A/N: Thank you all for your reviews! I suppose that means I'll need to continue this story… Oh well. Here you go!

"I'm told I lost a few years."

From her position at the doorway Jules nods, but doesn't venture further into the room. "A little over four, actually."

Sam nods along, blows out a deep breath. "The doctor said my memory shouldn't take long to come back."

"I know."

"They told you?"

"Well, I am your emergency contact."

"Oh. Right."

There's an awkward pause as the two search for the right thing to say next. He's really only got the basics. He knows her name - it's Jules. Jules Callaghan. He knows it's not short for Julia, but he's not sure what it actually is short for. He knows that she lacks a standard coffee order - sometimes cream no sugar, sometimes a double double. He doesn't know why. He's guessing she knows how to swim, knows she spent some time razzing him for his lack of aquatic skills in the back of her jeep. He doesn't know why she drives a jeep, if she still drives a jeep. He knows she takes her job seriously, and that she saw right through him when he invited her for just a burrito. He wonders what changed, how they ended up together. Last he remembers he was staying in a hotel room, looking at lousy studio apartment after miserable one bedroom apartment.

"You said earlier that we live together?"

She nods, dares to move further into the room under the pretense of adjusting an errant blind. "Moved into a house together a couple months ago."

He purses his lips as he raises his eyebrows, nodding his apparent approval. "They said I could go home first thing in the morning. I guess that means home with you?" It's a half statement half question as he tries to figure out just how this is going to work. "That could be… interesting…"

She sighs as she reluctantly takes a seat in the chair by the bed. "Until your memory comes back, yeah, interesting is a good way to put it."

He smirks, attempting to find the humour in their situation. "At least it's just the two of us. I mean, I don't have like 3 kids and a dog I've forgotten too, right?"

She gives a half smile, sighs as she shakes her head. "Nope. Just me."

He licks his lips and gives a small frown. "And here I thought that would make me feel better."

"Sorry," she mumbles, fidgeting in her seat. "How's your head?"

He shrugs, winces. "Well, when I move it I'm pretty sure I can hear my brain sloshing around in there." When her jaw locks and her worry is evident on her face, he smiles. "I'm joking. I've got a decent size headache, and everywhere else aches, but I'm fine."

She nods, moves to get comfortable in her chair. "You're sure?"

He grins. "I am." It makes her smile and when he smiles in return he gets the feeling she's more than just the girl he lives with. It's intriguing, and a little unnerving.

"Oh, I should warn you. Nat might stop by on her way out. She's down the hall having some kind of fit about the possibility of you not remembering her. I told her what kind of timeline you've got, but you know Natalie."

Sam chuckles to himself, his laughter slowing as confusion sets in. "Natalie's here? When did she get back? I've been awake for at least an hour, how has she not been in here yet?"

"Oh, she's been down the hall fussing over-" She stops abruptly, realizing just how much Sam is missing. "There's a few things we're going to need to review, until your memory comes back."

"There he is!" Natalie's voice pierces the air as she rushes to her brother's side, seizing him in a smothering hug. "How are you feeling? You remember anything yet?"

Sam blinks, shoots his sister an unimpressed glare. "Since I woke up not remembering anything an hour ago? No. When did you get back? What are you doing here?"

Natalie scoffs. "Wow they weren't kidding… Well, I've been in Toronto for a little over a year now, and I'm here at the hospital because I got a call that you and Mike were in an accident."

"Mike?" Sam's face contorts in confusion as he turns to Jules for answers.

She smiles, helpfully supplies, "Spike," and watches as the wheels in Sam's head turn.

"How do you know Spike?" he asks his sister, only partially wanting to know the answer.

"Oh wow you really don't remember anything…" When Sam simply stares at her, awaiting an answer, she sighs. "Well, Spike and I are, well, we're kind of… Jules? A little help here?"

Jules shakes her head. "You're on your own Nat, I've got enough to deal with in this."

"Well, you see Sam," Natalie is interrupted by the sounds of an argument from down the hall.

"No I don't need to… come on! Guys this isn't cool!"

Both Jules and Natalie move to the door to see what the kerfuffle is about, both smirking as they see Spike arguing with the rest of his teammates.

Natalie rolls her eyes, turns back to Sam. "I'm so sorry Sammy, but I've got to get going. Call me in the morning and we can talk, ok?"

Sam nods, shrugs. "Ok." He watches as she leaves, before turning back to Jules. "So now that she's gone…she and Spike…they're not… I mean they aren't…"

"A couple?"

Sam pales, gives a small nod as he's unable to say the word.

"They are. And before you go all alpha male big brother on Spike's ass, you do approve of them dating. For the most part."

Sam slowly nods, thinking to himself. "Spike and I, we get along?"

She smiles, finally settling back into her chair by the bed. "Oh yes, you do. I'd say he's probably your best friend."

"Huh… interesting," Sam pauses, nods some more before looking back at Jules. "In that case I'm surprised I didn't go after Natalie for that one. She's kind of reckless."

Their arrival at the home they share is beyond strange. Sam's quiet the entire drive there, but suddenly pipes up with all kinds of questions at the house. He asks why she has both a jeep and a car, scoffing at his own poor taste when she informs him the car is actually his. She explains how he bought it in an effort to be fuel efficient while still being able to take girls out, and he concedes that that does sound like his thinking. As they make their way into the front hall, Jules is hopeful that the familiar surroundings will jog his memory. Instead, as she turns to face him after hanging her coat in the hall closet, she's met with the sight of a man in awe of his own home.

"We live here?"

She simply nods, following his gaze as he takes in his surroundings.

"Rent?"

"Own."

"Wow." He smiles to himself, craning his neck for a better view around the first floor. "How did we afford this place?"

Jules smirks, tosses her shoes in the closet. "It didn't look like this when we first moved in. You and I took two weeks vacation and did nothing but renovate. This wall wasn't here before. It used to go straight from front door to kitchen but you thought we needed somewhere for your hockey sticks, so we put in a closet. It still needs a lot of work, but it should all be done by-" she pauses, noticing he's stopped staring at the walls and started staring at her. "What?"

"You know how to do all this?"

She grins, nods as she passes him a hanger for his coat. "I read. Plus I renovated my old house mostly on my own, so drywall was a piece of cake once we moved in here."

Sam smiles, finally removing his own jacket. "I'm glad you seem to enjoy this stuff. I can't tell you how much I hate drywalling."

Jules smiles, laughs to herself as she walks down the hall. "Not with me you don't."

He can almost hear the wink at the end of her sentence, and it's enough to persuade him to follow. "I bet," he says quietly, only half hoping she doesn't hear him. When he finds her busy searching through the fridge he simply waits at the entrance to the room.

"I have to be at work for noon for the afternoon shift, but you, Mr Raspberry-swirl head, have the day off. There's lots of stuff in the fridge so don't you dare order pizza. There's more juice in the cupboard by the stairs if you need it. Oh, I guess I should show you around, shouldn't I?"

He nods slowly, looking around. "That might be good. I would have thought I'd know my own house but I've got nothing."

Jules shows him around the house, pointing out the obvious - dining room, living room, washroom, bedroom - before leading him back to the kitchen. She asks, five or six times, if she can get him anything, if the painkillers the doctors gave him for the remaining aches and pains from the blast are working, if he needs another one, where he would like her to leave them so he can get them while she's out. She leads him to the sofa, handing him the remote and a bottled water, insisting that he keep his cell phone nearby in case he needs anything. She reminds him that she's on his speed dial, to which he smirks and tells her he figured as much. She rolls her eyes, leaves him to get settled as she gets ready for work. With her gym bag by the door and her purse slung over her shoulder, she returns to the living room.

"You're sure you're ok?"

He sighs, gives her his most convincing smile. "I'm sure I can manage."

"I'll be home a little after 11, as long as we don't get any calls."

"I know. I do remember what time the shifts run until. I also know what time they start, and you are going to be late."

Jules huffs, glances at the clock on the mantel. "Alright, fine. But if you do need anything-"

"I'll call."

She nods, hesitates before leaving and instead moves to his side, planting a gentle kiss on his forehead. Catching the subtle blush that creeps across his cheeks - the one that reminds her he doesn't remember them ever happening - she clears her throat and makes a bee line for the door. She quickly reminds him what time she'll be home, and heads out the door.

Alone with his thoughts, Sam devises a plan to get his memory back. There must be something around the house - pictures, clothing, notes - that will jog his memory. He could try upstairs first. He's sure he caught a glimpse of some pictures on one of the dressers in the bedroom while Jules was giving him the grand tour of the three bedroom home. Three bedrooms. He wonders if they had plans for those extra rooms. Have plans - he's not dead, after all. Somehow the morning begins to catch up to him, and he sinks back into the cushions. Maybe he'll have a look around after he checks the highlights. It seems like a good idea since it's been four years since he last checked the rankings - or at least as far as he can recall. Maybe the Leafs are back on top. His doubt is expelled in the form of a snort as he tries to calculate how long it's been since the cup made it's way to Ontario's capital city. It makes his head hurt. Somewhat reluctantly, he takes a pill from the bottle, followed by a large swig of water from the bottle Jules provided. He figures she knows him pretty well considering she easily predicted that he wouldn't want to leave the comfort of the sofa. Either that or she's psychic.

Jules hurries out of her locker room, having arrived late after getting Sam settled at home. Meeting Ed's gaze she frowns, bows her head slightly in shame. "Sorry I'm late. Had to give Sam the tour of the house."

"It's alright, just don't be late ever again," his words don't match his tone of voice and a smile spreads across his face. "How's he doing?"

She shrugs. "He's alright. He hasn't said anything but I'm pretty sure he's got the mother of all headaches."

"And his memory?"

"As far as I can tell the last thing he remembers is a hostage situation at a bank from four years ago. It's weird." She scrunches her nose, shakes her head.

"It'll come. Honestly, I didn't think we'd be seeing you today. The boss didn't offer you the day off?"

She nods, sighs. "He did, but… Sam can take care of himself. Besides, after last night I could use a break from the tension."

"Oh?"

"Nothing bad, it's just a little awkward. Like last night at the hospital - I couldn't bring myself to leave his room for the night, but at the same time I could tell he wasn't really sure how to respond to me there. I ended up faking sleep halfway through a M-A-S-H rerun so that he wouldn't ask when I was planning on going home."

"That is a little… I can see why you're at work today." He smirks as they fall into step and make their way to the briefing room together. "Hey, Sophie was wondering if you two were still in for saturday, although I'm sure neither of them would mind if you guys decided to sit the night out."

"I haven't mentioned it to Sam since yesterday before shift so I'm guessing he has no idea, but I don't see why we wouldn't go. After three days off I'm sure he'll be dying to get out of the house. Besides, it's the Wordsworth's 15th anniversary party. How can we miss that?"

Ed laughs, rolling his eyes as he nods along. "Soph's making me wear a tie."

Jules snorts. "Well, it's a pretty nice place so that's not surprising, but she does know you don't know how to tie it, right?"

"I do so know how to- That's not even-"

"Team one: Hot Call!"

"We'll pick this up later."

"If you need help with the tie I'm sure that's one of the things Sam remembers," Jules responds with a grin, jogging ahead of him towards the gun cage.

Right on time, Jules arrives home. Swinging the screen door open she curses as the wind catches it and she's forced to let it hit her to avoid the clattering sound it'll make if it hits the doorframe. She's really not sure if Sam is still awake or not, so she takes steps to ensure she doesn't wake him accidentally. As she fiddles with her keys at the door, she can see the light stretching down the hall from the kitchen, although she's fairly certain she left that light on herself that morning. Finally unlocking the door, she quietly enters the house, leaving her shoes and jacket in the closet and her purse by the door.

She finds him half asleep on the sofa, still in the jeans and t-shirt she brought him to wear back from the hospital. "Hey there," she half whispers, unsure of his exact status as his eyes flutter and float from the tv to her. "You spend all day in that spot?"

He sighs, swallows hard and squints as he tries to focus on her. "I think so. I remember something about wanting to look for something to jog my memory, but then I took one of those pain pills the doctor gave me and that pretty well did me in for the day. Seriously, you have no idea how much I ache."

"Yeah, because I don't know pain." She smirks, glances at the half empty water bottle on the coffee table. "Did you eat?"

A nod, then a quick wince as he remembers his head. "Made a sandwich. Hey, what are those round things in the fridge?"

Jules frowns, shakes her head. "You're going to need to be a little more specific."

"Ok maybe not round, more oval. Sort of green and red things…" to add to his explanation he begins gesturing with his hands to show the size and shape of the items in question as he rises from the sofa with a groan and leads her to the kitchen. "These things," he says, pulling one out of the refrigerator.

"Sam, that's a mango."

"Oh," he shrugs, returning it to it's home. "Never tried one."

She shakes her head, closing the refrigerator door after him. "You have, and you like it. I'll make you a smoothie in the morning but for now I'm going to bed, and I suggest you do the same if you want to be back at work next week."

He nods, shakes his head at the thought that there are whole fruits he doesn't remember trying. It opens a new realm of things he may have forgotten. He follows her to the bedroom they share, looking around once again as she enters the washroom, closing - but not locking - the door behind her. He hears the water running as she completes what he assumes is her regular evening routine, and turns his attention to a chair in the corner. Draped over the back of it is a pair of track pants, ones that look like the kind he would usually sleep in. With a shrug he picks them up, tugging them on as quickly as he can without disrupting one of his many bruises. Tugging the drawstring, he notices one of his t-shirts on the chair and decides to change into that too.

Jules emerges from the washroom to find Sam, slowly pulling on his t-shirt. "What are you doing?"

Sam pauses, looks at her with wide eyes. "Getting changed for bed…" He looks down to double check the logo on the shirt. "Is this not mine?"

Jules shakes her head, moves to the dresser and opens the second drawer. "No, it's yours. You just uh, don't usually wear that one."

"Oh," he shrugs, finishes pulling on the shirt. "First time for everything I suppose."

"Mmhmm," she nods her agreement as she digs for a tank top to go with the shorts she's picked out for bed.

Afraid he might have forgotten something else, Sam quickly looks for clues as to which side of the bed is his. It's easily determined, thank goodness, and he settles himself on the side near what he immediately recognizes to be his clock-radio. He watches as she sets out her pyjamas on the dresser, immediately feeling awkward as she starts to change in front of him. He knows they live together, that it's not likely the first time it's happened, and it's not that it's a bad view. Its just that all his memory is willing to offer is a new friendship he'd weaselled out of her after she'd told him there was no way she'd ever date a teammate. Last he remembers, they hadn't even kissed and yet there he is, watching her undress in their bedroom. He swallows hard, pries his eyes away and towards his nightstand where he plugs in his cell phone. He settles back down on his pillow, dragging the blankets up as he finds a renewed interest in the textured ceiling.

Without thinking, she's changed into the shorts, her shirt and bra quickly finding their way to the hamper by the door. Pulling the tank over her head she catches a glimpse of him in the mirror over the dresser and it hits her that he has no idea how to respond to what's happening. Smirking ever so slightly, she decides to make it easy on him and hurries up. Fixing the hem of her shirt she slips into bed beside him.

"Goodnight," he tells her quickly, turning off the lamp beside him. He's relieved when she quickly follows his lead and in the dark he stares wide-eyed at the ceiling. Wow, he mouths into the darkness, wondering what'll happen if his memory doesn't return soon.

Jules settles in, her back to Sam. As she shuffles the covers to get comfortable she silently curses the tank top. If she had only had the good sense yesterday morning to move their discarded clothes from the chair to a more appropriate place, then maybe, just maybe, she'd be sleeping in her usual borrowed t-shirt, and not this stupid tank top.

Next Chapter: (tentatively) Frustrasam - Samnesia is frustrating, and not just for Sam.