A/N: Well, I had one plan for this chapter...which didn't quite come together the way I wanted it to. And I'm still not wholly satisfied with it, but it'll do. I think most authors feel that way about anything they write. It's just a burden we have to bear... Anyway, sorry for the wait!

Sam Braddock was sneaky as hell. That was the conclusion Jules came to a week later as they ended a deceptively busy day by entering their usual café for coffee and a slice of frankfurter krantz. She'd become addicted to the buttercream-filled cake on the first day, but it felt like too much of a caloric indulgence to eat a whole slice by herself even with all the walking she was doing, so she split it with Sam. She hadn't even noticed it had become a thing with them until a sense of déjà vu hit her as she was perusing the café's offerings. She observed that the frankfurter krantz looked good tonight, lamented the fact that it would send her home so heavy it'd be a miracle if the plane were able to get off the ground, and Sam offered, rather gallantly, to share the treat with her. Same routine, new awareness.

When she thought about it, she hadn't even done as much walking as she thought he had. The kicker was she'd enjoyed herself so much that she couldn't really complain. They'd attended an annual film festival (a lot of sitting), a play at The English Theatre (more sitting), ridden a tour bus through the Altstadt, or Old City, District (even more sitting)…Yep, there was definitely a trend in the activities he suggested. Now, as they were claiming a table, he was talking about the chess rematch she'd supposedly promised him.

"Hold on, right there… I did not promise you a rematch. I didn't even offer you a rain check because I was never supposed to see you again."

"And now you have no excuse not to play me again, so it all works out. Unless you're worried you can't beat me again?"

Jules gave him a look that said 'really?', and then forked a bite of the cake. "You're a real glutton for punishment, Braddock. Either that or you're running out of ideas that keep me from moving around…"

Unbothered by having been found out, Sam scoffed. "Hardly. Although, what would you have said to a day cruise on The Main? I know you like the view from your room…"

"Okay, Braddock? Stop trying to handle me. I'm fine and I'm going to that day of the forest thing tomorrow," she said even as she decided it.

"You mean the wa…" He gestured for her to help him out.

Frowning, she tried to remember the proper name. "Waldche…eh…"

"Waldches…"

"Waldchestag," they said simultaneously, then shared a grin.

"Yeah, that," Sam said, which elicited a chuckle from Jules. "The real Waldchestag is Tuesday, so you might as well go then, and give me my rematch tomorrow.

After releasing a long, deliberately drawn-out sigh, Jules agreed. "Fine…you don't seriously think it'll take all day for me to defend my title, do you?"

"What title? You beat me once!"

"That's one more time than you beat me, isn't it?" she gloated, taking another bite of the cake.

Sam leveled a glare her way, then paused with his fork poised over the cake to frown. "You feeling okay?

"Peachy, why?" Jules asked before taking another bite.

"You gave in way too easily… Barely a peep about me practically setting the progress of women's independence back a couple centuries…" he deliberately exaggerated, "not insisting on not only going to the festival tomorrow, but hiking in the woods while you were out there…"

"God, I'm not that bad, am I? On second thought, don't answer that," she hurried to add when she got a look at the incredulous expression on his face. "Okay, so I have a tiny headache and don't feel like ripping you a new one tonight. Big deal."

"Yes, big deal…any dizziness? Nausea? Ringing in your ears?"

"I'm fine," she stressed. "Just be happy I'm not trying to scale the Berlin wall."

"You mean be happy you're not delirious and trying to scale a wall that isn't there? Trust me… I'm ecstatic. Really." His wisecrack earned him a kick to the shin underneath the table.

"What do you do with yourself when you're not trying to make damsels in distress out of people?" Jules lamented.

"I am not trying to…" He gave up, correctly interpreting her expression to read that he wasn't convincing her, and decided to answer her question instead. "Supposing I wasn't out in the field right now, I'd be beating Matt at chess—

"You and chess!" Jules cut in to tease.

"—or I'd be flipping a coin to see which one of us was playing the wingman tonight."

"Oh, so you're a bit of a ladies' man, huh?" Jules teased him.

He shrugged. "I guess you could say that."

She tilted her head to the side, considering him. "I could see it. Women fawning all over you, tripping over themselves to get you to buy them a drink. Can't see you needing a wingman, though," she added, nudging the plate more towards his side of the table to indicate she was done.

"Makes Matt feel special," he responding in a tone that suggested he was confiding a deep dark secret to her. "What about you? Would you want me to buy you a drink?"

It was her turn to shrug. "Well I don't fawn…or trip over my own two feet…but I suppose, in another life, I might be persuaded to allow you to buy me a drink."

Her wording of it made them both grin.

"Hey…I could be your wingman! You wouldn't even have to flip for it."

Sam scoffed. "No thanks."

"No, seriously, think about it. I pretend to be a total bitch that causes a scene and breaks up with you…you score when some chick takes pity on you. Simple, straightforward, easy to pull off.

Sam shook his head. "No."

"Why not?"

Good question. It'd be nice if he had a good answer for it. If any other friend, he supposed she wouldn't argue that label at this point, had made the same offer, he would have jumped at it. He tried to think of what made her special, and then concluded that it was more about him…and the version of himself that he was with her. The one who could kick back and relax without keeping an ear out for trouble. The one who was just Sam as opposed to General Braddock's distinguished JTF2 officer son. The one who didn't need a quick hookup to help him dismiss his surroundings for a little while. The one, he supposed, who was on vacation.

"I don't need a date," he answered honestly, even if it was an over-simplification. "Let's get you settled in for the night so you can take your pain meds."

"It's just a headache," Jules insisted. "It's already going away."

"Whatever you say…I just know you have something you can take if you're in pain," he returned as he pushed his chair back from the table and stood up.

Jules stood as well and they walked the short distance back to the hotel. All too soon, in Sam's opinion, he was standing alone in his hotel room, kicking off his boots. In all honesty, he felt like he could go all night just sitting around talking to Jules…something he didn't even do with Matt. Speaking of whom, he should be calling to touch bases any minute now. With impeccable timing, the phone on the nightstand rang shrilly. "Hey," Sam answered casually.

"Hey," Matt responded in a tone that made Sam stand to attention. "Have you been watching the news?"

"No, what happened?" Sam asked, looking around for the remote control.

"There was a breakout at the jail. Over a thousand freakin' prisoners escaped, including several hundred Taliban POWs."

Sam cursed under his breath. A swift retaliation was likely to be ordered and damned if he was letting his unit enter the fray without him. "I'll be there ASAP." He hung up and didn't delay in getting his stuff together. He was ready to go in under ten minutes. He was halfway down the hall when he heard a door open behind him.

"Sam?" Jules said uncertainly. He hadn't been particularly quiet in leaving and she'd thought he was just restless and going for a walk. That he might appreciate some company. Was he really just leaving without saying goodbye? The idea of it hurt more than it should.

He slowly turned around, guilt briefly flashing across his face for momentarily forgetting her in his single-mindedness. "I have to go, Jules, I'm sorry."

"Why? What happened? Gimme a sec and I'll get my—

"No. I can't tell you anything and you can't come with me."

Understanding dawned on her face. "You're going back to Afghanistan."

He neither confirmed nor denied her assertion. "I'm sorry," he said again. "Be safe, okay?"

"I keep telling you I can take care of myself," she reminded him, forcing some lightness into her voice even as she wondered whether she'd ever see him again. She probably wouldn't, a prospect she regretted.

He gave a quick nod before raising a hand in farewell.

Jules returned his wave even though it felt like they were already a thousand miles apart as opposed to a few feet. Re-entering her room after he disappeared, she thought about her house and the kitchen cabinets waiting to be replaced. She should probably get back home and take care of that. And the floor. She really wanted to get that tile up and replace it with wooden floorboards. Suddenly she had a whole host of things on her mind that needed tending to back home. Too much for her to be wasting her time with festivals and other touristy attractions.

"Sorry about the vacation," Matt said, falling into step with Sam, who was on his way to their quarters.

Sam shook his head, skipping the pleasantries. "What's happening?"

Accepting that his friend was unswervingly focused on the task at hand, Matt told him "We don't think the Taliban's going to try and hit the base. They made their point at the prison. Sarge says they started a pissing match with NATO, though. Briefing starts in 10. Perfect timing."

Sam scoffed and quickened his step so he could get rid of his bag before joining the rest of his unit in the briefing room. Shortly after that, they were deployed to a mountain town where a highly sought after war criminal was confirmed to be taking refuge.

As stealthy as their approach was, the insurgents had known they were coming and were lying in wait for them. That was the conclusion the unit came to when they noted the sentries posted mainly on the southern border of the town through long-range binoculars. They had been approaching from that direction.

Sam was tasked with leading a team in through the north while the rest of the group, approached as planned. He moved quickly with Matt once again falling in step beside him. This time, though, his friend was just as focused as he was and made no attempt at conversation. They had to be careful as well as quick if they were going to sync up with the rest of the guys in a timely fashion without getting waylaid by a landmine or whatever other nasty safeguards were in place throughout the city.

"It's too quiet," Sam remarked, his voice barely a whisper. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Matt's barely perceptible nod and their quick eyes scanned the dark windows. Deciding it was better to fall back and round the perimeter of the town as opposed to walking through it and getting trapped, Sam signaled for the team to retrace its steps.

They'd gone a few yards when something small and round whizzed through the air from the direction they had been heading in only moments ago. "Grenade!" someone shouted and they all scattered as it exploded.

Sam knew the tactic was meant more to cause panic so his team could be picked off one by one, and snapped out orders meant to keep the team focused while they made their way out of the deathtrap. He radioed his sergeant to inform him of what happened and what they were doing so he didn't lead the rest of the men into danger expecting backup. He heard a cry and saw Matt go down. He ran to his friend, and yanked him up. "Come on, we've gotta go now! Shake it off," he ordered as Matt leaned heavily against him, seemingly unable to carry his own weight, when Sam needed his friend to be able to walk on his own two feet.

"I can't, Sam! I can't feel my legs," he gasped.

Dread, cold and bone-numbing, slithered down Sam's spine. "Okay, all right, I'll carry you! The others can cover us."

"Sam…"

"Shut up."

"Sammy!"

"I said shut up!" Sam screamed, not about to just leave his best friend there because he was dead weight. They both knew what happened to captured soldiers. That it was worse than death. No, he wasn't leaving him behind to save his own ass.

"You're gonna get everybody else killed, damn it! If I'm going to die anyway, don't make me do it with that on my conscience. Just…do it now. You gotta do it now."

Sam shook his head, dragged Matt along a few yards, ignoring Matt's pleading for him to do what they both knew he had to do. He had to get his team out before they got boxed in if they were going to have a shot. He couldn't leave Matt to be captured.

"Sammy, please…"

A sound that was half snarl, half cry of distress erupted from Sam's throat and he stopped walking. The acknowledgement of what he had to do was almost overwhelming. It might have crippled him if he hadn't had other men counting on him for leadership. "I love you, man."

"See you on the other side, Sammy."

Absent-mindedly fingering the black king chess piece she'd found among her things when she was getting ready to leave the hotel, Jules pulled her rolling suitcase behind her as she approached the pick-up/drop-off area. As good as it felt to be back on her own turf, she was kind of already missing Germany. She wondered what Sam was doing…if he'd noticed his chess set was now incomplete…if he was safe. More than anything, she wondered if he was safe. She hoped he was. Even though she'd probably never see him again, the world was a better place for having Sam Braddock in it. Even if he was a pain in the ass.

"Julianna!"

Brought out of her reverie by the sound of her own name, Jules slipped the chess piece into her pocket, almost feeling guilty for some undefinable reason, and looked around for the source of the call. She rose on her tiptoes to see over a group of people walking across her line of vision and saw Steve waving to her. Grinning as she waved back, she dropped back down so her feet were planted on the ground and made her way over to where he was waiting by his car. "Hey," she greeted him happily as he leaned down to kiss her.

"God, I missed you!" he said when he lifted his head. "I want to hear everything."

"Everything?" she checked as he opened the door for her. She didn't particularly want to rehash what happened in the desert.

He rolled his eyes. "You know what I mean. How was your vacation? What'd you see? What'd you do?"

"You know, I am so jetlagged? I really want to crawl into bed and sleep for a little while. How's about you drop me off at home and we pick this up over dinner tomorrow?"

"Sounds like a plan to me. Now get in the car," he urged with a tilt of his head.

"Roger that," she laughed, sitting down so he could close the door.