The Right Side of the Bed
Disclaimer: I don't own Flashpoint.
A little fluffy Jammy drabble because I really need to start writing again.
:: Thanks to my beta, Trish!
After a long hot call, it was early evening by the time they left headquarters. Freshly showered and exhausted, they headed, by unspoken agreement, to Sam's apartment, simply because it was closer. They had a quick dinner of burritos and beers and headed for bed. By the time Sam left the bathroom, Jules had already crawled to her side of the bed and buried herself beneath the comforter.
Done with his business, Sam flicked off the light and quietly closed the bathroom door behind him, trapping the subtle scent of Jules' flowery shampoo and feminine assortment inside. He didn't mind; he loved that she felt comfortable enough to leave her stuff around and it made his modern, cold apartment feel more like home. That, and it was soothing to him when they each spent the nights in their respective places.
He smiled. Jules had her back to him, but he could tell from her posture that she was already deeply asleep. He also knew her well enough to know that were she not done for the night, she would be tossing and turning trying to find the one comfortable spot, all the while protesting the hard lumpy mattress he'd never gotten around to replacing.
Sam slipped under the covers and turned off the bedside lamp, leaving the room dark save for the glow of lights from the neighboring buildings. Sam scooted closer to Jules, brushing a hand over her dark hair and touching his lips to her exposed shoulder. As always, she was sleeping so close to the edge of the bed he was amazed she didn't end up on the floor. The first time he had seen it, he had been worried she would fall and hurt herself.
The temptation to wrap his arms around her was strong, but that would mean taking more than half of the bed. Jules would definitely not approve, especially in this very bed where she insisted on her space more than usual. So, Sam retreated to his half of the bed and laid on his side- his back facing hers.
He glanced at the digital clock on the nightstand, waiting. Three minutes had passed when he felt the bed creak with Jules' movement, heard the sound of her feet shuffling over the sheets before a warm body pressed against him. He looked back at the clock. Right on schedule.
Jules sighed in her sleep, rubbing her face against his bare back in an unconscious gesture and wound her arm around him, hooking her fingers around the waistband of his sweats. She murmured incoherently as she settled down once again, her breath evening out.
Tomorrow, as she always did, she would complain that the lumpy bed had rolled her to him, she being lighter than he was. This, before reciting the theory of gravitation that would make even Spike roll his eyes. And Sam, as he always did, would smile and agree with her assertions.
Jules might hate the bed, but it certainly had its moments and he had his own reasons for not replacing it.
I did say it was fluffy.