Supernatural does not belong to me, although I wish it did. I am simply playing in Kripke's sandbox for a bit. All rights and ownership are the property of Kripke and the CW network. I am not making any money from this; it is for my own personal pleasure. No copyright infringement intended.

Synopsis: Sam Wesson is trying desperately to get home to his not so perfect life for the holidays, but when a freak snowstorm stands him in a tiny airport in Jackson Hole, Wyoming he may find a new reason to celebrate the season. Dean Winchester doesn't believe in miracles and he has never stayed in one place for more than a few months. But when he meets Sam Wesson during the most festive time of the year, he might just have found something worth believing in.

NOTE: This story focuses on un-related Sam and Dean as they find one another on a blustery Christmas night. It is a romantic Christmas story. Very light on the SLASH action, but it is there.

Rated T.

Don't like? Don't read it. SLASH M/M relationship!

Please keep in mind that I do not have a Beta, all grammatical errors are my own.

Please Review: So I know there's interest

Chapter Ten

Walking the Plank

Sam had never "walked the plank". In fact he had never been on a ship, but he imagined that it must feel something like walking into that room. The room where he knew his fiancé was waiting for an explanation about his recent behavior. And then there was the small fact that she actually deserved one too. But then there was Dean…and what Sam was feeling for the undeniably sexy man was something special.

His entire life had been a series of 'explanations' and Sam had hoped that this would not be one of those moments. But he'd left too many things to chance and now he was about to hurt two people and he was fairly certain neither of them deserved it.

Knowing that Dean was slowly shuffling behind him just made this seemingly simple action all the more painful. The soft jerky breath of the other man was twisting Sam's heart in painful little knots as he walked. He hadn't set out to cause anyone pain, but it seem that that was exactly what he'd managed to do. And he hadn't just hurt Dean; Sam had managed to shred his own emotions in the process. Before he'd met Dean, he had actually convinced himself that he could be happy with Meg. That they could build a life, albeit one that he didn't truly want, but a life nonetheless, one that included his son and a viable business.

While he and Meg were in this more from a merger point of view than love, he was pretty sure that the whole 'a woman scorned thing' hadn't come from nowhere. Which meant that he was going to pay for this no matter how it went down.

On one hand he would probably lose Dean…and that was a truly torturous thought, and on the other hand, he could lose what he'd spent his entire life building…the partnership. He and Meg might not be in love with one another, but they wanted the same things. A successful practice that came with stability, all in service of those they loved. In his case that was Adam, in hers, a daughter named Amelia.

Sam swallowed the lump in his throat as he stepped slowly into the large ornately festive foyer. Garland hung from the deep mahogany banisters. Bright red poinsettias lined each step in an inviting manner that was eerily similar to the decorating style of the Inn in Jackson Hole. "Meg, what're you doing here?" He asked softly. The music from his son's cartoon was drifting through the house, almost making a mockery of his current sticky situation.

Her brown eyes flashed up and she blinked in feigned surprise. "Should I leave?" She asked after a moment, almost flippantly.

Dean stepped around the corner and her cunning gaze flickered to him as though he was inconsequential to this situation, before she returned her irritated gaze to Sam. It felt the same as a person dismissing a fly on the wall, if it were too high to reach with a fly swatter. Dean blinked several times when he finally matched the face with the voice he'd heard over the phone that day in the hotel room.

She was beautiful, not in the conventional sense, but classically, the kind of woman a man remembers for the rest of his life and counts his blessing that she choose him. The woman was wearing a five thousand dollar custom-made suit, with black custom leather boots that might have fed a small orphanage for a month. The patina to her glossy dark hair was stunning and Dean found that he couldn't quite look away. He knew he should, that he needed to, but he couldn't.

She raised an elegant dark eyebrow and then looked back at Sam. "New maintenance guy?" It was snide and meant to cut…and it did, right to the marrow.

Dean's blonde eyebrows cut down in irritation at her tone. But before he could answer, Sam stepped in, claiming the conversation before it could spiral out of control. "Meg Masters, this is Dean Winchester. He gave me a ride so I could make it home for Christmas." It was said so matter of fact that Dean had to look away to ensure that his indifferent mask stayed firmly in place. He didn't need either of these people to know that that comment had wounded him in a way nothing else could have. Hearing Sam call him, basically, inconsequential to the situation at hand…nothing more than the chauffeur…it hurt, more than it should.

She thinned her plump lips at that. "I'm sure he did." Sam shot Dean a desperate look to 'please stay quiet', when he started to open his mouth and she continued on as though she hadn't seen the exchange. "If he was just your ride? Why is he still here?"

Adam ran in at that moment, a wide grin spreading quickly as he traipsed through the three adults. "Dean stayed for breakfast. He's cool, Meg." The little boy's lack of comprehension of the situation at hand might have been comical if the air hadn't been so thick with tension it could be cut with a dull knife.

Meg turned toward the little boy and smiled broadly. "That was so sweet of your father to do that. I'm sure Dean was grateful for the hot meal." Her voice was dripping with a syrupy sweetness that was completely contrary to her icy glare.

The not so veiled insult wasn't lost on either Sam or Dean as they stared at her in shock at the blatant disrespect she'd just shown the shorter man. Meg looked straight at Dean when she spoke next. "But I'm sure he must have somewhere he has to be for the holidays? Don't you?" She finished.

Sam started to defend his guest, but Dean beat him to it, his voice was cold and dead when he answered. "As a matter of fact I do. I didn't realize how late it was." He barely glanced at Sam before quickly gathering up his leather jacket. "Sam, it was great meeting you…and Adam…" He knelt down and the child barreled into him like he was the kid's long lost uncle or something. "Thank you for showing me your awesome toy collection, kiddo." He hugged the small boy and hastily hauled himself back to his feet.

Sam was flying apart inside as he watched Dean prepare to walk out of his life forever. He was bound by promises that he couldn't break and standing here with Meg less than five feet from Dean, he couldn't exactly explain those promises to the other man. But Sam's stomach was clenching painfully as the blonde started toward the front door. He'd thought that they would have all day to figure out what happens next…he had been so very wrong.

XXXX

Dean passed through the large ornate entryway and out into the lightly falling snow. He fought the nearly overwhelming impulse to turn and see if Sam had stepped to the door to watch him leave. His mind was replaying the beautiful family scene he'd been allowed to partake in all morning. The scene with a child and with someone that might actually love him, but it was just a fantasy and he'd allowed himself to be seduced by it. Time has a way of reminding one of their shortcomings…and Dean had been brutally reminded of his. And it sucked! It just fucking sucked!

The quickly gathering snow crunched under his boots as he stepped off the walkway and onto the driveway. The air was crisp and cold and it bit through his leather jacket. Dean shivered and then shoved his hands in his pockets for the keys. He glanced over at his beloved car let out a long slow breath. The Impala was dusted in a wintery white blanket and Dean clenched his teeth against the hollow spot in the vicinity of his heart.

How the hell did you let this happen, Dean? He asked himself as he quickly wiped his arm across the front window, clearing the snow off. Christmas lights twinkled up and down the street. When he'd been a kid, he'd loved the holiday. It meant that he could pretend, if only for that day, that he was a normal kid with a normal family. But then everything had changed when he'd seen something that he shouldn't have. That was the night his entire life fell apart and it had been Christmas Eve.

Since then he'd despised the holiday, right up until today. Seeing Sam with Adam? Dean hadn't realized how much he wanted that. He knew he couldn't have it, not with his past. But that didn't stop the desire.

His eyes were drawn to the house and he frowned when he saw Meg staring out the enormous front window. He didn't need great eyesight to clearly make out her angry expression. Hell, he didn't even need mediocre vision to see that.

Dean slipped behind the wheel of the Chevy and fired up the engine. She purred to life and the familiar rumble made him feel slightly better. He was just putting it into reverse when Sam raced from the house. He was waving his arms, a package in one hand and a plate covered in plastic wrap in the other.

"Dean!" Sam called loudly. It was the devastated look on his face that halted Dean's retreat. He made the mistake of looking in the rearview mirror and he couldn't make himself drive away. Not from that look…and not from Sam.

It took every cell in Dean's body to press on the brakes and wait for Sam to approach the car. Just let it go, Sammy. He thought silently. When he didn't roll down the window, Sam knocked twice with his knuckles. The lawyer wasn't wearing a coat and his teeth were already starting to chatter when Dean shook his head in resignation before leaning over and popping the passenger side lock.

Sam quickly yanked the door open and slipped into the car. "It's not much warmer in here than out there." He said through clenched teeth.

Dean raised an eyebrow. "Well to be fair, the car has been running for about sixty seconds." The other man didn't immediately answer, so he went on. "What do you want, Sam?"

His head tilted to the side and the long brown locks fell into his eyes. Sam held up the plate of food. "Thought you should get to eat something."

"Thanks."

Sam pulled in slow breath. "And I wanted to apologize." He waited for Dean to ask what he had to be sorry about, but he never asked. Sam continued. "I didn't know she was coming over. She's not supposed to be in town."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" This shouldn't be bothering him like it was and Dean was frustrated with his own reaction to seeing Sam's fiancé. Hell, he had a wife and Sam hadn't reacted the way he was when he learned about her. Although, his was a marriage of necessity and not one of love, but Sam didn't know that. And if Dean had his way, the man sitting next to him would never know what had happened.

Sam shook his head. "No. No, it shouldn't make you feel better." He set the food down and reached for Dean's limp hand. It was resting on his thigh and the brush of Sam's knuckles along his muscled leg sent a thrill of heat through Dean. "But this should." If the feeling of Sam's hand had caused a reaction inside him, the feel of his lips on Dean's shocked mouth sent shivers through him. Trying not to kiss Sam back would have been like stopping the tide from coming in, impossible.

The warm supple lips moved with an intensity that was undeniable and Dean was helpless against the power of his own magnetic reaction to the lawyer. His hand moved of its' own accord and he gently twisted his fingers into Sam's silky hair. The increasing beat of his heart and the shivers clambering through his body barely registered as Dean lost himself in Sam.

As quickly as it had started it was over and Sam was climbing from the car. He leaned back in and forced a painful smile as Dean let the confusion wash across his expression. "I didn't want you to leave without knowing how I feel." He said softly.

"Am I?" Dean asked. "Still leaving?"

Sam pulled in a long breath and then nodded once. "I can't blow apart my life, Dean. I had a plan and…" He lifted his hand and then dropped it listlessly to his side. "…I can't throw that all away…I'm sorry." His breathing hitched. "You have no idea how sorry I am."

The wall slid into place and Dean nodded. He couldn't afford to let Sam see how much this hurt. It wouldn't do either of them any good. "I think I have an idea." He shot back quietly. "I hope you get everything you want, Sammy." He meant the sentiment, but it was killing him inside to utter those words. He'd never felt the way he did when he was around Sam. Just my luck, I meet someone I want and they don't want me. The thought slipped past his guard and struck him hard.

Words failed Sam as she stared down at the sexy blonde man in the black car. Emotions were running amuck inside him and he wasn't sure what to say. Or if he should say anything at all. Would he just make this harder on them both? He wasn't being fair to Dean or himself. He knew that they couldn't be together; it wasn't in either of their best interest. So he pulled his lower lip between his teeth and stood up.

"Good bye, Dean." It was soft and lacking the turbulence of his inner turmoil.

Dean sat back and watched as Sam gently pushed the passenger door shut. He swallowed the pain and whispered. "Good bye, Sammy." He quickly placed the car in reverse before either of them could make another mistake.

XXXX

The storms had blown back in and Dean was just pulling into a gas station to fill up before blowing town when he realized that he was being followed. The blacked out SUV cut him off before he could reverse out of the one-way entrance. In front of him were gas pumps and behind was the SUV. Either way it was about to get heated. He thought about taking his chances with the pumps, but a shot fired from inside the other vehicle stopped him short.

Dean slowly raised his hands and let his head drop forward onto his chest. He hadn't made it out before they found him…not good. The door of the SUV slowly opened and an enormous man in a custom tailored suit stepped out into the snow as the wind whipped it around his feet. Held loosely in his left hand was a gold-plated pistol, without disrupting his perfectly pressed attire he raised the gun and expertly aimed it at Dean's chest; right through the front windshield. Yeah, not very fucking good. Dean thought in resignation. He'd avoided this for almost six years. He supposed he'd had a good run and at this point he didn't really have anything to keep fighting for.

So yeah, let them come...

TBC…

Author's Note: New chapter, yay! Sorry for the lag time in getting this posted. Hope you like it, we're getting into Dean's past now…so that should be fun. Thanks for reading and posting, much appreciated.

Please Review: Let me know if you're still reading and interested, thanks!