Sam's suggestion wrought even more protestations from the team.

"Why would we leave her with you?" Rolie demanded.

"We don't even know you," Ed practically bellowed.

"Man, get out of here," Wordy dismissed.

"Are you nuts?" Lew wanted to know.

"Jules would never let this guy babysit her," Spike predicted.

Remarks similar to these flew back and forth until Greg decided enough was enough and that it was time to corral his team. "Guys! Guys! We can't just stay here with her, we've got a job to do," he pointed out even though he was loathing the idea of having to leave Jules behind himself. "You…uh…" he tried to place a name on the blond-haired soldier.

"Sam Braddock," Sam supplied.

"Braddock. You swear you'll see her on a plane on her way back to Canada?"

"Yes, Sir, I do," he promised.

"Fine. Next flight out, we're heading home," Greg said firmly, eyeing every man on his team before turning his attention back to Sam. "This better not be a mistake or so help me…"

"I swear…I'll put her on a plane heading home as soon as possible."

This statement got a few chuckles out of Spike and Lew. Even the others traded amused glances, Sam observed, wondering what had brought about the lightened mood. It was over quickly, and they all went back to glaring at him as Greg said in a no-nonsense tone of voice, "Just make sure she gets home."

The men marched past him to check on their friend, and Matt stepped forward to talk to his. "Uh…what did you just get yourself into?"

"No clue, man, no clue," Sam responded apprehensively.

When Jules woke in the weehours of the morning, the overhead lights of the ICU were off, but the bedside lamps beside the beds were on. She took in the unfamiliar, almost alien, surroundings and panicked a little because she had no idea where she was. She didn't even realize there was a hand on hers until it tightened when she shifted. She eyed the hand, then followed it up to the face of its owner, who was sleeping with his head propped up on his other palm, which in turn was supported by the elbow resting on the bed. She blinked at him for a moment, taking in his handsome features for a moment before she shouted, "Who the hell are you?"

He was on his feet in an instant and, somewhere in the back of her mind, she had to grudgingly admire his reflexes. "You're awake."

"I think all of Kandahar could attest to that," a British-accented male voice remarked dryly as he entered the ward. "If you could kindly refrain from yelling, I'd like to examine you. Do you know where you are?"

"No," Jules responded forcefully out of wariness.

"NATO Role 3 Medical Unit at Kandahar Airfield…your transport rolled over an IED."

Watching her face, Sam could see the moment when she registered the full meaning of what the doctor was telling her. It was when her expression settled into one of abject horror. "My team…"

"Fine, more or less. Two deaths, though. Not them," he hastened to add. "They were both stationed here."

"Where are they?" Jules demanded. "My team."

Here, Sam decided to step in. "They had to take the prisoner you guys came for back to Toronto. None of their injuries precluded travel."

"Oh." A mask slid over her expression, but not before Sam caught there there-and-gone look in her eyes that seemed to say, "They really just left me here?" He decided not to acknowledge it because he was pretty sure she wouldn't appreciate knowing someone had witnessed a chink in her armor before she could cover it up.

"Let's get down to business, shall we? I'm Dr. Simon Hill, the neurosurgeon on staff—"

"Neurosurgeon? I had surgery on my head?" Jules demanded, her hand immediately flying to her head in search of evidence.

"No, and I don't think you'll need it if you keep responding to medication the way you are. Rather resilient little chit, aren't you?" Dr. Hill remarked.

Jules's eyes darkened in annoyance at his condescending tone. Sam suggested, "Maybe you should just get the exam over with." He didn't think the doctor's presence was good for her blood pressure, and he didn't want to have to explain to her team why her transfer out of Afghanistan was delayed.

"Right, let's do that."

Sam stepped back into the shadows to give them some semblance of privacy even as he wondered why he didn't just go sleep in the bed he rarely got an opportunity to sleep in. Matt had point out his odd behavior earlier when he' barely paid attention to the game they'd watched thanks to this very doctor. His mind had been on Jules, wondering if she'd wake up fearful and confused…if she'd need him. Which logic said she wouldn't seeing as she didn't even know him, and yet…he'd ended up keeping watch over her anyway. Rationalizing that he'd offered to look out for her and he wasn't one to half-ass any task he took on.

Simon left after declaring she was stable enough for travel, and Sam sat back down.

"You—"

"Sam."

"—tell me everything," Jules ordered as if he hadn't interrupted. Sam complied, telling her what happened. His voice was even and remained steady when he mentioned the deaths, but Jules saw past that. "You knew them. The men who died. Who were they?"

Wondering why she cared, he said anyway, "Cal Jones and Vernon Parsons. Cal was supposed to go home to the states next week."

"I'm sorry." She sounded like she meant it and he gave a curt nod.

"You should get some rest. Night."

"Goodnight," she responded softly as he quickly made his exit.

The next morning Jules was pleased to learn there was a flight to Landstuhl, Germany scheduled for that night and that she was going to be on it. It put her one step closer to heading home and back to work. She wanted to call and touch bases with her team, as well as Steve, but she learned that phones for long-distance calls weren't that easy to come by. The hospital's satellite phone was reserved for official use and the payphone located down the road usually had a line so long she wasn't likely to get a turn before it was time to go…if she'd even have been allowed to make the trek. Not that she didn't try. She tried. She just didn't get far before the head nurse caught her and put her back in the bed.

She was still seething when Sam sauntered in with a chess set tucked under his arm around noon. He'd spent the morning calling in favors to secure permission for him to take a little personal leave so he could follow her to Germany. "I hear you're trying to give the staff fits," he remarked, sitting down and setting up the board.

"Well, if they'd be a little more cooperative, we wouldn't have much of an issue," she countered. "What are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?"

"Getting ready to play chess against yourself."

Sam scoffed. "What? You got something better to do?"

"Don't you?" she retorted.

"Not really. You want to play or not?"

She glared at him, then made the first move. "Why are you spending so much time with me?"

"I told your team I'd keep an eye on you," he replied, eyes glued intently to the board as he decided on a strategy and moved one of his pieces forward.

"You didn't need to do that. I don't need a babysitter," she informed him irritably.

"Never said you did," he muttered, eyes still glued to the board.

"It was implied," Jules insisted, intent on having the last word. "Who are you, anyway?"

"Sam Braddock."

"No, I mean what do you do out here?"

His eyes flicked up to glance at her momentarily before returning to the board. "Special forces. JTF2."

"Impressive," she acknowledged as she took his queen. She grinned at his immediate frown. He stared at the faint dimple in her cheek. "What?"

"How the hell did you do that?"

She smirked. "If you weren't just thinking tactical and paying attention to me, who might be as good as I am."

"You do that a lot, don't you? Paying attention to people."

"It's part of my job. If we didn't look at the humanity in subjects and find a place where we can empathize with them, we wouldn't be SRU."

"Does a person's humanity matter after he pulls out a gun and shoots somebody in cold blood?" Sam asked.

"Yeah. It does. Game's not over, yet, Braddock. Make your move."

After she finished beating him, Sam declared, "Next time, you are so going down."

"There won't be a next time. I'm leaving soon."

"So am I."

Jules frowned. "With me?"

Sam nodded.

Jules shook her head. "I told you, I don't need a babysitter!"

"And I told your team I'd make sure you got home okay. Besides, I had some leave coming," he lied.

"Bull! You…I don't need you following me around!"

"Maybe I just want to go to Germany."

"Yeah, right." She gave him a scathing look.

"You always need to get the last word in, don't you?" Sam shook his head. God she was stubborn. "Look, you're a woman…" He pressed on when she started sputtering angrily, "...and you're recovering from some serious injuries."

"I'm not some china doll. If I didn't want to pull my stitches, I'd kick your ass!"

He looked like he wanted to laugh. "Yeah, okay. I'm sure you'd like to…"

"I could."

"…but I'm still going with you. You're stuck with me until you're back on Canadian soil, which will be what? A few more days?"

"Really, Sarge? A month?" Jules asked to make sure. She was settled in at Landstuhl Medical Center and the first call she'd made was to Greg, who had informed her that Team One was being forced to take some time off after what happened and that they were going back to work in a month.

"It'll give everybody some time to heal," Greg reasoned, even though he didn't sound too happy about it either.

"I don't need time, I'm ready now!"

Unnoticed or unacknowledged, he wasn't sure which one, Sam scoffed from the spot on the wall he was leaning against. Jules tossed him a withering glare. He stuck his tongue out at her. She rolled her eyes and looked away before he could make her laugh.

"Famous last words. Prove it in a month and you'll be my Sierra One. Eddie's leg is going to take a while to heal."

Jules let out a silent 'Yes!' before asking, "Who'd run tactical?"

"Rolie, of course. Listen, Jules, I know you said you don't need to recover…" She could practically hear him rolling his eyes over her boast. "…please do yourself a favor and relax. Don't push yourself too hard."

"You got it, Sarge. Bye. Oh! Sarge? Hang on!"

"Yeah, Jules? I'm still here."

"About Sam Braddock…"

"Jules…"

"Sarge… Tell him to go home. Or back to the desert, whatever. Just away from me."

"It would set our minds at ease if you…"

Her groan drowned out the rest of his sentence. "No way, Sarge, I don't need him!"

"I know you don't, but…"

"Never mind…I'll see you when I get back." She could practically feel one of those megawatt grins on the back of her neck. "I need to call my fiancé, do you mind?"

"Nope."

She looked at him pointedly. "Go away."

"Oh, you mean you wanted privacy? Why didn't you just say so?" He didn't know why he got such a kick out of provoking her, but he did. He decided to go find something to eat while she made her call since he wasn't particularly eager to hear her whisper sweet nothings in some faceless (for him, at least) guy's ear.

She waited for him to leave before dialing Steve's number. "Steve, hey. It's me."

"Jules, thank God. Do you know how worried I was about you?"

"I can imagine. I just wanted to let you know I'm okay. I'm at Landstuhl now and I'm sure I'll be ready to head home in a few days. I have some time off. Maybe we can get away for a little while." It was either that or press on with renovations on the house. She wanted to get it done before they got married so she really should do the latter, but it was going to take some manual labor and she could do with a little R&R.

"Sorry, Sweetheart, I can't right now. Remember, I'm saving up my time off for the honeymoon. Speaking of which, this isn't going to interfere with that, is it?"

"No, I don't think so. I'll check with my boss when I get back. I really don't have a choice, though. They took my team off rotation for a month."

"We'll work it out. And hey…if you're feeling up to it, do a little sight-seeing while you're there. Check out the castle. I'm pretty sure Frankfurt isn't that far from Landstuhl. You know you're just going to come home and work on the house, so you might as well stop to smell the roses first."

Jules smiled slightly. He knew her so well. It came with the package when you got engaged to your high school sweetheart. "I'll think about it. Bye."

"Love you."

"Me, too."