint."

Both Spike and Raf looked a little surprised to see Jules was going to play the subject; Spike more so than Raf. In all of his time on Team One, Spike had never known Jules to actually be assigned that role. It almost seemed surreal to Spike to even think about Jules holding someone hostage. He took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves. For the sake of the exercise, he'd have to forget that this was his good friend Jules and pretend she was someone totally different.

As Sam and Jules started to move into position, Greg pulled Jules aside to whisper instructions to her. He couldn't reveal everything about the scenario to Spike. In a real call, no matter how much intel they were able to get, there was always a chance there was more they didn't know. Some of the hardest calls they ever had to work were those where the subject was someone they could sympathize with. Dealing with a female subject almost always played on their sympathies at least to the point that it sometimes seemed harder to make the decision to make a Scorpio call on a woman, even if that woman was threatening to kill someone.

Jules stood behind Sam with her empty gun in hand pressed against his temple. She had to stand just slightly to the side so she could see Spike and Raf; Sam's superior height was definitely a disadvantage to her. She took a deep breath, getting into character. Sarge had told her to counter the image of her being a vulnerable suspect by being almost belligerent to all of Spike's attempts at negotiation. She tried to channel all the frustration she'd been feeling the last couple of weeks into her act and it seemed to work. She could see Spike quickly realizing he wasn't going to be able to talk her down.

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Raf lining up his shot, preparing for the moment that Spike had no choice but to call "Scorpio." Her heart skipped a beat as she realized that his shot was going to be off. It wasn't going to hit her in the shoulder like the exercise called for. It was going to be much worse. And there was very little she could do about it. Without conscious thought and on automatic pilot, she shifted ever so slightly hoping it was enough to minimize the damage.

- FP - FP - FP -

For a moment as the paint bullet hit its intended target in an unintended place, there was nothing but silence in the room. Then as reddish-pink spread through Jules's hair and down the side of her face and neck, pandemonium erupted.

Jules teetered unsteadily. She wasn't really hurt but a head shot with the paint bullet was enough to unbalance her. Sam reacted instantly, reaching out to grab hold of her and pull her close to steady her. Ed and Greg who had been sitting nearby watching the exercise jumped to their feet and Spike took several steps toward her. Only Raf seemed glued to his spot, staring horrified at his mistake. Slowly he lowered his weapon.

"Shit, Jules. I'm sorry. I don't know what happened. I thought I had the shot; I really did. But the height difference. I guess I just couldn't get it."

By now, Sam had led Jules over to the chairs Greg and Ed had vacated and the three of them plus Spike had surrounded her to check her out. Unfortunately, the shot had caught her on the same side of the head that she'd struck against the desk a couple of weeks earlier but not directly on the same spot. Sam kept his focus on her, knowing if he didn't, he would end up saying something he'd regret.

Jules waved off his attempts to gently probe the side of her head. Even though they avoided head shots as a rule when training, taking the paint bullet to the side of the head hadn't really hurt her. It had just shaken her up a little. "I'm fine. Stop hovering over me. It's nothing."

Once Ed, Greg, and Spike each took a step back - there was no way in hell that Sam was going to be convinced to do the same that easily - Jules locked eyes on Raf who still hadn't budged from his spot. Her eyes flashed. "What the hell were you thinking? Do you realize what you could have done? We're supposed to be the best at what we do; we can't afford rookie mistakes like what you just did. What if there had been real bullets in that gun instead of the paint balls?"

"Jules." Sam's voice was soft and almost inaudible compared to her own, but the hand gripping her shoulder seemed to convey his attempt to calm her down even more than calling her name. He too had seen that Raf's aim was slightly off just before the shot had been taken. He had known the path the trajectory would have taken. He'd felt Jules's last minute shift of position. Though he was still confused about everything, a kernel of understanding was starting to develop. Could it be?

"Jules, I'm really sorry. I don't know what happened…" Raf again tried to apologize but it was clear Jules wasn't having any of it.

Ed stepped between the two of them and turned to Raf. "It's okay, Raf. We know. Mistakes happen and it's much better when they happen in training then out in the field. Maybe we need to let Jules play the subject more often so we all get used to that sort of height difference and the challenges it brings. Let's set up to go again. This time, I'll be the subject, the Boss is the hostage, Sam will negotiate, and Spike will cover Sam."

- FP - FP - FP -

There were times during a really long, intensive training session that Sam found himself almost longing for Winnie's voice to come over the radio and loud speaker announcing a hot call that would pull them from the training and send them into action. Today was not one of those days.

With almost each and every drill they ran through with the Failed Negotiations Training, the kernel of understanding that had planted itself in his head grew and blossomed. He was starting to understand so much more, even though more and more questions kept popping up for each one he thought he'd found an answer to.

Raf's original aim on the shot that had hit Jules's head had been off from the start. If Jules hadn't moved at the last second, the paintball wouldn't have hit her at all: it would have hit him just below his shoulder. Jules had taken a shot to the head to prevent him from being hit.

So with each drill he participated in, he was only half present in the scenario. The other half of him was surreptitiously watching Jules with such intensity that there was no way she could hide her reactions from him even if she wasn't even aware of them herself. He'd seen her tense up when he played the hostage, relaxing only when whoever was negotiating called Scorpio. When he played the subject, he'd been keenly aware of the way her stress level seemed to grow exponentially whenever "Scorpio" was called.

Whether she realized it or not, Jules was terrified of something happening to him. It didn't matter that it was paintballs being fired at him, her body was tensing up as if it were amour piercing bullets. He knew that reaction all too well. He'd felt the same way after she'd been shot. For months after her return to the team, he'd found himself breathing heavily and sweating profusely whenever there was even a possibility that she could once again come under fire. He'd found himself clinging even more tightly to his anger that their relationship had had to end in order for her to return to the team to prevent him from acting out on those feelings of helplessness.

However, his suspicions weren't enough, he needed to test his theory. And he was pretty sure he knew how to do it. When Ed announced it was the last drill of the day, Sam pulled the team leader aside and outlined his idea. He didn't mention why he wanted to carry out his plan or say anything about his suspicions. Instead he sold it as merely a way to throw a wrench in a drill that everyone had started to become complacent in after so many run-throughs. Ed agreed, saying it was a good suggestion. They got into position.

Ed was the subject, Sam was the hostage, Jules was the negotiator, and Raf was covering her. Given what had happened earlier, Sam regretted the role that Raf was about to inadvertently play in this plan of his but it couldn't be helped. He had to know for sure if he was right or wrong. He took a deep breath and waited for just the right moment.

It took awhile. Jules was a good negotiator, even if it was a drill she knew was doomed to fail from the beginning. Usually, in these kinds of drills, Sam loved watching the byplay between Ed and Jules. It was like watching a game of cat and mouse without really knowing which was the cat and which was the mouse. Today was no exception, but Sam was impatient, ready to see if his theory would pan out. Finally, Ed made his move pushing Jules to make the Scorpio call.

Immediately, knowing he only had a split second before the word left Jules's lips, Raf pulled the trigger, and the paint ball hit its target, Sam began to struggle against Ed's hold, fighting to get free. That started a chain of events that happened so fast that they appeared to occur simultaneously.

Ed reacted as if he hadn't been expecting Sam to fight him and the two began to tussle over the gun with Sam's back remaining toward Ed. This changed their positions too quickly for Raf to adjust or hold his shot. The paintball hit Sam square in the chest instead of Ed's shoulder. Had it been a real bullet, it would have been a true shot to the heart. Through it all, Sam's eyes never left Jules. Only someone who knew her as well as he did would pick up on the subtle panic that came over her.

Color slowly drained from her face, her breathing and heart rate quickened almost imperceptivity, and her pupils dilated ever so slightly. Her eyes never left him but she wasn't staring at his face the way he was her. No, she was locked on the spread of red on his t-shirt and it was clear to Sam she wasn't seeing paint. His theory was confirmed but suddenly Sam felt like a complete ass for putting her through this. He took a step toward her, but just as he did, the interruption he hadn't wanted in this training suddenly happened.

"Team One, gear up. Hot call. Panic alarm Hilltrust Bank. Possible hostage situation."

"Okay Team, let's go keep the peace." Sarge announced as they all headed back to the main building.

Sam tried to catch up with Jules; he wanted to talk to her, explain why he'd done what he'd done, make sure she was okay, but she'd been out of the room too fast and moving too quickly for him to reach her before she disappeared into the locker room to change from her training clothes into her uniform. Even when they reached the vehicles, he thought that maybe they would have a moment or two during the ride for him to talk to her. But when Jules jumped in the SUV with Spike, it was clear that wasn't going to happen either.

Had he made a colossal mistake? Had his need to figure out Jules's reactions to this particular training exceeded what she could handle, even as strong as he knew she really was? Raf, who was riding with him instead of Jules, glanced over at him. "Sorry about shooting you. Guess I really do need to spend a hell of a lot more time at the gun range."

Sam shook his eyes. "It wasn't your aim that was off, Raf, not with that last shot at least. You just happened to be in the wrong spot. Don't worry about it."

"Jules looked ready to spit nails at me, or call a Scorpio on me. I don't think she agrees with you. But I guess a paint ball to the head hurts a little more than one to the chest."

Sam didn't tell him that he was pretty sure that the shot to his chest had hurt Jules worse than the shot she'd taken to the head had. Admitting that to Raf would mean explaining exactly what he'd been thinking during the training. He didn't want to say anything about that to anyone but Jules. If she would listen to him.

- FP - FP - FP -

Jules stepped out of the shower with the towel wrapped securely around her body. Shift had ended almost three hours ago, but she was just now finishing up with SIU from the call that had taken them away from the training earlier. The training. Sam. Red paint staining the t-shirt directly over his heart. She'd been able to push the image of the paintball hitting him from her mind as long as she'd been focused on the call.

The call. Ironic that the call had interrupted Failed Negotiations Training because it had become obvious almost from their arrival on scene that Alexander Southering planned on succeeding at robbing the bank or dying in the process. As the negotiator on the call, Jules had put aside everything that had happened during the earlier exercise and had tried her best to change his mind. He wasn't having anything to do with it. Despite her best efforts, Southering had forced her hand when his finger had tightened on the trigger of the .38 Special he was holding against the forehead of the pregnant teller he'd been holding hostage. Almost as soon as the O in Scorpio left her mouth, Southering was dead, taken down by Ed's careful shot. The only harm to the teller had been an elevated blood pressure due to the stress of being held at gunpoint and her skin and clothes splattered with the subject's blood.

Though the Scorpio call had been justifiable and unavoidable, both Jules and Ed had been escorted to SIU for the mandatory interview and investigation. Jules had been released before Ed but that didn't surprise her; it always seemed like the interview was more intense for the officer who took the shot rather than the one who had made the call. She'd made her way back to the SRU floor and gone straight to the locker room.

Opening her locker, she pulled out the clothes she'd worn to work that day. As she started to dress, she began to shake. She couldn't understand it. Sure the locker room was cooler than the almost scalding hot water she'd just been standing under, but it was far from cold. Her hands were shaking so much she almost couldn't manage the zipper and button on her jeans. Fortunately, her top was a pullover. Dressed, she sat down on the bench and just stared at her trembling hands. What was going on? Sure, lunch had been a quick break between training drills but she was pretty sure she'd eaten enough that she shouldn't be experiencing a low blood sugar moment.

There was a scrape of movement behind her and she stiffened. She didn't want anyone to see her and worry. If they did, word would get back to either Sarge or Sam and they would hover over her insistently. Taking several deep, cleansing breaths, she rubbed her palms against her jeans legs and hoped it wouldn't be obvious she was shaking. She turned slowly to see who was coming in, expecting to see either Donna or Winnie. She breathed in sharply.

It was Sam.

She had figured the rest of the team had gone home already. There had been no reason for them to stick around as she and Ed finished with SIU. Why was Sam still there? He crossed the room, his blue eyes full of concern.

"I'm driving you home."

Jules frowned and her eyes narrowed. "I don't need anyone driving me anywhere."

Sam simply shrugged. "Maybe, but I'm still driving you home. We need to talk and I don't think you want to do it here."

He had that stubborn set to his jaw. The one that said that no matter how much she protested and insisted she was quite capable of driving herself, he wasn't going to back down. With a huff, she rose from the bench with a silent prayer that he wouldn't notice her hands. She grabbed her purse and strode past him and out of the locker room. He followed right behind him.

He stayed behind her the whole walk down the stairs but as they crossed the parking lot, he quickly passed her so that he reached the driver's side of the Jeep before her, erasing any question about whether he intended on letting her drive. Jules got into the passenger side without comment. She was annoyed at the way he was bossing her around but deep inside she was glad he was driving. The walk down hadn't eased the shaky feeling that had come over her in the locker room. If anything, the feeling had worsened and she was sure it probably wasn't a good idea for her to be behind the wheel. She quickly fastened her seatbelt so Sam couldn't see her trembling hands and then twisted in her seat so that her back was mostly to her. Let him think she was mad at the way he was treating her.

She'd finally figured out what was wrong with her even if she didn't understand it. A panic attack. Though most of the ones she'd experienced after her mother's death and what had happened with Johnny twenty years earlier had sent her inward and unresponsive, she'd had more than a few regular attacks, especially during her college days, to recognize when she was having one. She couldn't, however, figure out why she was having one now. It made absolutely no sense.

Sam didn't try talking to her on the drive home, and she was grateful for that. She knew if he picked up on her distress, he'd want to know what had upset her. It was a question she couldn't answer, not to him and not even to herself. She could only hope that once they arrived at the house, Sam would drop her off and then leave. She wasn't sure how he expected to get home since he'd left his bike at work, but she didn't care. He could drive the Jeep to his apartment if he wanted to. She only wanted to get inside and lock the door and the world behind her before she lost the last semblance of control she had left.

Unfortunately, Sam seemed intent on following her up the walk to the front door. She wasn't sure why she was surprised. He'd mentioned before they left headquarters that they needed to talk. With her key in her hand, she took a deep breath to try to steady her nerves and then turned to Sam. She couldn't handle any intense conversation, not when she was on the verge of completely losing her cool. The words died in her throat as she looked at him. Her heart was pounding so hard she could hear it reverberating in her head. It was hard to catch her breath.

She was suddenly convinced that if she turned Sam away now, she'd never see him again. Not in her house, not in her bed, not even at work. That he would simply disappear from her life completely. It wasn't rationale but recognizing that fact was the only rationale thinking she was able to do at the moment.

Sam looked at her in concern, wondering why she hadn't unlocked the door and was just standing on the front stoop looking at him. He could read the fear in her eyes, the same fear he'd seen reflecting there when the paintball had hit him in the chest earlier. He reached his hand up to caress her cheek, to reassure her that he was okay and that everything would remain that way. He couldn't stand the fact that he had in any way contributed to her discomfort.

She took a step backward, toward the door and away from him. Then she turned abruptly and shoved the key into the lock with trembling fingers. It took her a couple of tries but finally she was able to open the door and almost stumble inside. Sam followed, his concern over her behavior prompting him just as much as his need to talk to her. He closed the door behind him, locking it automatically out of habit.

"Jules?"

Her eyes wide with emotions Sam could only guess at, Jules practically pounced on him. Her hands were on the buttons of his shirt, frantically trying to undress him. The trouble she'd had with the key was nothing compared to the difficulty the buttons on his shirt were causing her. Though his body wanted nothing more to let her continue, he brought his hands up to encircle her wrists stopping her.

The glare she gave him was much harsher than the look he'd given her earlier in the locker room when he'd insisted on driving her home but it was just as insistent that she wasn't going to be dissuaded. He hadn't really wanted to stop her; he was simply wanting to help her, but he released his hold on her wrists just the same. If she ripped every button off the shirt, so be it.

Several buttons were sacrificed in her attempt to remove his shirt, but she soon had the material shoved past his shoulders so that it fell in a heap on the floor. As he stood there shirtless, her shaking fingers probed his chest as if looking for wounds that just weren't there. Except maybe in her tortured imagination. Sam let her examine him for several minutes before he stepped closer and wrapped his arms around her body, trapping her hands between their bodies.

He leaned down so that his mouth was right at her ear, offering her reassurances that he hoped she was listening to instead of just hearing. "It's okay, Jules. I'm okay. It was just training. I wasn't hurt. I was never in any danger. Nothing happened."

Her struggling ceased but not the shaking. That continued for several more minutes as he felt her tears hitting his bare chest. He continued to hold her and offer her his soft soothing words until he felt her surrender against him. Even then, the shaking only subsided to a tremble. He didn't release her, determined to hold on to her until the very last vestige of fear left her body.

She sniffled and hiccupped slightly. "I'm sorry. I don't know what got into me."

Sam pressed a kiss to her temple, close to wear the paint bullet had caught her earlier. "I do. Delayed reaction. Good thing that call came in when it did, or this probably would have happened right there in front of everybody. On a more positive side, I think I know why you threw me to the floor a couple of weeks ago."

Jules made no move to leave his embrace but angled her head so she could look up at him. Her brows furrowed in confusion. "What?"

"You weren't trying to protect yourself. You were trying to protect me. You knew I was about to be shot and you couldn't let that happen. You attacked me to keep me from being shot. It didn't matter that it was a paint bullet instead of a real one; you were trying to save me. Same reason you moved at the last moment today when you realized Raf's shot was going to be off and hit me instead of you."

Jules shuddered in Sam's arms. "My nightmares. We figured out that they centered around watching you die. Why didn't we put it together before?"

Sam shrugged. "I don't know. I guess we just weren't looking for it. It took me watching you all during the training today to finally piece it together. I'm sorry, Jules; if I'd known you were going to have this strong of a reaction, I never would have suggested to Ed that as a victim in that last scenario I should let myself get shot."

She didn't react to the news. Instead she chewed on her lower lip. "What does this mean though Sam? If I react to you in danger during a training exercise this way, then what's going to happen if something comes up during an actual hot call? I can't do this when lives on are the line and you can't guarantee something couldn't happen to you. Neither of us can."

"Knowing what's causing the reaction might help lessen it." Sam suggested. "After all, your nightmares have abated since we figured out what was triggering them."

Jules shifted slightly in his arms. Her nightmares really hadn't gotten much better. She was still having them nightly, more so since she'd asked him to leave than before. She wasn't ready to let him know that just yet. It was bad enough that he'd figured out why she was freaking out currently when she didn't even have a clue. There was no way she wanted to give him even more reason to worry about her.

"It doesn't make you weak, you know." Sam continued, his hand ghosting up and down Jules's back. "You care about what happens to others whether you know them or not. But if it's someone you care about, there's nothing you wouldn't do to keep them safe. I won't lie, it scares me that you would put your life at risk to protect me, but your passion is what makes you you."

Jules shook her head. She tried to step away from Sam but he refused to release his hold on her. She frowned. "Freaking out over a stupid training exercise is not who I am. Damn it, even from the grave Johnny is still wrecking havoc over my life."

"Don't beat yourself up, Jules. It's barely been a month since I was cleared to return to duty, two months since I was injured. I'd only been back a week when that stupid training was forced on us. A situation that had to remind you way too much of how I was injured in the first place. It's not going to always bother you this much."

Jules sniffled once more. "How can you be sure?"

Sam smiled down at her and kissed the tip of her nose. "Because I've been there. Right after you returned to duty after you were shot, I wanted to lock you in the command truck every call we went on to make sure nothing else happened to you."

Jules frowned. "We weren't even together still when I came back to the team."

Sam shrugged, his arms still firmly clasped around her. "Doesn't mean I stopped caring. The thing is, it took awhile but eventually I finally got past the worst of the fear. Although I'll never be truly comfortable with you being at risk. Give yourself some time."

"I don't remember you ever throwing me to the ground during training or anything like that. Though if you had, I probably would have just assumed it was because you felt like I sold us out in order to rejoin the team."

"We didn't have this kind of training going on right after you returned either, otherwise we might be having a different conversation. Seriously, Jules, don't sweat it. You proved today that you can push aside your feelings, your reactions, when it's important. No matter how upset you were when we got that call out, it never showed while we were on the scene. You handled yourself like the professional you are and you did your very best. No one could fault anything you did."

"I can. I mean, look at me, Sam, it was a freakin' training exercise and I'm still shaking like a leaf. I couldn't hold a gun steady right now if my life depended on it."

Sam tightened his hold on her, as if he held her tightly enough, it would fix everything. "Right now, you don't have to. Right now, you just have to cut yourself some slack. Right now, you don't have to be Super Jules; it's okay to be human for the moment."

Jules didn't reply. Instead she simply let her body go almost limp in Sam's embrace. Though it wasn't something that came easy for her, she allowed herself to simply soak in Sam's strength. The sound of his heart beating strong and healthy beneath her ear continued to drive the panic attack away.

Sam thought about leading Jules over to the couch. They would both be more comfortable curled up together on the sofa than standing like this in the middle of the living room. He didn't move, however, There was no way in hell he was going to risk losing this moment. He might not like the why it was occurring but, at the moment, nothing felt more right than holding her the way he was. He'd savor that time for as long as he could.

After what seemed like hours but was probably only minutes, he felt her lips brush against his bare chest. It took everything in him not to groan in ecstasy. Was she even aware what affect she had on him with a simple kiss?

Shifting her position, Jules rose up on her toes and wrapped her hands around the back of Sam's head. She applied just enough pressure to angle his head down so that their mouths could meet, not that he needed any encouragement to kiss her. When she finally pulled away, there was a hint of neediness and desperation in her eyes.

"Let's go upstairs."

There was no way Sam could even pretend not to know what she was suggesting. And there was nothing he wanted more. And yet, he couldn't help but wonder if it was really what she wanted. He took a step back so he could look her in the eye. "Are you sure?"

Her eyes never left his as she slowly nodded. "Positive. I don't want to question whether it's a good idea or not. I just know that right now it feels right. Please, Sam. I know I have no right considering everything…."

Sam silenced her with another kiss and then took her hand in his to lead her to the stairs. Almost with practiced ease, they stepped over the third step where Patches were curled up in his customary spot. The kitten lifted his head and gave a meow. It might have been his imagination, but it sounded to Sam like the kitten was saying 'bout time. A sentiment Sam agreed with whole-heartedly.

In the bedroom, Jules closed the door behind them as if she could close out the world just that easily. Then her hands were back on Sam, tugging at his jeans, just as desperate to rid him of those as she'd been to divest him of his shirt downstairs. Only her motive to get him out of his jeans was not sparked by some irrational fear of what might have happened in training but of desire. As his jeans fell to the floor, Sam toed out of his shoes and stepped out of the clothing as well. Then it was his turn to undress her as their mouths once more found each other.

In no time, their clothes were scattered on the floor. Sam gently lowered Jules to the bed before covering her with his own body. They didn't speak; each allowing their bodies to do all the talking. Breaking off his kiss, Sam leaned back just slightly, poised to slip inside Jules's warm and wet center. Though his body screamed at him not to question what they were doing, he had to make sure this was really what she wanted or needed. "Jules, if this isn't what you want…"

"Make love to me, Sam. Please."

Sam needed no other invitation. He entered her slowly. Once he'd filled her completely he paused, savoring the sensation. It didn't just feel exquisitely wonderful, it felt like he was finally home where he belonged. He scanned Jules's face and could read it in her eyes; she felt the same way. As good as it felt, he knew they both needed and wanted more. He slowly began to move inside her with slow gentle thrusts. It was sweet torture taking it so slow but he knew it was the only way he could make it last for them both.

Once more his mouth captured hers as their bodies moved in practiced unison. He kept one arm planted on the bed to help support his weight, but his other hand snaked between their bodies to cup her small, beautiful breast. As soon as his thumb flicked across her sensitive nipple the first time, he felt her stiffen. Immediately he removed his hand, silently cursing himself. He'd forgotten himself, let himself get caught up in the moment that he hadn't even considered if Jules would still be okay with this level of intimacy. He should have known that with everything that had been going on lately, there was a chance she'd backslide just a little. He should have anticipated it. He wouldn't make that mistake again. He opened his mouth, ready to apologize when he felt her hand grab his and return it to her breast. He looked her in the eye as if questioning her. She simply nodded that it was okay.

If it were possible, he'd make this lovemaking last all night long. However, he could feel his own climax building rapidly and he could see tell that Jules was close as well. No matter how much he wanted to prolong things so the pleasure would last longer, their bodies, which had been denied this type of release for too long, had other ideas.

Sam lowered his head, trailing kisses from her mouth, down her jaw to her neck, and then even lower. When his tongue flicked out, licking the nipple of her other breast, Jules's back arched upward and her legs wrapped themselves around him urging him deeper. "Yes. Sam, yes."

Sam blew warm air onto her breast and then swirled his tongue in circles around the sensitive area. Jules hissed and writhed in pleasure. When her breath became barely more than pants, Sam knew she was on the edge. With a couple of hard powerful thrusts, he fell over the precipice with her.

Sam twisted on the bed so that he was lying beside her. Once again her body was trembling but this time he knew it had nothing to do with fear or any sort of panic attack. He couldn't say anything because his body was shaking just as much. Jules wrapped her arms tightly around him and snuggled into his embrace. Sam pulled her in closer and kissed the top of her head.

He stared at a spot on the far wall as he waited for his breathing and heart rate to return to normal. He knew what he had to do and hoped she wouldn't fight him too much. "Jules, I'm not going back to the apartment. Not tonight, not tomorrow, not ever, not to stay at least. I get that there's something you are looking for and I don't want to get in the way of that. But I can't be away from you. It's just too damn hard. Please don't send me away again. I'll sleep in the spare bedroom but I can't just walk away again."

Jules chewed on her bottom lip before shaking her head. "No."