A/N: Hey sorry, I've been super busy; buying stuff cause I leave for university next week :) Anyways here is the next chapter ENJOY!

Disclaimer: I do not own Flashpoint…Unfortunately! But bless Stephanie and Mark for creating it.

Chapter 3: Hostage

Acadia Restaurant, 7:00 P.M.

Jules had been a hostage before; she remembered her and Steve's disastrous date to his favorite restaurant about a year and a half ago. Now it was her brothers that were held with her, her flesh and blood. She felt her hand move almost unconsciously to her stomach as though the gesture would protect her unborn baby. She checked her watch; they had barely been in there for ten minutes. Why then, did it seem like a lifetime?

Protect. It was the only word flashing though mind as soon as she heard the gun fire. She couldn't however just think of herself. It was her day off, but she was first and foremost a cop, she had been trained to protect the innocent. No matter what her personal feelings of the situation were she needed to calm down and analyze the situation as she would any other.

Connect. Respect. Protect. That was her goal, not to protect herself, but the frightened people around her, along with her brothers, along with the subject himself. Jules steeled herself for the danger coming through the doors. She took out a pen from her bag (checking on the loaded gun inside as well), took a napkin from the table and wrote, "I'm a cop. Calm down. Let me handle this. Please". She couldn't risk the subject overhearing her say she was a cop, it could escalate the situation too quickly. She looked up at the people that had taken refuge in the room with her, along with her brothers, and a handful of the guests from the high school reunion next door (who seemed to be the subject's targets, since he targeted their specific room). She handed the napkin to her brother Robert, who read it, nodded in understanding, and then he proceeded to pass it around among the guests. She knew she needed them to understand that interfering would only agitate him worse; she needed to isolate him and get him to open up to her. She could hear him banging against the wall in the room next door, he was getting the keys to all the doors from the manager's office, someone said.

Jules peeked out at the front door; the subject had placed a homemade bomb at the front stoop. From where she was standing it looked like a small amount of movement to the wires could activate it; one step in the wrong place could blow everything apart. CRAP. At least Spike had given them all impromptu bomb lessons last week; she knew she had to get close enough to disarm it. Even if she could, the room the subject was in had clear glass doors; it was the perfect place for him to see every inch of the restaurant. DOUBLE CRAP.

"Are you the cop?" someone whispered to her left. A woman of about 23, red hair and blue eyes, sat down near her on the floor. It seemed as though her message had gotten around to the entire room; everyone had seemingly calmed down slightly, now that they knew there was an armed cop among them.

"Yes, I am. My name is Jules." She answered, trying to be reassuring.

"Help us please. I don't want to die. We don't know what we did to make him so angry!" Tears filled her eyes, her hands shaking violently.

"Alright, it's okay. I will. I will help. Everyone just needs to stay calm, and not interfere; the slightest agitation could make it worse. Do you understand?"

"Mmm-hmm, yes." The woman replied tearfully.

"Mr. Miller always did have a bit of a temper. My name is Hannah, by the way, Hannah Spencer." She told her, flashing her nametag in front of Jules' eyes, which had her name and the word "Pediatrician" underneath.

"You know him?" Jules asked, interested. A connection to the subject is what she needed right now.

"Yes. He's our classmate's dad, her name is Grace Miller. He just showed up and started yelling at everyone, waving the gun around. He shot Raoul! He SHOT him! Oh God! He's dead! He didn't -HIC- do anything to him!" Hannah shook harder. Jules motioned for her ex-classmates to take care of her, and made her way to her brothers. David was trying to make a call from the phone in the room, Robert was nervously chewing on the edge of a breadstick, and Jon was tapping his foot incessantly.

"You guys alright?" she inquired.

"Oh yeah, sure. You know this is exactly what we wanted when came to visit. Being held hostage at a restaurant, it really gives you a feel for the place, Jules!" Robert responded sarcastically.

David nudged him with his elbow, shaking his head at him to shut up. Jonathan sighed heavily then said," Hey, where's Adam?"

David cursed," Shit, he went to restroom! Probably didn't hear anything, those freaking things are soundproof. I went earlier, couldn't hear anything from the outside".

Jules looked at the corner Adam had disappeared around. She hoped he got out soon; otherwise he would be on the other side of the subject when he finally reappeared, and not the good side.

"Damn that bastard! He cut the phone lines!" David cursed again, slamming the phone into the receiver angrily. He rubbed his face with his hands, like he always did when he was agitated.

Jules put her hand on his shoulder, and said," Just let me handle it alright? Please."

"NO. Absolutely not, Jules!" Jon replied.

"Don't even think about it!" David agreed.

"No, that is not an option! AT ALL!" Rob said shaking his head in earnest.

"No! You have to let me do this. I NEED to do this. It's my job; I've trained for situations like this! So stop being such protective babies and shut it!" Jules responded to all three of them furiously.

She stood up, her back to them, and made her way over to Hannah and her friends again.

"Hello again Hannah. You said that you know the subj- I mean, Mr. Miller?" Jules asked her, "How do you know him apart from his daughter Grace? Anything will help. Please. Even if it doesn't seem important to you, it is to me. I need to understand everything, every possible angle. Don't leave anything out."

Hannah cast wary looks at her friends. One of them, African-American and medium build across from her said to Hannah, "Tell her. It could help us, Hannah. We'll help you too, to answer the questions. Go on; tell the cop why Mr. Miller's gone crazy." His nametag identified him as Connor Oakley, a real estate agent. He looked around at his ex-classmates until finally they all nodded in agreement.

"This is about Grace. I'm sure it is. She was my best friend." Hannah whispered brokenly.

"Grace? Why is this about Grace?" Jules asked, "Is she here today, did he come looking for her about something?"

Hannah exhaled slowly, and then said, "No. He didn't come looking for Grace. Because Grace is dead. She died a year ago today". Hannah burst into tears again as heavy footsteps sounded and the room's door burst open at last.

A/N: Hey, hope you liked it. I promise I'll try to finish this story before I go back to school next week. Are the chapters too short? Would you guys like me to write longer chapters? Please, any criticism is advisable Did any of you think Mr. Miller's daughter died in high school accident perhaps? Ha, nope, it seemed too cliché to me….so I changed my mind…any guesses now?