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Sam can’t explain it, but the places they’re going recently, the things they’re getting up to, feel… familiar. Not eerie like déjà vu, but warm and familiar, like pulling an old shirt from the back of the drawer.
He knows he’s never been to this gorgeous Maryland inn, but the name, the way it looks, and the surrounding area are like something from a book he read long ago. He looks it up on the web later. It’s a real place. Gabriel has not yet started recreating literary hotels for him. He wouldn’t mind if the angel did. The inn was one of the best weekends of his life.
A week later, Gabriel cooks him a five course dinner and serves it on a picnic blanket under the stars. They spill wine on the grass when Gabriel tries to steal a bite of potato off Sam’s fork and laugh about it as they watch it wind downhill like a tiny sparkling river. Sam swears “gourmet picnic” was something he’d thought of doing before, but never got around to.
The places they’re going are suddenly so below Gabriel’s usual level of grandeur. He usually lives life to the fullest- five star hotels with room service, no exceptions- when they travel. But their next getaway is a national park where they spend the weekend in a tent and skinny dip in an ice cold lake (Gabriel bitches about how cold it is while Sam laughs at his pout, then cuddles him close the rest of the day to make up for it.) Sam remembers working a case near these woods when he was young, perhaps seventeen or so.
Sam doesn’t figure it out until they’re checking into their next room- a tiny treetop lodge in the middle of nowhere. There’s a piece of paper sticking out of Gabriel’s back pocket, with what looks like Sam’s handwriting on it. It’s super easy to pickpocket him too, giving his ass a quick squeeze and catching the paper as he pulls away.
“If you’re in that kind of mood,” Gabriel purrs as he turns around, but stops, face growing stormy, when he sees what Sam’s holding. “Hey. Rude.” He snaps his fingers and the sheet disappears from Sam’s hands before he can get a good look at it. It’s old, worn, creased notebook paper, and the handwriting on both sides looks like Sam’s own.
“Come on, I just wanted to see what you had.”
“Should’ve asked.”
“Okay, so can I see it?”
“Not after that performance. My ass is a little offended that you feigned interest.”
“It has my handwriting on it,” Sam insists. “Please?”
Gabriel sighs. “It’s gonna ruin the surprise.”
“My birthday was like three weeks ago.”
“And our anniversary is in mid-June,” Gabriel huffs, but he snaps his fingers and the paper re-appears in Sam’s hands.
Dear Future Wife is scrawled across the top. Sam nearly drops the page in shock, but he doesn’t. He looks over the rest of the page, remembering being nineteen, twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two, and writing down all the things he was going to do for the girl he one day married.
Camp in Glacier Woods has a little check mark next to it, a loose swirl in blue ink that Sam knows must be Gabriel’s handwriting. So do Take you to Perry Cabin, and Fancy dinner under the stars. Perhaps a dozen or so more of the things on the list are checked off, from places Sam wanted to go as a teenager to sexual exploits to little acts of intimacy that he never got around to doing with Jess but has definitely done with Gabriel recently.
Sam sits down on the bed, hands shaking a little. This paper shouldn’t exist. It went up in smoke with the rest of his things from the apartment, the night he lost Jess nearly thirteen years ago. He finally tears his eyes away from the list and looks up at Gabriel. “Where did you get this?”
“It was going to be a surprise,” Gabriel mutters, and snaps his fingers. A cardboard box nearly the size of his duffel appears on the floor between them. “I was going to give the rest to you once the list was complete.”
Sam slowly slides off the bed and crouches down to lift the lid, not quite sure what to expect. Mostly, it’s full of stacks of papers and books, but tossed across the top is is a well-worn green flannel that Sam recognizes instantly. Underneath it is a smaller box, and Sam drops the shirt to pick that up. “This is my trinket box,” he says slowly. “From when I was in college.” He fights with the latch and lets the lid fall back. His favorite little things from childhood and college are all still there: his old toy airplane, Bones’ ID tag, a little good luck magnet one of his friends had given him.
Gabriel has knelt down on the other side of the box, watching, and Sam looks up at him. “I thought all of this burned.”
“I went back in time, picked up the things I thought you’d want the most.” One corner of his mouth curves upwards. “Happy anniversary.”
Sam doesn’t answer, digging through some of the books. He recognizes a few of his old journals and favorite paperbacks, but the large hardcover is unfamiliar. As he picks it up, a handful of photographs slide out from under the cover and flutter to his lap, and a proverbial avalanche follows them when he opens the cover. The book itself is empty.
“I grabbed your photo stack. Thought you might like an album for them,” Gabriel reaches across the box and picks a couple off the floor to look at. Some of them feature Sam’s parents, or his brother, and some are of Sam with his college friends and Jess, and all of them are here and not lost forever.
“Gabriel,” Sam breathes, willing himself not to cry in happiness. “These are… beyond anything I could have hoped for.”
They’re both quiet for a few moments while Sam paws through his new wealth of paper scraps and photos.
“You know I couldn’t have saved her,” Gabriel murmurs. “Right? It would mess up the timeline too badly…”
“Yeah, I know,” Sam answers. “And… even if you could, she’d be better off with her family. Or someone else. Not me.” Sam reverently places one of Jess’ photos in the album, tucking the corners gently into the slots. “I’ve changed. We wouldn’t be right for each other anymore.”
Sam looks up from the album, locking eyes with Gabriel, and gently slides the album off his lap and onto the floor. “Besides, now I have you. And I wouldn’t give you up for the world.”
Gabriel's speechless for a few seconds, and finally stutters out, “I'm not exactly wife material.”
“So we make a new list.” Sam picks the loose-leaf back off the floor. “Dear Future Angel?”
“Don’t think "future" is really necessary. We’re both right here.” Gabriel stands up. “Come on, I’ll help you sort through your box tonight. I want to hit the zip line before it gets dark.”
Sam gets to his feet, steps over the box, and kisses Gabriel with all the love in his heart, cradling his face gently. “Thank you. For all of this. The box, the trips, the camping…”
“Yeah, you owe me big time for that waterfall incident, babe.” Gabriel gives him a cheeky grin. “That new list better include a lot of sex and chocolate.”