TRUCE

Disclaimer: I don't own Flashpoint.

:: Takes place somewhere in Season 2, just shortly after they got together. Writing happy fics makes me happy. I hope they give us more happy-jammy-scenes!

"Come on, Jules, I never took you for someone who watched some mushy TV show with love triangles in it." Sam remarked, walking to the table in the secluded corner. Being involved with someone who was supposed to be only his teammate and friend, the window seat was out of question.

"Says someone who gets teary eyed watching Oprah." Jules shot back.

"There's a huge difference between seeing innocent dogs being put down to sleep and watching people sleep around and act like the world is one huge orgy. How did Keira talk you into watching that crap anyway?"

"It's my house, my television, my remote," she said. "Why don't you just go back to your place? Your apartment, your television, your remote. And I've seen you watch hockey before, Sam. You could get rather… violent when your team's losing."

"My TV broke," he grimaced, willing himself not to think about the unnecessary expanses. "I could go to Spike's, but he has been sprouting all day how her mom's cooking anchovy for dinner. I wouldn't want to hurt her poor feelings, she's a dear."

Jules snorted, fully aware of Sam's hate and hate relationship with the fishy dishes, no pun intended.

Sam put his tray on the table and pulled a chair for Jules before sliding into the one next to it. As most days, Jules ignored him and took a seat in front of him.

She could feel the dead weight of his eyes on her as she began to unwrap her food. She sighed. "If I was in the mood to be romantic, I'd say that I wanted to look deep into your eyes while talking to you. But I'm not, so just let me eat in peace and if I'm getting in the mood later, maybe we could play footsie."

"Very funny, Jules."

Jules chewed on her fries thoughtfully. "Good thing that we're both left-handed or I'll be elbowing you everytime I'm indulging you."

"Indulg-" he shook his head. "Geez, how kind of you Jules."

Chuckling, Jules licked a dollop of ketchup from her fingers. "All joking aside, I do prefer to see your face when we're conversing. Eye contacts matter to me."

"And when you're feeling romantic, you'd reach across and feed me while gazing into my eyes?" Sam couldn't hold himself and immediately felt a light kick on his shin.

"Save the snuggling for after dinner, Sam," Jules scolded, eyes shining with unhidden mirth. "And it's not like I'm going to let you kiss me after you eat that," she wrinkled her nose at his onions and chicken liver sandwich.

Sam lifted his eyebrows. "Who said anything about snuggling?"

"I thought-"

"Sitting face to face makes me feel like I am being interrogated," Sam answered, putting down his fork and leaned back, watching her face closely. "I enjoy cuddling with my girlfriend, sure, but more than that, I simply like knowing that we're sharing the same point of view, literally speaking. And in some ways, it's more intimate than having my hips attached to yours."

There was something about the almost tender way he was looking at her that made her squirm in her seat; like she was the only person in the world. She wasn't sure if she would ever get used to receiving all the attention. It was frustrating and wonderful at the same time, knowing that someone, not just someone, Sam Braddock, cared. And it was overwhelming sometimes.

Clearing her throat, Jules grabbed her drink and took a long sip; anything to distract her from his imploring blue eyes. "I am so hungry."

Sam barked out laughing and she could feel her neck grow red.

"Come here." He finally said after his laughter finally died down.

"Excuse me?"

Pushing his chair back, Sam reached across the table and grabbed her wrist, pulling her out of her chair. "What the hell are you doing?" She protested, hand twisting to escape his tight grip.

The blond sniper looked up at her with a mischievous smile and with a firm tug, she landed sideways on his lap.

"Sam!"

"Truce." He used his other hand to lock her in his embrace. If only the situation were different, it would have been sweet, romantic even, but Jules' death glare was impossible to miss.

"Seriously, Sam, let me go!" Jules was trying to wriggle free out of his grasp, but he held her even tighter. In normal situations, she would have no problems kicking his ass easily, but she's still smaller than him and the mini skirt he knew she wore on purpose to get a rise out of him - he'd admit that she had succeeded- definitely limited her moves. Sam failed to hide his smirk.

"This way I can hold you while you're looking into my eyes while we're talking. It's a win-win situation."

Jules mock huffed. "Very cute, Sam."

"Why, thank you, Jules."

She stopped fighting against him and inched her face closer to his until he could taste her minty breath. When she spoke, her voice was dripping with venom. "So it really was about snuggling and cuddling and being touchy-feely. I knew it."

"They're parts of it, yes," Sam didn't deny her accusation. He smiled before brushing a butterfly kiss over the side of her neck, amused when he felt her body shiver involuntarily at the affectionate contact.

"This is a family diner, Sam, you're going to make us get banned from here for ever." Jules hissed. Around them, people had begun to stare. Some of them appeared to be amused while the rest looked at them like they're committing public indecency. "I swear to God, if you don't let me go right this second I'll chop off your-"

"On one condition."

Jules shut her mouth, eyes narrowing into an angry glare. She had a feeling…

"I got to watch the game tonight."

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me! Are you threatening me?"

He patted her thigh. "No? Then fine, this is a perfect position for us to feed each other anyway-"

"Okay, okay, okay!" Jules finally gave in. He smiled. If only she knew how beautiful she looked when she was angry. "Whatever. My house, my television, your remote. Are we done here?"

Grinning in bravado, he pressed a firm kiss against her lips before releasing his arms from around her. She bolted and was back at her seat in a record time of less than 2 seconds.

"That was really, really low. Shame on you, Sam Braddock."

Sam picked up his half-eaten food. "If sitting face to face is really that important to you though, you could always straddle me or something…"

"Shut up, Sam."

He popped a fry into his mouth, grinning. Seemed like he's off to a wonderful evening.

Braddock 1 – Callaghan 0.

:)