A/N: Alright. This took a long time to write because 1- I've been busy trying to find time to Work and Sleep and writing as fallen by the wayside a bit, and 2- it's hella long. 4379 words, actually. So, I guess you guys can be happy about that? It's totally a record for me, and don't get used to it. haha. this chapter is LONG and it was exhausting just to do the read through (i'm used to half this!) so I apologize for any spelling/grammar issues.

As always, thank you all for your reviews. :) They make me smile, more than cupcakes.

Enjoy :)

"Sam, wake up."

Her sudden interruption of his slumber shocks him. Paired with Noah's cries, it terrifies him. In one quick motion he's standing beside the bed, bewildered, eyes scanning the room for any indication of what's going on. "What's wrong?"

She huffs, nose cringes, eyes glare. "Airport." With that she's done with the conversation, frantically flipping through the closet in search of the right shoes. She picked out her entire outfit days before, but kept rethinking the shoes. He takes Noah from her, tries to get him to relax as she shows him these shoes and those shoes or maybe the ones she left downstairs. She's trying to go for appearance over practicality, since the idea of seeing her family again seems to have flipped some neurotic switch he never knew she had. He talks her out of the ones with all the zippers, since security is already a pain in the ass and they don't need the extra work just to take her shoes off. He leaves her to double check the suitcases while he dresses Noah for the day. He's been on plenty of planes, but never with a baby. So he dresses him the way he'd want to be dressed - layers. Layers him up so when he spits up they can just take off the sweater and bag it. So that if he gets too hot, or too cold during the flight they can just remove or reapply a layer of clothing. He's mildly disturbed at how he's thinking of his son's clothing needs as some sort of maintenance protocol, but it seems reasonable. Jules of course finds ways to throw wrenches in his plans as he tells her them from the nursery, demanding that everything match. He's meeting the Callaghans today and he damn well better look good. Because, you know, a 7 month old baby Braddock can look bad. It comes at him next. He's instructed on what to wear, which he easily agrees to. He doesn't mind being told what to wear - life with the General, and later the military, prepared him for that. It's what happens when they finally board the plane that he wasn't prepared for.

"Ten."

"Huh?" He shakes his head, wonders if maybe he tuned out the rest of her statement.

"When we argued about Christmas you asked how long it's been since I talked to my Dad. Its been ten years."

He nods, licks his lips. He's not sure what to say to that.

"Ten since I last spoke to him. Seven since he started sending the letters at Christmas."

"You're nervous."

"Of course I'm nervous. I mean really, after what happened last time, I agreed to it. Agreed to stay away, to cut ties. I still don't know why he sends letters. It makes no sense, it was his idea."

Sam nods to himself, eyes wide as they help each other into their seat belts while passing Noah back and forth between them. "This may be the wrong time to ask, but if you're this nervous, then why are we going?"

The airport is beyond crowded, as should be expected in the days before Christmas. The Braddocks land, quickly and efficiently making their way to baggage claim. It's been ten years since she's made the trip back but Jules knows her way around the airport like the back of her hand. Ten years and her father still meets her in the same place. Pausing mid-step she takes a deep breath, turning to Sam. He simply nods his support and they resume their pace.

Finally reaching her father, Jules gives a smile. "Hi."

"Hi." He's grinning, the same way he would grin when she'd come home from school for the holidays or from the spring break trip with a friend that he'd so badly tried to talk her out of. He's aged, ten years worth or maybe more, but he hasn't changed. He's wearing one of his signature plaid shirts, but she can tell he put some effort into his appearance today. Looks like he was as nervous as she was. "Good to see you."

"You too."

With that they cave and greet each other properly with a hug, awkward, but meaningful.

Pulling back, Jules takes a minute to study the man in front of her. She's not sure she ever realized how much she missed him. She enjoys the moment, reviewing the way his beard has changed shape over the years and the glasses that have changed shape from round to square. They give him the appearance of a young Santa Claus, an incredible improvement from the hillbilly look that used to plague him. He used to only wear them for reading, but they now appear to be necessary for everyday use. Another sign that he's aged. His eyebrows waggle and he clears his throat, ever so slightly nodding to her right. Breaking from her reverie she gives a nervous laugh, turning to pull Sam closer so she can take Noah from him. "Oh um, Dad this is Sam Braddock, Sam this is my Dad, Findlay Callaghan. And this," her grin widens as she turns to show her son to her father, "is Noah. Sorry about the drool, he's been asleep since we got into Alberta."

Her father smiles, nods. Shakes Sam's hand and tells him to call him Fin, makes some lame joke about Mr Callaghan being his father's name.

The ride to the house is appropriate. At least, that's how Sam would classify it. Sam sits in the back with Noah as Jules takes the passenger's seat. They make the small talk over how their flight was before getting filled in on who is already at the house and who should be arriving shortly. There's no discussion of the years lost, aside from a quick introduction to newer parts of town as they drive by.

The house is exactly as Jules had described. An old, but well kept, farmhouse, white with blue shutters with a wrap around porch, making it look like it was built from stereotypes and storybooks. The walkways, along with the lane way, have been neatly cleared of snow, which continues to fall all around them. On one side of the house sits a detached garage, where Jules had explained her father used to spend most of his days working on whatever project her mother would give him. Behind that of course was the barn, though it's blue, unlike the red Sam had expected from Jules' description.

He doesn't seem to be the only confused one though as he catches Jules' face contorting in confusion."You painted the barn?"

Her father sighs as he pulls into the lane way, giving his beard a quick rub. "Not exactly. That old thing burned down a few years back and when the new one went up that designer wife of your brother talked us into painting it to match the house."

Jules nodded, considered what he'd told her. Designer? "Doug and Sue got married?"

Fin gives a chuckle and a nod. "Oh yes they did. She even wanted to have the reception in the damn barn, something about wanting a country wedding. I said hell no to that idea. She levelled off quite a bit after that, got her senses back and agreed to have it in town. Now she actually does the books for the farm."

Jules shrugs, shakes her head as her father prepares to back the truck into the garage. "So why'd they even get married?"

"To make it legitimate?" Her father laughs, returns her shrug. "I don't know, you should ask," he adds with a wink.

Sam simply runs through his mental list of Jules' brothers to keep up and shakes his head. Could be a long visit. The truck comes to a stop and they pile out, Sam and Fin unloading the trunk as Jules tends to Noah who's been fussing since they first rolled into the 'hat. He's been so good all day, she's sure she should have seen it coming. With a sympathetic pout she tries to talk him down, cooing and praising him for his cooperation on the flight and subsequent car ride. As she settles him against her he relaxes and she figures he must just be glad to be out of the carseat. She and Sam follow as her father leads the way to the house, telling off Marty the sheepdog for barking as they begin the trek up the walkway to the door.

"Hey! Juli-Bean!"

With a shocked expression Jules whirls around in place. "What the- Quinn? !"

Sam smirks at the sight of the red haired man jogging towards the house. He finds Quinn on the list - Jules' brother closest to her in age, barely 2 years her senior - and makes an effort to pair the face to the name for later. It could come in handy.

As the man reaches the group he grins, huffs as he fights to catch his breath. "We've been out back hauling wood all morning. I was hoping we'd be done before you got here so I could tag along to pick you guys up but, well, you know Patrick." He smirks, tosses a look over his shoulder to his brother who gives an exaggerated wave in return.

"Hurry your ass!"

"In a minute!" Quinn rolls his eyes, turns back to Jules. "So, are you going to do introductions here or do I have to wait until dinner?"

Jules laughs, makes a mental note to improve her social skills since she's been missing the introduction cues all day. She quickly fills everyone in before smirking and looking over Quinn's shoulder. "I think Pat's about to have a cow back there."

The man snorts, following her gaze back to his impatient older brother. "Pfft, wouldn't be the first time something that big came out of his-"

He's interrupted by his father loudly clearing his throat. "That's enough. I thought you guys were going to drop off some of that wood at the Miles' house before dinner."

"Alright, alright, I get it. All work and no play. I assume I'll see you all for dinner?" He smiles when he gets both shrugs and nods from Sam and Jules, fighting back the urge to comment on his own ability to state the obvious. "Excellent. I've got some stories for both of you. Sam, she ever tell you about how she dropped my first born on her head?" Laughing, he expertly dodges Jules' swinging hand and runs off to join his brother. "I'll tell you about it later!"

Not everyone is there yet and the house is already packed. All at once Sam's bombarded with more Callaghans. There's Doug, Jules' eldest brother who brings along his wife Sue, who he's pretty sure Jules described as younger than her and a little too peppy to ever be a real Callaghan. Three young girls, all somewhere between 5 and 10 in age, come running by for quick hellos before dashing back up the stairs to play. After that he only bothers to connect faces to names, not bothering with who they are to Jules. He'll ask her later. It's a good ten minutes of hugs and introductions before it occurs to either of them to remove their jackets and boots. The crowd retreats to the kitchen as Doug tells them he has to get out to his truck to make sure the other two don't break anything loading the wood.

Relieved to have reached a moment of freedom from the mob, Jules tugs at the zipper on her jacket. Sam offers to hold Noah while she takes her coat and boots off, but Fin interrupts. "I can take him. You need to take your boots off too."

Keeping the shock mostly clear from her face, Jules hands her son off to her father who walks the baby into the living room. Sam watches as Jules keeps her attention on her Dad while she slips her boots off, her glee obvious as she hears the one sided conversation from the next room.

"Well now theres those eyes you've been hiding since we met… ow ow not Poppa's beard…"

Jules' heart melts as she hears her Dad embrace his title, turning wide eyed to Sam. He can only smile back, glad to see things are going fairly well so far. Following her into the living room he watches as her face once again turns to one of confusion. "Where's the tree?"

He stops talking to Noah to glare at his daughter, and Sam has to fight back the urge to smirk because it's the same glare Jules gives when he's said something stupid. "We haven't gotten it yet."

Jules seems to have missed the glare. "Oh. Was there a problem at the tree farm?"

"Oh Julianna," he sighs, strokes his beard after handing Noah back to her. "We can't get the tree until everyone is here to go together, or have you forgotten how we do things around here?" When her only reply is a somewhat ashamed shrug he moves the conversation along. "Brendan and his family are driving up today, so we'll probably go first thing tomorrow morning. Here, let me help you with your bags." With that they're off, up one set of stairs and then another until they find Jules' childhood bedroom. "Sorry about the junk in here. We renovated a couple rooms and had to use this for storage for a while. I would have cleared it out sooner had I known you were coming but time just wasn't on my side. But we did manage to clear enough space for your niece's old crib, so Noah should be comfortable."

Jules shakes her head, noticing the framed pictures leaning against the walls of the room. "Thank you, and Dad don't worry, it's just a few pictures. But I did call over a month ago… that's hardly short notice."

The older man sighs, moves a few pictures out of the way for them before moving back to the doorway. "I guess I just didn't think you'd actually come until you called to say which flight you'd be on." He shrugs, clears his throat. "Anyway, I'll let you guys get settled in. Dinner is at five so feel free to take your time. And Sam, I hope you like chili."

"I smell like plane," Sam groans, tossing his t-shirt aside. He barely waits for her expression to change before he picks it off of the floor. "Yes ok, no clothes on the floor here either. Let me take him. I'll get him to sleep if you want to get changed or something," he tells her, beginning to pace while rocking Noah.

She shrugs, removing her sweater and jeans in favour of track pants and a t-shirt. "Would you be terribly offended if I fell asleep? Like, right now?"

He smirks, pressing a kiss to Noah's forehead. "Not at all." Slowing his movements he takes a minute to study one of the pictures leaning against the wall. The brown hair and brown eyes hold more than just a genetic similarity. It's almost creepy. "Is that your mom?"

Jules shifts in bed so she can see the picture in question. She grins as she realizes it's her parents' wedding picture. "Yep. Do you know I think that's the only time she managed to get my Dad into a suit?"

Sam smirks, recalls the stereotypical farmer who greeted them at the airport. "Yeah, he doesn't seem like much of a suit person." He shoots her a self-satisfied grin as he realizes Noah is already drifting off to sleep before turning back to the picture. "She's gorgeous, your mom."

She smiles, nods.

"You look just like her." With that he turns to settle Noah in the crib, pausing to sneak a peak at the blush he knows has crept across his wife's cheeks.

She wakes up alone, momentarily confused. Since when do she and Sam have pink sheets? Its enough to push the fog away and remind her where she is. She's guessing Sam wasn't nearly as tired as she was - after all, he did sleep in until the last minute before their flight - and found his way downstairs. From the sounds of things her brother Brendan has arrived and is busy telling the world's loudest story downstairs. She's sure nobody needed to know about his genius short cut to one of the lesser travelled highways, or the elderly man relieving himself on the side of the road they saw as a result. She just hopes all the kids are far away - like outside or in China - where they won't hear him.

It suddenly occurs to her that if Sam isn't in the bedroom with her, then he must be downstairs. A twinge of fear runs through her bones as she imagines what kind of hell her brothers must be unleashing on him. Or worse, what her father could be saying to him. She quickly changes back into her jeans and sweater and makes her way to the hallway. From the top step she's able to see a portion of the living room, and has to smile. Instead of being badgered with questions Sam is sharing in the laughter drawn by her brother's ranting as he shows one of her nieces how to hold Noah. Wanting to enjoy the sight a moment longer, she takes a seat on the step, leaning on the railing the same way she would when she spied on her brothers as a child.

"Not feeling social?"

She nearly jumps at her father's sudden presence behind her, smirking as she remembers his longstanding talent to move silently through the house and catch his children in whatever foolish act they were committing. "I'll go in a minute."

He nods, finds room to sit next to her on the stair. "I've got to say I was surprised to get a call from you."

She nods slowly, unsure of what to say next.

"I was even more surprised to see your phone listed as Braddock. You changed your name for that boy."

She shrugs, only slightly annoyed in the way he's referring to Sam as that boy. "Thought it would be weird not to."

"You have a child with that boy."

She sighs, prays that this conversation isn't building towards some kind of argument. "That boy is my husband, Dad, and his name is Sam."

Her father nods, watching the room below them, not turning to look at her as he says, "I know. Sam Braddock. And you're Jules Braddock. And you two work together."

"Yeah, we do. Both on team one. Well, technically I'm off for another 5 months but," she shakes her head, doesn't bother to finish the thought. "I negotiate, and Sam-" She pauses, wonders if she should continue considering the last time they talked about her work it resulted in a ten year rift.

"He's a sniper. Used to be army. He tells me you two were cleared to continue your relationship by the chief of police himself."

She turns wide eyed to her father, shocked at his knowledge. "What, um, when did…"

"You slept for a long time, kid."

Jules nods to herself, quietly wondering what else they might have discussed but not wanting to ask.

"'He good to you?"

"What? Dad, how can you even ask that?" When she's met with a stern glare that tells her he won't leave without a proper answer. "Of course he is."

He nods, groans at his aching muscles as he stands. "Well then, now that that's settled. How about dinner?"

The Callaghans are an exhausting bunch. Always talking, bickering, laughing. Never waiting for their turn to talk, simply throwing in their two cents wherever they want, regardless of whether anyone else is talking. In the two hours it took them to find a Christmas tree, Sam managed to catch up on a detailed history of hay bail mishaps, every boy Jules was ever caught crushing on in elementary school, and what he's decided to assume are exaggerated tales involving worms and fishing poles. It's exactly how he'd imagined Jules' family would be.

Settling into bed he sets an alarm on his phone - the one which will ultimately be deemed useless as Jules' nieces provide an early morning alert for the entire house upon finding evidence of Santa's visit - and reviews their plans for the next day. Somewhat foolishly, they've spread themselves a little thin. Christmas morning will consist of breakfast, stockings, and family gift exchange with the Callaghans before they board a plane back to Ontario where they'll have dinner and more gifts with the Braddocks. Sam's glad there'll be two baby crazy Braddock women there who'll be jumping at the chance to spend some time with Noah because he's fairly certain that after a long flight and a turkey dinner both he and Jules will be out-cold on the couch. With a smirk he sets his phone on the night stand and simply watches as Jules returns from the shower and begins to run a brush through her still wet hair. He takes a minute to study her because he can't be sure of what's happening. Her eyes are red, and he wonders if maybe she got shampoo in them. And maybe her cheeks are only wet from her dripping hair and not because she-

"Jules?"

She hiccups, turns to look at him with a lost expression. "Why is it like this?"

"What do you mean?"

She shakes her head, sets the brush down on the dresser and sits on the bed to face him. "It's so… normal. Everyone is so fine with me being here and it's just… it's been ten years since I came home and it's like… Why are they so happy that I'm here?"

His brow furrows and he stares at her in confusion as he brushes a tear away for her. "Why wouldn't they be? Jules, you're his daughter, their sister. Why would they be anything but happy to have you here?"

She shakes her head, rubs at her eyes with frustration as she wills the tears to stop. "Because it's been ten years. Sam, I kept in touch with Quinn and Brendan, mostly because they both live far enough away from Dad that I could visit without running into him, but even then I've barely spoken to either of them in the past few years. And everyone else just got shut out of my life along with Dad, just because we're both too stubborn to listen to each other. Doug and Patrick both… there were weddings and birthdays and Christmases… God Sam I just missed so much and now they're all so happy to have me here that it's like I abandoned them…"

"What? Jules, come here," he shakes his head, pulling her closer to lean against him. "You didn't abandon anybody. You guys had a falling out and you both needed to be ready before you could come back here. You can't blame yourself for needing time. And they're happy to have you here because you're their family, and that's what family does - they're happy to be around each other, and they know there's no use in holding junk like lost time against each other," he sighs, tries not to see the contradiction between what he's saying and how he's been behaving.

With a sniffle Jules gives a small nod and moves to join him under the blankets. They sit in silence for a few minutes before she tilts her head up to look at him. "Did you have fun today?"

He smiles, nods. "I've never done the cut your own tree thing before. You guys do that every year?"

She nods. "For as long as I can remember. Dad couldn't care less if we had a real tree or not, but Mom was always insistent on it. She claimed it had to do with the smell, but I'm pretty sure she just liked to torture us by packing us into snowsuits and sticking us in the car for an hour. Either way, after Mom died Dad became insistent on it as a tradition and continued it." She pauses, shrugs with a smile. "Wait, so where did the Braddocks get their tree then? Did you guys just take the cheaters way out like you and I have been and just buy one from outside the grocery store?"

He sighs, brushing her bangs out of her eyes as he leans further into the pillows. "We always had a fake tree. No one really had the time or the patience to go into the woods and bicker over which one was the right width and height. Decorating though, that was another story. You'd miss out on dessert all Christmas vacation if you didn't help decorate the tree."

Jules gives a small laugh, smiles as she settles down further into his arms. "Sounds like your Mom had some strict traditions too."

He shakes his head, smirks to himself. "No, actually," he pauses to think for a moment, as if his own words are about to surprise him. "That was The General's thing. Mom always wanted to make it look like one of those matchy trees in the stores, but Dad insisted she let us kids do all the decorating. I'd try to make sure there were even amounts of balls and bows in each part of the tree. But then there was Natalie… that girl sure liked her tinsel."

Jules lets out a chuckle, grinning at the thought of the Braddock children bickering over how to decorate. "She ruin your design?"

"Oh you bet. I'd have it all perfectly arranged and in she'd come with that bag of sparkly nonsense and suddenly it would look like Santa had thrown up on our tree. It wasn't the worst part though, Dad had a tendency to pick out the ugliest tree topper the store had to offer and once it went on there was to be no changes to the design." He smirks, rolls his eyes.

"Sounds like a fun time."

"Yeah… Yeah it was."

A/N: Oh yeah, so nearly 5000 words and we only got through like 2 days with the Callaghans. That would mean the next chapter is at the Braddocks... that could be interesting, hmmm?