When Jon woke up in Sam's hotel bed, the first thing that came to his mind was that she loved him. She had said it! He could still hear her voice, low, gentle, certain. Sam Carter was in love with him. He thought about waking her up to make her say it again and smiled. No. Of course he wouldn't do that. Then something else came to his mind and he sobered. He had come here with a mission. Well, a question. There had been a reason he had lingered at her door, not sure how to bring it up. When she had opened the door and looked at him with longing and passion in her eyes he'd allowed himself to be distracted, but now he remembered. And his earlier joy was dulled. For this he had to wake her up, it couldn't wait any longer. After taking one last look at her sweet sleeping face he closed his eyes and kissed her cheek. He knew it would be enough to wake her.
"Hey", she slurred and moved into him.
"Hey yourself", he murmered against her ear. "Sorry to wake you. But I need to talk to you."
This sounded serious. Sam was awake in an instant, looking him straight in the eye.
"About what?"
"I got my assignment yesterday."
He searched her face for a clue, trying to assess if she knew. But her face was blank, she was simply looking at him, waiting for him to go on. He dropped his eyes and drew a deep breath.
"It's the Deadalus."
When he looked at her again she was beaming.
"That's amazing!"
She sobered at the obvious lack of enthusiasm in his eyes.
"I thought you'd love it", she said hesitantly.
He got up from the bed and stood at the window, looking out over the town.
"So it's true. You orchestrated it. Pulling some strings, were you?"
It felt like a punch to her stomach. She got up, too, and stood behind him. Close, but not touching.
"No, Jon, I didn't. I knew it was an option, but I swear I didn't know you'd get it until you told me."
He turned.
"You swear?"
"Yes, Jon. I swear. You got that assignment because you're good."
He let out a breath and started to smile.
"So that means I can take it."
"If you want?"
"Are you kidding me? Of course I want it!"
She was smiling now, too, and took a small step to close the distance.
"And yet you would not have taken it if I'd had a hand in it?"
"I'm not sure."
"You're a proud man, Jon O'Neill."
She brought up her hand and stroked his cheek.
"I like that."
She stretched the tiny bit that he was taller than her and kissed him, full, passionate, and he pulled her close against his body and kissed her back, completely satisfied with himself and the world for the moment.