Jack sits comfortably in his rooftop seat as he tips a beer into his mouth and sighs harshly against the universe. At some point, even the universe is gonna have to admit that it's being too much, right? That dick, the Universe. He leans back in his seat and shrugs. He has experience with hope, but this recent shit is unbearable, when it feels like every new thing is against them. He thinks about Sam and how she'd just spent days lost to him on the Prometheus. He thinks about how he was weird when she woke up. Why was he like that?

It's the clatter of the makeshift ladder against his house that pulls him out of self pity as he hears a few quiet swears and a gentle grunt punctuating the sight of Sam pulling herself up onto the observation deck of Jack's house. She grumbles something he doesn't understand and drops into the seat next to him. "That ladder is not safe, sir," she sighs.

"Yeah," he agrees, smiling and handing her a beer. "I figure if I keep it difficult, it'll keep the worst people away from me." He sips his beer.

"Sir, please don't make jokes tonight, she says." Her eyes are pinned to his, deep dark blue holding his warm brown in a vice.

Jack sits there staring at the woman he knows is his soulmate but also that he's not allowed to love yet, and he decides to tell the truth. He smiles the softest smile he has, and even in the low light of the stars, she can see it. He knows she can see it because her eyes light up and she leans forward a little. They know each other.

"I thought you were dead, and I realized I didn't care if I was alive," he says, reaching for her hands.

"I hallucinated making out with you," she says.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Was I any good at it?"

She laughs. "It was my imagination, so you know you were," she says.

He presses his hand around the side of her face and pulls her head toward his. "Carter," he whispers. "I think we can do better than imagination, at least once," he says.

"As a treat?" she laughs, quietly.

"No giggling and no jokes tonight," he says, laughing quietly as he tugs her face closer to his over the telescope.

Sam leans into his hand and reaches out to wrap her arms around his body where she can reach, a hand on his sharp elbow and another against the side of his face.

He tugs her closer, and now their eyes have to cross to not meet each other. Their breath is mingled and their noses can bump.

"May I kiss you, Carter?" he asks.

"Yes, please," she says.

And then her whole world is just stars. He pushes his lips against hers, gently nudging and loving before wrapping around her plump lower lip and tugging it out. He presses his lips and teeth harder against that lower lip before dropping his tongue against it and tracing along the underside of her upper lip, dipping into her mouth, along her tongue and over the roof of her mouth, playing tag with her tongue and then simply kissing along her lower lip and the corners of her mouth just because he finally can. He runs his tongue along her upper lip again and pushes both of his lips against it just long enough to make an impression, then pulls away.

He feels her shudder against him and he smiles. "That okay," he asks?

"Sir…"

"That's how I can kiss you right now, Carter," he whispers, dropping another kiss on her lower lip, tugging it just barely. "But someday," he says, dropping a kiss on the side of her mouth, and Sam smiles at the wildness in his eyes.

"Promise?" she says.

"If you don't believe that kiss, Carter, I can't help you," he says, winking.

She does believe that kiss.