AUTHOR'S NOTE: Three in one night?! I'm on a roll! :D This is only because I'm on vacation from work though. But it makes up for the delay in updating ever since I wrote "Morning Gift."

Sunlight shone on Sam's face, waking him from a restful sleep. He rolled away from it and snuggled deeper into his warm bed and bumped up against the yielding body beside him. His eyes shot open in surprise and he found himself staring into Castiel's sleep relaxed face. His entire body tensed at the intoxicating sight. Castiel was so gorgeous he thought as he hungrily studied his soft, slightly parted lips. If he were to lean forward just a little, he could brush his lips against Castiel's and…

Castiel? He gasped as a feeling of vertigo swept over him, giving him the disconcerting feeling that he was falling. He froze as his memory came rushing back in a confusing tidal wave of jumbled events, emotions, and totally unrelated trivia. He pressed his lips together to hold back his rising nausea. After a few interminable minutes, the sensation of not being in control of his own thoughts passed and he tried to make sense of what had happened.

The accident. That was the place to start. He'd hand an accident. He winced as his mind obligingly supplied an image of a large silver truck skidding toward him. Sam frowned, trying to remember what had happened immediately after that but he couldn't. All he could remember was a car as big as a mountain coming toward him. The next memory he was able to come up with was of Castiel's white face leaning over him. He had looked frightened and intent, but why he was frightened and what he seemed so set on Sam didn't know. Nor could he be positive that he actually had seen Castiel. Maybe he was simply imagining it. Hadn't he read somewhere that traumatic events played tricks on one's memory? And things didn't get much more traumatic than being mowed down by a car.

As Castiel muttered and shifted slightly in his sleep, Sam tensed, not wanting the other man to wake up. He desperately wanted to get everything straight in his mind before h had to face Castiel. To his relief, Castiel simply snuggled a little closer to him and continued to sleep.

Determined to figure out what was going on, Sam forced his mind back to the accident and carefully traced what he could remember. But instead of clearing up his confusion, what he remembered simply increased it. Castiel must have claimed to have been his husband at the scene of the accident since the hospital believed it. But why had he done it? Sam couldn't come up with a single good reason. Castiel had already given his notice. He was due to leave in…

Sam tried to remember what day it was but he couldn't. The time around his accident was too confused. He wasn't sure how many days he'd lost. But even so, his accident would have released Castiel from working out the rest of his notice. He could have left Sam in the hospital and flown home to Illinois on his original ticket. But he hadn't done that. Why not was the question. What could he hop to gain by pretending to be Sam's husband?

Plenty, Sam thought. If he thought Castiel was his husband then he would have allowed the other man access to his bank accounts. And they were substantial. But he hadn't drained any of the accounts, Sam conceded as he mentally reviewed the last few days. All they had bought was a bunch of Christmas decorations and that had been Sam's idea.

Castiel wasn't stupid. He had to know that any financial gains he expected to make would have to be done quickly because that doctor had been very specific about his memory returning at any time.

But there was a second problem with that theory, he realized. When Castiel had originally claimed to be Sam's husband, he couldn't have known that Sam was going to lose his memory. So why make the claim in the first place?

Unless… Could Castiel feel something for Sam? A sudden jolt of excitement slammed through him before his common sense doused the idea. If Castiel felt anything for Sam, he wouldn't have quit. And he had. Very forcefully.

Sam felt like throwing something. Something heavy. None of this made any sense. Especially not Castiel's sudden resignation when just the week before, they'd been making plans about what they were going to do with the company in spring.

Although it did make sense if Castiel had taken the job as his administrative assistant with the intention of trapping him into a relationship and had then resigned when he'd believed he wasn't making any progress. Castiel should have waited a few more weeks, Sam thought with a sour tasted in his mouth. A little more patience on Castiel's part and he would have been rewarded by seeing him make a monumental fool of himself.

But even if all that was true, and even if Castiel had claimed to be Sam's husband to try to take financial advantage of him, the fact still remained that he hadn't. And Sam hadn't a clue as to why not.

Castiel moved slightly and Sam tensed. He had to figure out what he was going to do about the bizarre situation he found himself in and he had to do it fast. Basically, he had two options, he decided. He could tell Castiel he'd regained his memory, or he could continue to pretend to have amnesia. If he told Castiel he had his memory back, then it was over. He'd never know why the other man had begun the pretense in the first place. He would always be left wondering if Castiel was simply a predatory, greedy man, or if there was more to the impersonation than that.

And Sam wanted to know. All he had to do was to play dumb a little longer. Give Castiel a little more time to make his move and then Sam would know. For sure. He wouldn't have to guess. He couldn't keep the pretense up indefinitely because he had a company to run but he could manage it until after Christmas, he finally decided. And, if nothing else, it would give him memories of one holiday spent with the man he loved.

Sam went rigid as he realized the word his subconscious had used. He didn't "love" Castiel, he told himself, fighting his emotions. Loving Castiel would be a disaster. He would just leave Sam. Hell, he was already planning on leaving Sam.

Cautiously, Sam eased himself out of bed. He hurriedly dressed and quietly slipped out of the room. He made his way to the kitchen and started the coffee. In the time it took to brew, Castiel had woken and dressed, and now stood in the doorway, wearing snug jeans and blue sweater that made his eyes shine. As far as Sam was concerned, the only way he'd look better was naked under him, eyes lust hazed and lips parted with rosy cheeks. He licked his lips at his suddenly dry lips.

"Is your head bothering you?" Castiel's question yanked Sam out of his delightful daydream.

Careful, Winchester, don't let him suspect anything is different this morning or it's all over. He'll take off like a rabbit and you'll never have any answers.

"No, just a little cold."

Castiel nodded and moved past him to get his own cup of coffee. When he turned around, Sam was staring at him with an intense expression on his face. Castiel recognized that look. It was one Sam wore when he was perplexed by something and determined to get to the bottom of it.

Could Sam have regained his memory? A sudden feeling of dread iced his skin. He was imagining things, he assured himself. If Sam had regained his memory, he would be demanding to know what was going on. And he wasn't. He hadn't even made any oblique references to the situation.

"Breakfast?" Sam asked. "We can plan our day while we eat."

Castiel relaxed at his words. "How about oatmeal?" he said as he got the box from the cabinet.

"Sam eyed the small packet Castiel was emptying into a bowl. "Better make that two for me," he said. "Have we got any doughnuts to snack on while we wait?"

"You're only waiting ninety seconds," Castiel said dryly.

"Doughnuts are food for the soul," Sam countered.

"Well, we don't have any. Make do with your oatmeal." Castiel set the steaming bowl in front of Sam.

Sam added some milk and started eating with a sense of satisfaction. He'd done it! Castiel hadn't realized that he had his memory back. Now all he had to do was keep it up. That and figure out how to get him to tip his hand. But how could he do that?

"Don't look so sad," Castiel said. "If you really want doughnuts, we can get some while we're in town."

"We'll stop at the bakery," Sam absently agreed.

Castiel felt a sudden stab of unease at his words. "What bakery? Did you remember something?"

Sam cursed his careless words. This was going to be harder than he'd thought. "No," he lied. "The waitress at the restaurant mentioned that was where their pies came from. It was while you were getting that prescription filled." And making that phone call you didn't want me to know about, he remembered.
"Oh." Castiel relaxed at his explanation. "So what are we going to do today?"

"We're going back into town. We'll find a place that sells electronics and get a CD player, a television, and anything else that appeals to us. Anything you particularly want?" Sam watched Castiel closely to see if the other man took advantage of his offer to buy him something.

To his surprise, Castiel ignored the offer.

"Maybe we should rent all that stuff," he said. "It seems like a lot of expense and, if you'd wanted them in the first place, surely you would have already bought them?"

"Do we have any financial problems you've been keeping from me?" Sam asked, curious as to what Castiel would say.

"I meant it when I told you that you can afford to buy anything you want, but that doesn't mean you're going to approve of having spent a lot of money once you regain your memory," Castiel explained.

"I can afford? Tell me, since I can't remember the wedding ceremony, have they changed it?" Sam couldn't resist pushing. "Doesn't it go something like 'with all my worldly goods I thee endow'?"

Castiel frowned. "How did you know that?"

"Oh, I know lots of facts. It's remembering personal facts that gives me trouble," Sam said.

"Oh, the justice of the peace that married us might have said that but I was too nervous to remember."

"Maybe we ought to get remarried now So can at least remember that ceremony," Sam said.

"No!" Castiel blurted, ruthlessly suppressing the sense of longing that flooded him at Sam's unexpected words. "We can get married again once you regain your memory," he said to soften his refusal.

Sam winced at the uncompromising tone of his rejection. Clearly, he didn't want to marry Sam so what the hell did he want? Sam gritted his teeth against an urge to ask him and struggled for a light tone.

"Tell you what. Since you're worried about me spending my money, how about we spend the half of my money that I bequeathed to you?" he finally said.

"You sound like a lawyer, not a businessman," Castiel said.

"Please, no insults so early in the morning. Do you remember what time the stores open?"

"Most everything should be open by ten. That's a pretty standard time."

Sam checked his watch. "Okay. Let's get more Christmas lights and more extension cords then we can see about the other stuff."

"Okay," Castiel agreed, feeling faintly uneasy. For a moment Sam had sounded exactly like Sam had sounded before his accident. Decisive and focused.

Uncertainly, he stared at Sam. Maybe it was simply that with each passing day he was becoming more and more himself? It made sense. At least, it made as much sense as anything in this whole mess did. Maybe he could…

He lost his train of thought as he suddenly heard his cell phone ringing.

"What's that?" Sam turned and stared into the living room where Castiel had left the phone sitting on an end table.

"My cell phone." Castiel hurriedly got to his feet. "It's probably just a friend. That or Gabriel calling with an update on the business."

He hurried into the living room, grabbed the phone, and answered it. To his dismay, it was neither a friend nor Gabriel. It was Dean's voice that scraped irritatingly across his nerves.

"The damned will wasn't there!" Dean immediately launched into a complaint. "I took his apartment apart piece by piece, and it wasn't there. It must be at the cabin, I tell you."

There were a lot of things Castiel wanted to say, starting with he wished Dean wouldn't tell him anything ever again and ending with he wanted Dean to disappear down a deep dark hole. But he couldn't for several reasons – not the least of which was the fact that Sam was standing behind him, listening to everything he said. Sam might have lost his memory but there was nothing wrong with his wits. Castiel absolutely couldn't say anything to make him suspicious. A little investigation on Sam's part and Castiel's impersonation would collapse around him.

"Answer me, dammit!" Dean yelled.

"I didn't realize you'd asked a question." Castiel kept his voice level with a monumental effort.

"Don't act any dumber than I already know you are! It has to be at the cabin."

"It isn't," Castiel insisted.

"And how would you know?"

"I looked," he lied.

"You probably weren't looking in the right places. Get Sam out of there and I'll do the job right. I flew up last night after I realized he had to have stashed the will at the cabin. I can be there in half an hour."

Castiel's heart sank at the appalling information. The very thought of Dean pawing through his belongings made his skin crawl. Not only that, but Sam would be bound to notice if the cabin was searched and he would call the police and who knew what might come to light if they got involved. Somehow, he had to stall Dean.

"I'll look again, alright?" he persisted, trying to keep Dean at bay for a while longer. He didn't think a notarized letter from God would be enough to convince Dean to give up his obsession with the fictitious will.

"See that you do," Dean snarled and then slammed the phone down.

"Who was that?"

Castiel turned at the sound of Sam's voice to find him watching him with an alert expression that made Castiel very nervous. Had Sam heard Dean through the phone? Or was he simply making conversation?

"Just a friend." It was odd, Castiel thought unhappily. He didn't mind in the least lying to Dean. But he hated the necessity of even shading the truth with Sam. He wasn't sure if it was because Sam was such an ethical man himself or if it was because Castiel was head over heels in love with him. But whatever the reason, he hated ling to Sam. "If we're going into town, let's get going."

Sam studied Castiel's pale features for a long moment, feeling his frustration grow. That hadn't been any friend he'd been talking to. Or, more accurately, listening to. He hadn't really contributed that much to the conversation.

But who was he talking to? Sam didn't think Castiel was seeing anyone. He certainly hadn't mentioned anyone before and, for that matter, when would he have found the time for a man in his life? They'd been working horrendous hours since August.

And his body language hadn't been that of someone talking to a lover. Sam's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. Castiel had been tense throughout the whole conversation. Almost as if he were afraid. Anger shot through Sam. Who had dared to threaten Castiel? And what were they threatening him with? Certainly not his past.

He'd had Castiel thoroughly investigated before he hired him. His life to that time had been blameless to the point of boredom. And ever since he'd hired him, Castiel hadn't had the time to get into any trouble.

Impotent frustration filled him. So much was at stake and he not only didn't know the rules of whatever game Castiel was laying, he didn't even know all the players.

"Sam?" Castiel asked uncertainly, worried about the emotions he could see flitting across the other mans' face but couldn't read. Clearly he had some doubts about Castiel's explanation of the phone call – doubts Castiel had no way of alleviating without causing yet more complications.

"Sorry." Sam forced his worries to the back of his mind. "I was just thinking about our plans."

Castiel relaxed slightly at his words. "We should get going then."

Sam smiled and stepped over to him, giving in to the impulse to take Castiel into his arms. He gathered him close to his chest and nestled his face into his hair. Castiel smelled so delectable. No matter what else happened, he would always remind him of spring. Or of new beginnings.

"You're dallying," Castiel murmured, lost in the heady sensation of Sam's strong arms around him.

"Dallying?" Sam asked with a chuckle.

"It's as good a word as any," Castiel muttered.

"Oh, no. I can think of much better words."

"You can?" Castiel felt his breathing constrict at the sensual glow building in Sam's eyes.

"Definitely. Let me see." He pretended to contemplate the idea. "I think one of my favorites is kiss."

"Kiss?" Castiel muttered.

"Like this." Sam's mouth closed over Castiel's.

A tremor shot through Castiel, sending shivers coursing over his skin. Before he could properly enjoy the sensation Sam lifted his head and continued.

"And there's kiss's close cousin nuzzle." He lowered his head and explored the spot behind Castiel's left ear with his lips. Castiel jumped at the sensation and Sam's arms tightened.

"That's quite a family." Castiel's voice came out as a breathless squeak.

Satisfied, Sam dropped his arms and stepped back. Whatever else was going on, Castiel wasn't indifferent to him physically. He liked it when Sam kissed him. Sam was positive of it.

"But you're right. We should get going to get the Christmas lights."

"Christmas lights," Castiel repeated as he struggled to pull his competent professional persona around him. He couldn't. The best he could come up with was a semi-competent helper. One who was in eminent danger of losing his head over Sam. The thought sobered him. This wasn't going to last. As soon as Sam regained his memory, Castiel would be gone. Probably gone with his condemnation ringing in his ears. He had to keep some mental distance between them or the pain would be all the worse.

But how? How was he supposed to do that when Sam kept touching him?

AUTHOR'S NOTE: My favorite part is coming up in the next chapter. :D