Lemon Jam

A/N: Don't Own. Minor Spoilers of misc. early episodes. This is JAM and will quickly become Lemon JAM: sweet, tart, and very tangy. It is for JAM lovers and if that isn't you just skip right over it. Just a warning, this story starts off with a T rating, Chapter 2 moves to a T/M rating, and the story will become progressively more adult. This particular fandom seems to be more sensitive to M/M+ rated material than others I write for and as a writer new to this group, I will respect that. By Ch 4, I will update on an adult fan fiction website (see my profile when the time comes). Those that choose to follow the story will be able to set alerts there for future chapters. It's adult for a reason folks. I'm adhering to the site guidelines, don't hate me for it. Update (8/14/11) This story has now been changed to an M rating. The story without edits is located on AO3- see my profile for my homepage. Even M rated, later chapters have been edited for content for

She's a killer queen

Gunpowder, gelatin

Dynamite with a laser beam

Guaranteed to blow your mind

Anytime.

Killer Queen, Queen

Sam had never had a job he liked quite a much as this one. He got to shoot things, wear the cool pants, make a difference, and see Julianna Callaghan for at least twelve hours every day. The shifts flew by. There were obstacle courses, practice shooting drills (with live ammo which made it even better), hostage negotiation, warrant squads, and gun calls, along with so much more. But as busy as that kept him, and the team, that wasn't what made the time go so quickly. It was that when the time was up, if the team wasn't going out for a beer after shift, he wouldn't see her again until the start of the next shift. The hours between dragged. He felt like half his life was lived at maximum warp and the other was at impulse control, limping along.

He remembered meeting her his first day, if one would call it meeting. There were no introductions and she'd pulled a gun on him. Actually, the whole team had pulled guns. It had been a memorable beginning. He'd been cocky and made some comment about girl snipers and then strutted, he shook his head in disbelief as he remembered, strutted away. Yeah. Great first impression.

After that day, it had taken weeks for her to begin to talk to him like a team member and not some arrogant SOB that had been forced on them, on her. Then he blew it again. He asked her out for a burrito and a beer after work. She politely turned him down and he acted like a cad- pretended like it was 'just a burrito and a beer' and she'd made way too much of it, embarrassing her. Of course, she'd been right; it had been an offer of more. He'd rarely ever been turned down and never by someone he really wanted to be with so he responded defensively, making it sound like she was making a big deal out of nothing.

But then everything changed. He remembered the exact moment. He'd banged into her dressing room without thinking, finding her in a towel, still wet from a shower, water droplets clinging to her soft skin.

He'd stopped suddenly, stumbling over words he couldn't find…all but incoherent, her standing there in disbelief.

"Sam?"

She said his name in a soft voice, her breath catching in surprise. Not like when they were on shift and it was all go-go-go, focus on the bad guys and not getting killed, but woman to man, surprised, naked woman to yearning man.

Sorry was all he managed to say until he found his own breath again, trying to calm his now speeding heart.

"It was a long four seconds until I, we, knew you were ok."

She hadn't missed the slip, but didn't comment.

"And I'm ok."

"You hit that beam really hard."

"And I'm ok."

Sam looked at her, and ache, a need to protect her, a need to comfort her showed in his deep blue eyes. He was so transparent around her. Where once she thought him cocky and entitled, arrogant and foolish, now she saw it was just a veneer hiding his vulnerability, a vulnerability that was unique to her.

"You want a second opinion?" he asked, expecting to once again be rejected, but unable to help himself. A word, a look, a touch, that was all he needed, all he wanted to know she was alright. And he needed to know that she really was safe, that she was alive, that she hadn't fallen to her death before him two hours earlier. This would be one more thing to add to his endless stream of nightmares.

Jules paused, considering and then she licked her lips and turned her back to him, letting the towel drop from her back slowly, letting him see the now dark purple and black bruise forming over her back and shoulder.

He moved within inches of her, close enough she could feel his body heat, smell the hot minty breath of freshly brushed teeth drying her damp skin. She slid her wet hair from her neck over her shoulder leaving the nape of her neck and shoulder bare to his gaze, giving him access.

His finger bent as he ran it bit by bit from where her bruise started at the base of her neck, across her shoulder blade to where the bruise disappeared under her arm. Jules could swear her heart had stopped beating for what seemed eternity as he stroked her skin. If she had lifted her arm ever slightly he could have continued his caress onto her breast.

When he released her, they both stood silently not daring to move, afraid to break the spell that had just been cast. If it had been possible, there would have been sparks of electricity shooting from her warm soft body to his rough calloused finger. Even the air in the room seemed sucked out and it became hard to breathe for them both.

That moment shifted their world. No longer was he the smug overconfident ass and her the dismissive career- focused woman. He was a man, The Man, and she was a woman, The Woman, and nothing would ever be the same.

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