You’re in the bunker’s kitchen when Jack appears in the doorway, looking unusually determined for someone who still hasn’t figured out how to work the toaster. “I need your help,” he says seriously, walking straight up to you. “With something important.”

You set down your mug, giving him your full attention. “Okay. What is it?”

He shifts his weight, clearly rehearsing. “I read that couples dance together. It said it helps them feel closer and share joy. I’d like to try that. With you.” You blink.

“Dance?” you ask, just to be sure.

He nods. “Yes. Like at weddings. Or in movies. Or… during emotional montages.”

You stifle a smile. “Jack, do you know what it means when you do that kind of dancing with someone?”

He tilts his head, thoughtful. “It means you trust them. And you want to be close. And sometimes you kiss after, but I figured we could skip that part unless you wanted to include it.” Your heart trips over itself.

“Right,” you murmur, trying to breathe normally. “Okay, um… dancing. Yeah. We can do that.” Jack beams. You lead him to the war room, where the floor’s wide and open and the lighting is low and soft. You grab your phone, pull up a slow, easy song, and take a deep breath before stepping up to him. “Okay. You put one hand here,” you say, guiding him to your waist, “and the other here.” You place his hand in yours, curling your fingers gently. He’s warm. Steady. Focused on every point of contact like it’s sacred. You place your other hand on his shoulder. “Now just… follow my lead.”

You sway together in small, uncertain movements at first. Jack’s feet move with too much thought, and he keeps glancing down to make sure he’s not stepping on yours. But then he looks up. Meets your eyes. And stops thinking. You can feel it, the moment he stops dancing to learn and starts dancing for you. His fingers tighten slightly on your hand. His arm around your waist shifts closer. Not too much, but enough to feel his heartbeat against your chest. “This feels… different than I expected,” he says softly, brow furrowing.

“How so?”

“I thought it would just be nice. But it’s more than that.” His voice lowers, like he’s trying not to disturb the moment. “It feels like when you hold me after a nightmare. Like safety and something else I don’t have a word for.”

You swallow hard. “That’s kind of the point.” Jack looks down at your joined hands, then back up at you.

“Does this mean I’m allowed to want more than just dancing?”

Your breath catches. “Do you?” He nods slowly, wonder blooming across his face.

“I think I’ve wanted it for a while. I just didn’t know what it was called.”

You lean in, forehead brushing his. “It’s called falling in love, Jack.”

His breath shudders against your cheek. “Oh,” he whispers. “Then I think I’ve been dancing with you in my head for a long time.”