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It's been a long time since Jack had any kids underfoot to plan Christmas for. While he always got Cassie a present, it had been up to Janet to actually play Santa. He'd barely been home for Charlie's Christmases but the few times he had been, it'd been wonderful.

And now he gets to play Santa for his own kids, though he doesn't know them that well yet. He and Carter had decided to give them things that were mostly edible and homemade since she'd told him everything store-bought would disappear after the New Year. It would be hard on a kid to lose their toys and Jack agreed.

Still, there's plenty to set up and lay beneath the tree and he's still stuck under there when he hears footsteps behind him. Uh oh. He hopes it isn't William and he tries to carefully back out, hitting his head on a lower branch in the attempt.

"Uh, buddy? Are you out of bed?"

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Jack opens the card, appreciating the little hockey-playing penguin and whistles lowly when he sees the boat. It's just a little rowboat, barely past dinghy status, but he appreciates the sentiment all the same.

"You got me a boat? And here I was thinking the jewelry was too much. Thanks, Carter. Really."

"I thought you might like it for fishing," Sam says. That is, if it sticks around after New York is gone. And if not, maybe they can work on building one.

"Well, yeah. I can catch a hell of a lot bigger with this baby." Jack wants, desperately, to kiss her both as a thank you for the boat and because she's Carter and he loves her, but he refrains. It's probably the worst idea in a whole list of potential bad ideas.

"Thanks, Carter. I would...shit. You know I want to kiss you, right?"

Or, well, he can also do that.

"I know," she says, because there are times, like now, when she feels the same, even though she doesn't know how she feels about anything else. There are times, like now, when she wants to kiss him more than anything, but doesn't know if she could do it without thinking of the other him, which doesn't seem fair to this him.

"It's just...you know, I want to thank you. Not that this is the only reason to kiss you but it's up there right this second," Jack admits. He traces his finger along the lip of his beer bottle.

"Sorry. Shouldn't have mentioned it."

"No," she says. "Don't be sorry." It's an impulse that makes her lean in and brush her lips against his--the need to see what it's like to kiss him, the need to know how she feels--and it's restrained, because she doesn't want to offer more than she's certain she can give. But in that moment, she just needs to kiss him.

Jack has never actually kissed Carter before outside of time loops and it's so unexpected now that he flounders a little with what to do. He finally settles on cupping her shoulders with his hands and letting the kiss deepen just a bit before pulling away.

"No mistletoe or anything? Just wanted to kiss me?"

"Just wanted to kiss you," she says softly. She's still thinking about how that felt--it felt like Jack, and also different, and she's not sure it didn't feel a little like cheating but it felt good, too, and she's still trying to reconcile those two things.

"It was...nice. Different than how I imagined it," Jack admits quietly. He doesn't necessarily think that's a bad thing.

"It's nice to have a basis in actual reality for something I've thought about as much as that."

"Maybe..." she says, about to suggest that they try it again--just to see--but she decides doing is better than suggesting, and she leans in to kiss him again, her palm cupping his cheek as her lips touch his. She's still holding back a little, because her confusion hasn't eased, but her need to kiss him hasn't yet been satisfied.

Jack is a little surprised about the kiss and he kisses her back with a little more heat than the first time. His hands slide around her and hold her a little closer and it's just...it's a hell of a lot better than nice.

There's more of a spark here than before and he likes it.

There's a lot of a spark there, more than Sam was prepared for, and it sends a shiver she can't suppress down her spine and along what feels like every inch of her skin. "Jack," she murmurs, lips still brushing his and it's almost like a kiss again, more of a breath than a word. Her heart is racing almost as fast as her thoughts and she's never been this conflicted.

"Love you," he manages, his mouth brushing against hers because it's so close. Still, it's dangerous territory and he tries to get himself together before he goes too far.

The last thing he wants is to scare her off.

This is so complicated, she thinks, and her fingers curl against his cheek. She can't say I love you in return, and not because she doesn't--oh, she does--and she feels like anything she does say will feel like a slap in the face to him. She doesn't want that.

"Think I need to turn in for the night," Jack says quietly. It's still earlyish but he's been getting up before dawn for half his life and he doesn't see it stopping any time soon.

"We'll be up early with the kids, right?"

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