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[ninjaofnaps]

Accurate!

I feel called out hehe

[ninjaofnaps]

Through the Star Field for You

OK! Here is my first attempt at fanfiction. Hopefully, it's enjoyable. I'm using it to warm up and dust off my writing skills. I also posted this on A03

I've enjoyed reading all the great fanfictions out there from people like @aislingdmdt @eridanidreams @bearlytolerant @spookyspecterino

I'm definitely looking for prompts, so feel free to send any my way.

Through the Star Field for You

The blackness gradually faded as she heard indistinct voices, far-off sounding as if from the other end of a tunnel. Where was she? The world was fuzzy as she tried to open her eyes. Oh wow, that was a mistake; her head hurt. Actually, her whole friggin body hurt. Where was she? The voices became intelligible, and Ves closed her eyes again, trying to focus on their words through the pain.

"And this new Dusty was the miner you sent in there?" a lilting English woman's accent.

A stronger female voice clips back, "No, that is not the new Dusty I sent in there. That's what I'm trying to tell you. My Dusty went in, and when we lost communication with him, we went to see what happened and found… her."

There was a pause, like the woman with the accent was trying to understand what had just been said. In the background, Ves heard a faint clicking and beeping of what she thought to be medical equipment. "So let me understand this. You're saying you let a new miner go in there to dig up the priceless artifact Barrett hired you to look for. You left him alone, and when you saw fit to finally check on him, he wasn't there, but she was? Have you found the other miner? Is that Argos suit she's wearing the same one the miner wore? You have to understand how utterly bizarre this sounds, correct?"

A sigh of exasperation from the other woman before, "I know how crazy this sounds; I wouldn't believe it if I hadn't seen it myself. The new Dusy went in after the thing, "artifact," whatever, that Barrett wanted. We lost coms, went to see what happened, and the Dusty was gone! She was lying there in the Dusty's suit with that odd metal thing in her hand, out cold. So we called Barrett."

"So you lost your miner and could have lost the artifact in the process? Why was a miner in training looking for an item of this value to begin with? Could you be more incompetent? Exactly what kind of outfit are you running here?"

A deep male voice jumps in. "Hey guys, calm down. We'll get answers soon enough. Her vitals are shifting, Sarah. It looks like she's waking up."

Ves blinked and opened her eyes one at a time; her sight was clearer now but still not normal. A man in a spacesuit without a helmet creeps into her vision, "Hey there, sleeping beauty. How ya feelin'?"

"Everything hurts, but I'm alive, I think. Where am I? Who are you?"

The man's face splits into an award-winning smile as he says, "I'm Barrett, and you're on Vectera. Let's start with something simple. What's your name, and how'd you end up on this rock?"

Vectera? Ves has no idea what country that is and blinks dumbly at him, replying, "I'm a U.S. citizen." The curiosity in his eyes deepened as he pushed for more specifics. "The U.S? I think you really must have bumped your head in there. I think you mean U.C. as in United Colonies?" With a touch of exasperation, Ves responded, "No, I mean U.S., I'm a United States Citizen. I've never heard of the United Colonies. I was in South America on an archeology field project, a new temple discovered underground in Sama, Peru. I assume you're with search and rescue? There must have been a cave-in or something. I remember reaching for an object in the temple when things just went…" Ves trailed off, trying to make sense of the things she remembered, the lights, the sounds, the feeling like she'd been pulled through the universe, but the pain in her head increased the more she tried.

His dark complexion paled a bit as shock registered on his features, and he glanced over in the direction of the female voices she'd heard. With tentative concern lighting his eyes, he turned back to her and asked, "What year is it?" She slowly, painfully sat up and responded, "It's 2025, obviously." Her response met silence. The air hung with a hint of mystery, as if her words had woven an unexpected thread into the room's atmosphere. Using a hand to shade her eyes from the glaring overhead light, she glanced around; Ves noticed 3 people besides Barrett staring at her like she'd grown an extra head. "What?" She asked.

The shorter blonde woman with the English accent spoke, her stern expression softening a bit, "Barrett, have you given her a Med Pack yet? She may actually have taken a blow to the head in there. Let's try that before we ask her any more questions. "

Before applying the Med Pack, he asked if she would be okay with it, explaining that the medicine within the pack would help ease and heal any pain or injuries her body might be experiencing. Hesitant, she weighed her confusion with the current situation against the throbbing ache in her head. Eventually, her body's discomfort won out, a sense of uneasy surrender creeping in. It surprised her that she was willing to trust these people at all; it must be the bizarre circumstances that demanded a level of acceptance from her she wasn't usually willing to give.

In a flash, the Med Pack chased away any lingering pain and fatigue, leaving Ves wondering what exactly was in that little injector and if it was addictive. Feeling better than she had in years, she was torn from her internal thoughts by the stiff blonde woman; she thought Barrett had called her Sarah, who repeated the question about the year. Annoyance flared in Ves to this stupid line of questioning. Just as she began to respond, a sudden commotion erupted outside. The distant sounds of people yelling, a popping that sounded like gunshots, and chaos filled the air. Before worry could take seed in Ves, someone burst into the room shouting in a panicked voice, "Lin, the Crimson Fleet is here!"

Things happened so fast; it was all a blur to Ves. Everyone was racing to put on their helmets and started arming themselves. Vest jolted as a helmet was shoved into her hands; looking up, she saw Barrett giving her a smile that could charm the skin off a snake. Grabbing a pistol and holding it up, he asked, "Know how to use one of these?" She nodded a yes, and his smile grew as he said, "Good. Feel up to a little firefight? Those are pirates out there, and they aren't exactly known for taking prisoners." Pursing her lips, Ves looked at the gun again, then responded, "I've never been one to shy away from danger." "Good," he said, handing her the pistol and an extra clip. She checked to make sure it was locked and loaded before grabbing his arm. She pointed at the helmet and said, "I'll need help with this, though." Laughing, he mumbled something about her definitely not being from this time because even a 5-year-old knows how to get a spacesuit helmet on.

As the airlock door swung open into the dark night of an industrial setting, she stepped out into the heart of chaos. Instinct took over as she ducked into cover, her fingers quickly assessing the grip's texture and the gun's weight. Adrenaline kicked in, and she was in motion in a heartbeat, responding to the threat with an innate fluidity that felt almost meditative. Without thought, she swiftly dispatched three pirates, moving with a practiced killer's precision and skill. Swiftly sliding from one cover and rolling to another, making critical shots as she did. By the time she'd made it halfway across the platform, she managed to pick up a combat knife by sneaking up behind an unwitting pirate, grabbing the knife from his thigh sheath, and using his own weapon against him in a swift, fluid motion that spoke of ruthless efficiency. He was dead before he knew she was there and before his body even hit the ground. The edges blurred for her as she seamlessly incapacitated one adversary after another, dropping spent weapons and picking up new ones as she went. The actions seemed strangely natural, like she'd done this before, been in this exact situation before. Movement and survival overtook her until there was nothing but an eerie silence. In the aftermath, a mix of shock and disgust at the skill she didn't know she possessed overtook her as she stood there, gun in hand. The red-clad bodies of the Crimson Fleet littered the tarmac before her.

The silence was palpable as people came out from their cover, all eyes on her. Ves felt strangely embarrassed as the last of the adrenaline left her body. Barrett and Sarah approached her. The skin near his eyes crinkled in a knowing smile as he glanced at the gun in her hand, then back at her, saying, "Boy, you weren't kidding when you said you could use that. I knew I sensed something special in you when I saw you. And I think we may just be seeing the tip of the iceberg." Sarah looked less thrilled and more cautious than before. "Where did you learn how to do that? Ex-military?" Ves shook her head no. "I… I'm not really sure. I learned self-defense and guns a bit over time. I mean, I travel for work, to remote places as a woman alone. It always seemed smart to know a bit of self-defense." Looking back at the bodies, she said, stumbling over her words, "But… this… I, I didn't know I could do this." A slight tremor started in her hands as she dropped the gun she was holding. "We need to get you somewhere safe before figuring out exactly who or what you are. I say we head back to Constellation and get you some rest and a medical workup before we figure all this out." Numb to the overwhelming situation at hand, you nodded your acquiescence. A brief conversation with Barrett and Sarah followed; the former decided to stay behind and assist Lin, who seemed to be in charge of the mining camp, with the remnants of the pirate attack.

Questioning her reality, Ves followed Sarah to the ship. A starship. Her mind stumbled across the thought as she tried to believe what she was seeing, a fucking starship? Directing her to a cot on board the small ship, Sarah advised her to get some sleep on their short trip. Clumisly removing her helmet and stumbling out of the space suit, she collapsed into the cot, squeezing her eyes shut against the tumbling thoughts. When Ves finally opened her eyes, her breath hitched. Directly above her was a window out into the star field. A swirling mass of galaxies on an endless black highlighted with greys, twinkling whites, strokes of soft blues, and pinks that twirled in an infinite pattern that could only have been crafted by a master artist's hand. She'd only ever seen photos from NASA like this, yet here it was before her, real as could be and more beautiful than she ever imagined. As the soothing darkness of sleep overtook her, the last thoughts drifting through her head were of the frightening and extraordinary reality she had found herself in.

[ninjaofnaps]

In Focus

heyyy first new thing actually posted in... a very very long time. might be a one-shot, might be part of a longer series, I have not decided yet but this little fluff stands on its own!

fandom: Starfield

relationship: Sam Coe x f!spacefarer

tags: mutual pining, idiots in love, canon-typical violence, fluff, angst, love confessions, hurt/comfort, and there's even only one bed! but no smut. (yet.)

on ao3 here, 2720 words. Might contain main quest spoilers, but it's fairly vague and focuses on their relationship. inspired by my current playthrough, between the Short Sighted and No Sudden Moves missions in the main quest line.

In Focus

The encounter with the Starborn had not gone… well. You attempted diplomacy only to receive a blast of plasma to the head. When you finally dock the Star Eagle at The Eye, all you can really do is slump in the pilot’s chair, relieved but too exhausted to move.

—

“Look, Cora- she’s back,” the sight of the black and purple ship, docked seemingly upside down, finally lifts Sam’s spirits. He was worried, very worried, when she’d gone to Iota temple alone. He knows she's more than capable, and Sarah was incredibly insistent everyone stay on The Eye to help with upgrades. When she gave him that crooked smile and joked that she'd try to not become radioactive but no guarantees, he'd just huffed a laugh, looked down at the floor and back up only in time to see the air lock hiss shut behind her.

Damn it, why does she run everywhere?

"I'm so excited to see what she can do now!!" Cora bounces lightly on her heels, pressing her face up against the transparent tunnel of The Eye's semicircular observation deck. Given the orientation of the ship, all either can see are lights on in the cockpit, but no clear view of their Captain.

Cora waves in the general direction anyway, and they continue to wait for her to exit the ship.

Sam slightly angles his head at motion behind him, it is a little odd for almost everyone to be on The Eye at once, but there's work to be done if they are going to find more artifacts and temples.

With a gentle dip of his head in greeting, Sam raises his arm, checking his watch.

Barrett reads the frown on his face, offering a light-hearted joke. "She's probably trying to get the quantum essence off of her suit," he chuckles, lightly clapping Sam's shoulder as he passes by. "She's still alive in there, right VASCO?" his voice gets fainter in the distance as he turns the corner. 

"I will perform a scan," VASCO responds, his programming still sometimes failing to distinguish between genuine inquiry and joke. "The Captain's vital signs are... stable. Consciousness... intermittent." Barrett's steps abruptly come to a halt as Sam's feet begin moving toward the air lock.

"Cora, please go see if you can help Vlad," his hand is grasping the door handle, masking its trembling. 

"Is the Captain going to be ok, VASCO?" Cora is smart enough to know the robot can't lie to her.

"Some injuries sustained, but prognosis good," the air lock hissing open almost drowns out VASCO's response.

"I'll go help her, will let you know if I need backup," Barrett nods in response to Sam, extending an arm to gesture Cora back into the control room of The Eye.

Sam doesn't even use the ladder, simply opting to drop between floors on the ship. Having once had his own, Sam is more than familiar with the layout of the Star Eagle, but every additional corner he has to turn to get to her has his ire spiking, heart drumming in his chest. When he finally reaches the main bay and has a straight line of sight to the cockpit, his heart drops and he picks up into a run.

---

The docking maneuver took the very last of your focus and energy and you're still in the pilot's chair, slumped forward. It's less painful than sitting up, but your bent and battered armor digs into the suit in ways that will just add more bruises to the overall count.

A bluish blast of what you can only guess to be a small piece of the freakin Sun melted your comms, so you have no way to try to message for help. You figure you'll either sleep in the chair and regain some of your energy, or at some point someone will show up. 

When it's the soles of Sam's boots you hear running toward you and skidding to a stop, your heart both lifts and twists in your chest. He's the person you most wanted to see, but also the last person you want to see you like this. It's a small comfort to not hear the lighter steps of Cora right on his heels.

You have the energy for the smallest of smiles when you hear him mutter something that sounds very close to ashta fucker under his breath, his hands gently propping you up, leaning the seat back so you can sit up without having to support yourself. You hope he saw it through the small clear window of your xenowarfare helmet. You'd gone into this battle as well-prepared as you could be, and that you're coming home this bludgeoned anyway is alarming. 

His hands quickly work the helmet release latches open. You wince when the dried blood on your face cracks and separates as the padding pulls away from your forehead.

When you crack open your eyes, wincing at the light, they take a moment to focus. It's only a relief to see his face and you're almost able to smile but you think even your facial muscles must be bruised, too.

He produces a wrench from his back pocket, sheer luck he had it on him after working on The Eye, swearing again as he tries to open the mangled coupling lock at your waist. It's only then that you realize how lucky you are the integrity of your suit wasn't compromised in the fight.

Finally, Sam is able to pry the fastening open, worry on his face as he realizes he needs you to put your arms up to slide the wrecked suit over your head.

You grit your teeth, nodding once in understanding, raising your arms as high as you can. Sucking in a sharp breath, you hiss. "Do it," you muster the energy to reach up as he nods and quickly lifts. It's mostly his effort that gets your arms the rest of the way up, and he's mercifully quick about it. 

You stifle the gasp of pain down to a single huff, biting your lip. Sam casts a dark look at the upper portion of the suit once it's off and he's set it aside. You can only guess what he's seeing, so you try to explain. 

"I tried the gravity push thing, but kind of forgot Newton's Third Law," you look down at your arms, the bruises and cuts you felt now visible. "Tossed them like Chunks in a trebuchet, but slammed myself against a rock, too."

You're lucky your boost pack didn't explode, but neither you nor Sam says it aloud.

Sam is about to reach for your hands when he hesitates. "Can you get up?"

"I don't know," you shake your head, looking down and taking in your bloodied tank top, the bashed armor plates on the lower half of your suit. Jesus. 

"The impact broke the suit's built-in med pack injector, don't have much left in me," you're almost apologetic, expecting rebuke but Sam just nods, heading toward the cargo hold access. 

He returns with an emergency med pack, quickly and unceremoniously pressing it to your shoulder and hitting the button. You gasp lightly as the medicine hits your system, a vague memory of some vaccination years ago flitting through your mind. Your body finally begins to relax as you feel some energy returning, internal bleeding stopping, lacerations knitting back together.

"Thank you," you murmur, feeling much better even after just a few seconds. Modern medicine might never cease to amaze you.

"Up we get," Sam holds his hands out and you take them, gingerly stepping from the chair. Without the top to hold them up, your suit pants fall, tangling around your legs and sending you tripping forward into Sam.

"Easy, there," his chuckle is strained but he easily catches you, only slightly stepping back when you collide into him.

It's almost like a hug so you just lean into it, resting your head against his chest and groaning partly in pain, partly in frustration. You aren't used to being anything less than a strong, badass Freestar Ranger, and it's frustrating.

When you let go of his hands and wrap your arms around his waist, you feel him slightly stiffen before he relaxes again, returning the embrace, hands strong but gentle on your sore back. In all your travels together, you've never really hugged before, and for a moment you wonder why. 

Facing down enemies you weren't sure you'd be able to defeat had gotten you thinking, and thinking very quickly. You'd found yourself praying you'd just get to see him again and it was a revelatory moment to say the least. 

"I don't know how we're going to do it, but let's get you upstairs," Sam's voice breaks through your thoughts and you let go, abruptly self-conscious and lightly blushing.

"I think I can manage, now," your gaze drops to the floor, taking in the ruined armor, wondering if maybe you can call in a favor with Hadrian for another suit. You gingerly step around it, accepting Sam's hand for stability when offered. 

"I'll follow, in case you need a push," he jokes at the base of the ladder, averting his gaze so he's not watching your ass ascending above him.

"If you've been looking for an excuse to grab my butt, this is the moment," you're lucky you're facing away from him so he can't see the blushing panic on your face that you actually just said that out loud. You decide to check later whether emergency packs are known to reduce inhibitions.

Sam's sudden, startled laugh sets him to coughing, and for once, the man has no witty response. 

You're slowly padding around the Captain's quarters, gathering clean clothes and a towel so you can take a shower, when Sam softly clears his throat.

"I'll just... wait here," you aren't sure but it certainly looks like there's a blush on his face.

"As you wish," there's a smirk on your face as his smile drops into a stunned expression and you slide the shower door closed.

The hot water helps to relax your muscles, but your stomach is tightening as your brain decides to do instant replay of the day's events. They were almost taunting you, pointing out how alone you were. Repeating that you were doomed, you never should have resisted just letting the Starborn have the artifacts. They laughed when you suggested learning from each other. Your speculation earlier with Sarah was correct: they are in no mood to work together.

"You ok in there?" Sam manages to save you again, his voice pulling you back out of your thoughts. He's told you that your words have been a great comfort to him, but you don't think you've ever told him how much you love just hearing his voice over your comm system.

"Yeah," you gasp, finally realizing you were hyperventilating. "Just... remembering." You take as deep a breath as the sharp pain in your ribs will allow before tilting your head back into the spray, rinsing out the conditioner. Based on your long conversations while out exploring, you know he understands.

When you exit the small bathroom, clean and hair dried and wearing your coziest flannel nightdress, Sam is setting a plate of latkes on the small table.

"Barrett made these for lunch today, thought you might be hungry," that little smile on his face is going to be--has already been--your undoing. "Or hangry," he adds.

"I could eat an entire ashta," you groan, gratefully digging in.

"They're kind of gamey," Sam replies, after some thought. "Surprisingly not a lot of meat, the hide's much more useful. People might be more keen if they were worth the risk." 

"Fair 'nuff," you manage around a mouthful of delicious fried potato.

When you're done, Sam disposes of your plate and gives your bed a quick glance, both a hint and a question.

"Yeah, I should get some rest," you almost yawn at the mere mention of it, stiffly rising to stand. Sam's offering his hand and even though you don't necessarily need the help, you take it anyway just to feel the roughness of his palm on yours. You quietly hope the hugs, the touching, don't stop after you're fully recovered.

While you were lost for a moment in your thoughts, Sam's eyes have been running over you, his frown growing as he takes in the damage you were dealt. 

"I'm currently about 90% bruise," you huff a breath out, looking down at your own arms and legs. Sam's hand moving catches your eye and you look back up, breath catching in your throat as he gently moves fabric aside, fingertips just barely whispering across your collarbone.

His usually clear baby blues are dark, expression almost angry as he tenderly ghosts over a particularly gnarly bruise near the base of your neck.

"I'm coming with you next time," the protective threat in his voice sends a pleasant shiver through you from head to toe. You'd pity the Starborn that are going to find themselves at the wrong end of his rifle, if they weren't such assholes.

He finally meets your eyes, lightly jolting as if just realizing himself. Sam pulls his hands back, clearing his throat and stepping aside so you can get to the bed.

You take in a deep shaky breath, it feels like the first time you've breathed all day. "We'll finish the upgrades to the Eye, I won't go to another temple alone again," you try to reassure him and climb into bed, sighing at the comfort of the mattress giving way under your sore body.

When Sam turns to leave, the thought of him going is almost painful, on top of all the other pain, so you shove nerves aside and just ask. 

"Will you stay?"

"As you wish," Sam stops in his tracks and responds without hesitation, smirking as he returns your words to you. He's moving to grab a nearby chair when you softly grunt in protest, frowning. His eyebrows raise in question, eyes meeting yours. Silently, you point to the bed behind you. This is not something you'd normally request, and definitely not without some kind of conversation beforehand about the nature of your relationship, but for once you're going to skip the anxiety and just ask for what you really want.

Barely getting out of a scrape alive does tend to put things into perspective.

Sam takes in a shallow, sharp breath, realization coming over his features. "I do make a good big spoon," he recovers quickly.

He sets his hat down on the chair, shrugging off his jacket and stepping out of his boots before carefully climbing in beside you. When Sam's arm drapes over your side, you happily sigh, snuggling back into him as much as the pain allows. He draws his knees up, shifting, fitting perfectly against you and you feel the pillow move behind you under his head.

"It was that bad, huh," he murmurs, breath tickling the back of your neck. 

You thickly swallow, silently nodding, threading your fingers through his. He simply gently squeezes in response.

"Safe now," Sam's voice is softer, rest calling to him, too, now that his adrenaline has worn off.

You're about to let sleep pull you under when you remember a promise made to yourself, wind knocked out of your lungs and smashed up against a boulder, should you get out of fighting off five Starborn alive. You have to tell him.

"I love you, Sam," your voice is so quiet you aren't even sure he could have heard you over the drone of the air circulation units. For a dreadful moment that feels like an eternity you tensely wait for any response at all. Wondering if you should repeat, or if he's asleep and maybe didn't hear you so you'll have plausible deniability when you both wake up. Maybe you can pretend you didn't just do that and make everything so incredibly awkward with your best friend in the galaxy.

"I love you, too," he angles his head, nestling into your hair, face gently resting against your neck. "Sleep, darlin'," you can barely feel his lips curving into a smile against your shoulder before you're out like a light. 

[ninjaofnaps]

To build a home

"Sam, I can totally explain," you're anxiously fretting with the key ring, wishing he'd make eye contact.

Little ficlet that popped into my head today when I realized (spoiler?) the Core Manor you can buy in Akila City is ... directly across from the Coe Estate 😬 (Game screenshot is the view from Jacob Coe's front door, lol..)

Light angst, fluff, kissin', implied smut; rated M, i suppose!

Sam Coe x reader (gender neutral spacefarer)

---

"Sam, I can totally explain," you're anxiously fretting with the key ring, wishing he'd make eye contact.

"I'm listening."

"So, I was running around with Barrett last week," you begin, gratified that at least his eyebrow has twitched upward.

Damn it, he's still handsome even when he's angry.

"Shoulda known he'd have something to do with this," Sam's expression is somewhere between a blank stare and a glare. A blank glare.

"And there was this guy standing outside. Basically as soon as we left the Rock, he started talking to us, and..." you trail off, your gaze drifting toward the whitewashed stone walls. The patio is objectively cute, the place is nice, and the location is... well, mostly good.

"And?"

"I still don't know my way around very well, I seriously had no idea," your hands drop to your sides, shoulders falling.

The manor in the Core of Akila City was too good to pass up. You wanted a home, a real home, in a place that reminded you of your long-destroyed town. You wanted to lay your head somewhere that didn't have engines and missiles attached to it, or 7-8 housemates.

A home that didn't give you motion sickness.

"Let's at least take this conversation inside," Sam's eyes quickly dart to the right, the Coe family estate's front door dimly illuminated by the Rock's floodlights.

If Jacob finds out--when Jacob finds out--then he'll know that any time he goes out his front door, yours is directly across from his.

With a shaky hand, you unlock the front door and you both quickly step inside, securing it behind you.

Your bootfalls echo through the empty space, all wood and stone and rustic tin ceiling coziness. In your mind's eye, you can already see the wood stove you'll install for cold rainy days and winter, the sofa you noticed at the Trade Authority that's big enough for you, Sam, and Cora.

Frozen by the front door, wringing your hands and fidgeting with the key ring again, you watch as Sam silently stalks around the room, taking in the kitchen, the living room. The silence is thick as he rubs his beard in thought, periodically shaking his head. Sam barely glances at the bathroom before disappearing into the bedroom.

You'd only had time to place one piece of furniture before he'd arrived, your space cowboy husband a special delivery from the Eye to you, given a ride by Barrett himself. You're actually amazed he didn't manage to spill the beans, but Barrett always has a way of surprising you.

When Sam comes back from the bedroom, his steps are slower. He's looking down, thumbs hooked into his pockets, the brim of his hat obscuring his face from view. Your stomach is wrung and twisted and you're wondering whether you're actually about to cry when he reaches you, reaches for you, hands gently resting on your waist.

Finally, he looks up, and you breathe in for the first time since stepping inside.

"I like the furniture," the warm smirk and twinkle of mischief in his eyes you fell in love with take your breath away. Your eyes are drawn to his mouth, you can't help it.

"The... the bed?" You huff a small laugh, muscles finally relaxing a little bit, looking up to meet his eyes.

Sam just smiles and steps forward, gently crowding you against the door, leaning forward to capture your lips with his.

You sigh and press up onto the balls of your feet to drape your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss. You missed him, badly; missed being in his arms, missed the taste of him.

Now, this... this is home.

When your fingers run into his hair and you needily arch into him, Sam presses back against you, a hint of how much he's missed you, too, these past few weeks.

Your lips curve into a small smile against his when you idly hope you're forgiven.

"Darlin'," he's a little breathless when you part, a gorgeous light blush across his cheeks.

"Yes, Sam?" You press a kiss into the scruff on his chin, giving your best please forgive me smile and looking up from under your lashes.

"Now that is psychological warfare, right there," he chuckles, bringing his hand up to caress your cheek. "I wouldn't deny you anything in the entire star field, you know that?"

You can't help but grin at that, the cozy vision in your mind warmly glowing.

"I'll put planters out front, grow some vines to hide the door from sight," you suggest, mind already working. "And there's another entrance, we could just go-oomph!"

Your words dissolve into a pleased moan as Sam cuts you off with another kiss, this one firmer, his hand moving down your back to pull you into him.

When you finally pull back to catch your breath, he takes a step, takes your hand in his.

"How soundproof do you think these old stone walls are?" Sam's voice is even lower and rougher than usual and you feel an intense throb of need.

"Only one way to find out," you breathlessly follow his hasty steps back to the bedroom.