My bad on uploading the wrong chapter, I don't know what happened =/.

Author's Note: Okay, so in typical Flashpoint fashion this final scene should be read with an appropriate song playing in the background to set the tone. I really like it so if you want to play it in the background while you read then I highly recommend it. watch?v=4Fr5-16ZnPM

Jules finished buttoning up her shirt and happened to glance toward the mirror just as she did. She crossed the empty locker room and gazed into the mirror, studying the image she saw there. She could still feel the pain that boiled through the side of her face and it was ugly. Her left eye was barely more than a squint now as the swelling had gone up. The bruising had come too, now a darker coalition of purple, blue and black blots. Her lip was still split and dry.

She glanced around at the empty lockers surrounding her. The room was cavernous and at the moment monumentally lonely. During such times it was hard for Jules, she could feel the immense, cold room that surrounded her and felt lost or empty within its confines. It was an odd feeling to have because she loved her job and she loved this place, but as she fathomed what had been done to her she felt hurt and alone. She choked back those feelings, believing them to be toxic and destructive.

She rubbed her shoulder and the back of her neck, brushing aside some stray tendrils of hair. She remembered the bruising on her back after she leapt to save a young jumper that had slipped off the media tower at the local mall. She had smashed into the side of the building's structure with great force and it left her body battered as a result. But that was the job. It was also one of the first physical connections she and Sam had ever shared. She smiled at the thought.

Sam Braddock was the center of her universe, but she couldn't tell him that. He understood that she cared and they shared a special bond she thought was unique amongst couples. They understood each other in the sort of way people said kindred souls did, but she couldn't believe in such trifling romantic notions. The simple fact was that they both shared hardship and risked their lives and it was the common ground that they met on. The duality between Sam's immediate readiness to be a killer on the behalf of good and the soft, caring way in which he held her in the late hours of the night was what made him special to her. It was that unexplainable feeling in the pit of her stomach that she could not put into words. She wondered how long they could carry on their charade. And she questioned whether she could let go of a career she had strived for and worked so hard to attain for the man she loved so dearly. It was an unfair question to have to answer.

Suddenly there was a knock on the locker room door. "Come in," she advised.

Sam Braddock entered, clad in a t-shirt, jeans and a black military style coat he often wore. He approached with a sheepish demeanor, his hands tucked into his pockets, feeling awkward for the decision he had made earlier in the day. He wanted to explain, he had to explain, but for whatever reason he felt as if Jules would not accept that explanation.

Jules watched him intently. "Thank you… for today." Her lips parted slightly and a soft breath escaped. She felt her heart rate increase ever-so-slightly and giddiness welled up inside her. It was that feeling once more, the one she couldn't put words to that she experienced in his presence. She was almost nervous and felt like a puerile child for it. She had faced death and uncertainty, but facing those blue eyes always seemed like so much more.

He cracked a reluctant grin. It was not a happy one. He stopped short just in front of her. His loving blue eyes surveyed the damage Morrow had done to Jules' face and his expression contorted into a façade of regret. "Jules," he muttered softly. "I know you always said you don't need to be protected and that you don't want anyone to make exceptions for you or carry your weight, but I had to do what I did today."

Jules pressed her lips together tightly anticipating what he might say next. "I know," she offered quietly.

His hand reached out and traced the swollen bruises on the left side of her face. "When I saw you… when I saw what he had done—it broke my heart," he lamented. She knew it was true, she could see it in his eyes. "And I got mad and I ended it for him." He didn't know what else to say. He couldn't offer a better reason. Was it enough to justify taking another human being's life? He could only hope she would not judge him harshly for his decision. It would hurt, but she needed to know the truth of the matter.

She nodded; her eyes lowered toward the ground and then ran up the length of Sam's body. She closed the distance between them both and locked her fingers into his belt loops then tugged him closer. He leaned forward and their foreheads touched gently together. He gazed at her, bruises and all, with intense care and relief. Her eyes were still fixed toward the ground, but they slowly rose to meet with his. Their faces were close; they could feel one another's breath upon their skin. They hovered in the moment there, enjoying it for what it was, quietly basking in their proximity to one another.

Sam's gentle touch danced across her bruised skin down to her jawline then ran the length of her slender neck. She could feel his calloused fingertips upon her skin, tracing her collarbone gently. Then Sam pressed his lips against hers and they shared a kiss. It was not passionate in the sense of raw animalistic desire, but rather it was as if a longing had been sated. There was relief behind the act like the two of them had feared separation or the destruction of that special thing they shared. But it had somehow survived and they could celebrate it now—far away from probing eyes.

Their lips separated and Sam pulled back just enough to look Jules deeply in the eyes. They shared the gaze for a time, and then felt awkward for lingering too long. They both laughed bashfully. Neither of them was good at expressing emotion, it was a side-effect of their job and perhaps a reason why they both felt so comfortable in one another's arms. They enjoyed the cliché cheesiness of moments like these, even if it made them laugh and feel silly.

"I'm not going to let anyone take you from me, Jules," he told her seriously. "I'll do my job. I'll be a professional—I'll respect the priority of life… but if someone puts their hands on you like that…" his voice trailed off and he shook his head.

She nodded, understanding his innate need to protect her. That's what Sam was, a warrior and a guardian. He had joined the Army to fight for his country and to protect it and its people. And he had become a police officer seeking a purer, simpler form of that same urge. Neither of them was certain he had found it, but in this he had. It was easy to step forward on Jules' behalf. There was love there and it didn't matter whether Jules wanted, or needed the protection. Sam was always going to provide it. There was no questioning that. She could accept it, if not for her own sake then for his because she felt something real for him. Something she had never felt for anyone else. And she had to recognize that, even if she had doubts about the complex nature of their relationship she could not deny what she felt. To do so would be a mistake and she could not suffer another bad decision like the one that had led to their first separation.

She pecked him on the lips once more. "We should probably get going," she said. "The Goose waits for no man."

He smiled. "Yeah, I think I owe Spike a drink or two anyway."

"Why's that?" Jules asked with a perplex leer.

"Uh," Sam began hesitatingly. "I saw that woman biting him while he was trying to cuff the other one and…. I didn't help him."

Jules broke into a laugh at the thought of it. Sam felt guilty for it, that was obvious, but it was funny nonetheless. "Oh," she blurted and suddenly stopped and scampered over to her locker. "Almost forgot to give this back to you." She fished Sam's jacket out of the locker and held it up for Sam to grab.

Sam looked at the jacket and shook his head. "You wear it. It's cold outside," he told her and then he wrapped an arm around her shoulder as the two walked toward the locker room exit.

Sam may not have been the same as before the fateful accidental shooting of Katie Moore and there would be days yet to come where he might question his actions or vividly relive the moment that cost the young mother-to-be her life; yet the important thing for Sam now was the thorough understanding of how important he was to the team and the individuals that made up that team- especially Jules Callaghan.

The End! I hope you guys enjoyed this story and I really hope I could do the characters justice. I really want to thank everyone for their reviews as well as for reading through this sixty page short story lol. I was surprised at how easily this story flowed out of me, normally I run into blocks or lose inspiration but I was able to crank through this pretty quickly. I think I'll continue with some more Flashpoint content soon. Thanks again!