That day started out as a typical day for the Winchesters. Sam rolled over, eyes blinking several times, bringing the ugly green paisley wallpaper of their room into focus as his ears perked at the noise that awoke him.

Loud arguing came from the room next to theirs, complete with a door being slammed several times, enough to shake their tiny room. He listened intently, trying to figure out if it was a threat coming for them, but after he heard the words "skanky whore" and "cheating fuck-bucket" he assumed he and his brother were safe for the moment.

Sam rolled onto his side to see Dean still tucked away under the thin blanket, snoring gently. After checking the time on his watch, Sam was surprised to see that he and his brother had slept almost the entire night through. Normally they'd only get odd hours snatched between cases, but it seemed even with Lucifer walking the Earth and the God Squad hounding them, their bodies had had enough 4 hour nights.

Sam sat up and stretched, running a hand over his face while another through his hair. Yawning loudly, he stole another glance at Dean and a smile flashed over his lips. Grabbing a pillow, he chucked it at his sleeping brother. The surprised "Oof! What the fuck?!" that Dean yelped as he snapped awake made Sam cackle maniacally.

Dean's eyes darted all over the room, looking for whoever had attacked him, and he swore colorfully when he saw Sam's evil grin. "Dammit, Sammy, that's not funny!" Dean grumbled, running a hand over his eyes.

"That's for all the stupid shit you've done to me over the years," Sam said triumphantly, knowing the payback was microscopic when compared to all the pranks Dean had pulled on him, but it was still a step in the right direction.

Dean scowled. "Dude, seriously? It's the end of the world, we don't have time for fucking pranks."

Sam rolled his eyes as he got up and made a beeline for the bathroom.

"Come on, man, respect your elder!" Dean called out. "Older brother gets shower dibs!"

Sam smirked as he reached the bathroom door. "Snooze you lose, gramps!"

"Since when did a pranking bug bite you?" Dean asked in a grouchy voice. The question made Sam pause and turned towards Dean, a sudden thought on his mind.

"Hey, Dean? Do you think Gabriel's actually gonna help us?" Sam wondered aloud. Dean, still lying on his back on the bed, threw his hands up.

"Man, it's too early to talk about that flying asshat," Dean grumbled. When he looked up and saw Sam scowling, he shrugged. "I don't know. If he was, he'd have shown up by now, right? It's almost been a week since that T.V. land nightmare. I'd say we're on our own. And good riddance. He's been nothing but trouble since we first ran into him."

Sam's gaze fell to the floor, looking disappointed. "Yeah, suppose your right," Sam said, still looking a little saddened by the matter.

At the time, it seemed like a good idea. The Trickster was the most powerful being Sam and Dean had ever hunted. With Lucifer walking the Earth and the entirety of Heaven trying to get them to say "Yes" to the biggest brotherly showdown ever why wouldn't they ask the Trickster for help? It seemed like a good plan.

Sam was even looking forward to seeing the short, honey-eyed man again, which was downright bizarre considering he hated the demigod with all his being.

Or, at the very least, he should have.

After watching Dean die hundred times at the Mystery Spot, and the 6 months afterward that technically never happened, Sam should have craved the thing a horribly violent death.

Yet…he understood the Trickster's point, about them being too dependent on each other. It didn't change anything, he'd do it all again to save Dean, just like Dean would sell his soul to Hell again to save Sam if necessary (even though Sam would fight him tooth and nail on it).

Still…his righteous anger at the monster had dissipated, been forgiven for the most part. This was the end of times; after all, they really didn't have the luxury of a moral stance if they wanted to survive. Sam thought, naively enough, that the Trickster might even be willing to hear them out without being a complete ass about it.

Sam regretted the entire suggestion when he and Dean got trapped in T.V. Land. By the time he got turned into the Impala, he was ready to run the son of a bitch over with his tires just to make a point.

When they found out about Gabriel being a runaway archangel, Dean's first reaction was to give the all-powerful being a stern talking too about family and standing up for the right thing.

Sam was so disillusioned he hoped they never ran into the short, mischievous asshole ever again.

And yet, here he was a week later, hoping that Gabriel might actually help them out. Here he was, partially hoping to see those golden eyes again, and to hear that know-it-all bastard's laugh.

His life seemed to have turned into a bloody soap opera. With a shake of his head in an irritating, self-berating way, Sam entered the bathroom and slammed the door.

Dean was left alone in the room to ponder his little brother's weird ass mood swing, and decided it was none of his business.

He groaned as the shower roared to life. "Leave some hot water, bitch!" he called out, still miffed that Sam had broken little brother rule #1: big bro always got the shower first.

"Whatever, Jerk!" Sam's muffled voice called over the running water and through the closed door.

Sighing dramatically, Dean rolled his out of the warmth of the barely tolerable plank of wood that had been his bed. He padded over to his duffel bag, and grabbed random jeans and a shirt to wear. However, he realized there was a problem with his pants, as they didn't quite…fit like they did last night.

"What the hell?" he asked aloud, as he tried to pull the denim over his legs, but they wouldn't go up any further. Despite several minutes of determined tugging and cursing, the once slightly baggy jeans were now form-fitted to his legs, and he could hardly get them up his thighs.

Horribly confused, he managed to rip off the pants with a look of suspicious horror, and tried another pair. This pair was just like the first though, they so tight on his legs it was like being stuck in a vacuum-sealed container. The pants sat, half-way up his thighs, and Dean managed to shuffled backwards enough to sit on the end of the bed. Well, he tried to—the pants prevented him from sitting, or really moving at all. The constriction was horribly uncomfortable, and now he was furious.

"SAMMY!" he roared in anger, sure his younger brother had shrunk his pants at some point in the night. Anger turned to fear when a surprised yelp came from the bathroom in response. Dean tried to shuck the pants down his legs to go and help his brother, but they got stuck halfway down. No matter how hard he pulled, they were snug around his knees, not budging.

Just as Dean was deciding if waddling to the bathroom or crawling on his belly would be faster, the door opened. Sam was naked except for a hastily slung towel around his waist. He was still soaked from water of the shower, as evidenced from the puddle growing around his feet.

He stood there, a look of confusion on his face; well, the wet hair plastered to his face made it hard to be exactly sure what his expression was.

"Sammy, what the hell are you-?" Dean stopped, because now he saw that were there dozens of multi-colored gummy bears in Sam's hair, on his shoulders, and trapped in the folds of the towel he was holding around himself. Around his feet was a growing halo of water spots and fruity gummies as they fell off of him.

"Why are you covered in gummy bears?" Dean asked warily. He looked behind Sam to see a smattering of the candy on the bathroom floor behind him.

Sam cleared his throat and pointed at the shower, an awkward look of confusion on his face. "Um…well, the water in the shower sorta…turned into a waterfall of gummy bears?" He motioned at Dean's half-clothed legs, the movement sending several gummies bouncing to the floor. "Why are you…wearing skinny jeans?"

"Skinny what? I'm not! I just…my pants," Dean said while motioning towards his legs, a look of betrayal on his face and tired resignation in his voice.

The two brothers looked at each other for a few extra seconds and then both looked to the ceiling. "GABRIEL!" They shouted in unison.

The Trickster was instantly standing before them, and he was guffawing so loudly Sam was sure they could hear his laughter on the other side of the motel. Dean and Sam now wore matching scowls, and this seemed to only send the archangel off into louder howls of laughter until he was doubled over and almost hyperventilating from lack of air.

He tried, he really did, but Gabriel's laughter was infectious, and soon Sam was laughing too. The tide of gummy bears bouncing all over the room finally made Dean choke out a few loud barks of laughter, though he looked angry about laughing at all.

"Alright, alright," Dean said, the first to get his laughter under control. "Make my pants normal again, Gabriel!"

"Aw, don't you want to be part of the hip crowd?" Gabriel said, a few chuckles still escaping him whenever he caught sight of the bears still in Sam's hair.

"The only hip crowd Dean's part of is 'Help I've fallen and broken my hip,'" Sam said, and laughed loudly.

Dean looked betrayed. "An old person joke, really?"

"If the shoe fits…" Sam shrugged, and Gabriel whistled.

"Got a bit of a Trickster streak in there, Sammy? Just how long were you going to hold that out on me?" Gabriel teased, wiggling his eyebrows at the hunter.

Sam blushed a vibrant shade of pink, and Dean rolled his eyes. "Hey," he said, snapping his fingers to get Gabriel's attention. He motioned towards his pants. "Give us back proper water pressure. And proper-fitting pants. Now."

"Such a fuddy-duddy," Gabriel said, but with a snap of his fingers Dean's pants were normal and properly situated on his hips, and the gummies were gone, replaced with normal water.

Gabriel had debated continuing to mess with Dean, but the hunter was actually not trying to kill him outright, so it was probably a good idea just to keep the streak going. Especially since Dean now knew he was an angel, and could fight accordingly.

Gabriel eyes followed a bead of water run down Sam's chest before being soaked into the towel slung dangerously low on his hip, and closed his eyes. "Hey, Samsquatch, you're distracting me. Finish your shower, yeah?" the archangel said with a salacious grin.

"Actually, I was pretty much done. But I need to go…yeah, my clothes...I'll be right back." Sam sputtered awkwardly. He saw the smile and secretly found how it lit up the Trickster's golden eyes absolutely fascinating.

When Sam tried to move back smoothly he bumped his hip into the side of the door of the bathroom. With a tiny hiss of pain he closed the bathroom door, and knocked his forehead against the door frame a couple times, berating himself for acting stupid in front of Gabriel.

As Sam quickly got dressed, he heard Dean's voice through the door snap, "Oh, no! Don't even think about making a move on my brother!" he barked, sounding disgusting and protective at once.

He quietly pulled his jeans on, in time to hear an indignant scoff from Gabriel. "What, Sam? Geez, Dean-o, just because I window shop doesn't mean I want to take anything home from the store," he said sounding annoyed. Sam could perfectly picture the eye roll that probably accompanied the remark. "You, on the other hand…" Gabriel's voice trailed off, and Sam's heart sank. He really had thought Gabriel was…well, he always seemed so flirty towards him…

But, of course not. Why would an archangel (besides Lucifer) want anything with him? He was the fuck-up who broke the world and started the Apocalypse.

He sighed heavily, and pulled his shirt of his head, making lots of noise so he didn't hear anything else. He should have realized Gabriel was just being himself, a jerk and flirt towards anything that moved. It seemed like no matter what trick Gabriel played, Sam always fell headfirst right into it.

Good mood gone, he opened the bathroom door and walked out in time to see Dean take a swig from a bottle of beer, only to sputter in disgust. Sam knew it was a bit too early even for Dean to think drinking was acceptable, so Gabriel's presence was really doing a number on his older brother's mental state.

"Gabriel!" Dean growled, holding the bottle up accusingly. "What the hell?"

The Trickster, now sitting perched on Sam's bed (magically made) shrugged. "Wasn't sure what you'd go for first, so it seemed fitting to be ready for anything."

"Knock this shit off or I'll be have Kentucky Friend Archangel for dinner!" Dean snarled, and Gabriel simply raised an eyebrow at the human, the look on his face one of challenge.

"Knock it off, you two," Sam said, trying to quell any bloodlust between the two.

He tossed his sleeping clothes onto his duffle as he walked through the room. When Sam's eyes noticed the made bed and the archangel sitting on it, he quirked an eyebrow up, but Gabriel ignored it.

Sam saw the beer in Dean's hand, and sighed. "Bit early, don't you think?" he asked, keeping his voice neutral while rolling his sleeves up to his elbows.

Dean motioned towards the angel. "It was his fault!" he said with a whine. "He made all the booze into piss-warm water! That's both gross and a capital punish—"

Sam cut him off with a glare, and the older Winchester fell into a sullen silence.

Gabriel looked impressed. "That's trick you need to teach me, Sam-a-lam!" he said cheerfully.

Sam made an infamous bitchface at the archangel for the nickname. "What do you want, Gabriel?" he asked matter-of-factly, all comfortable familiarity from earlier gone.

Something changed while the hunter had gotten dressed, but Gabriel had no idea what it was to make Sam seem so distant. Weren't they just laughing together a few minutes ago? Seeing Sam laugh was such a rare thing that Gabriel always appreciated those rare smiles. The way the smile broke over his face like the sun at sunrise—slow, but suddenly beautiful and dazzling. I'm gonna have to figure out a way to put that smile back on his face.

Gabriel realized with a start that both hunters were watching him with intense suspicion, and probably had been for a few moments. The realization that he had been thinking about Sam like that made Gabriel actually squirm under the intensity of their gazes.

"I thought about what you said," he started slowly, like he was dragging the words forth from a pit of tar. "And…well, you were right. I'm willing to help you two stand up to my brothers."

Sam and Dean shared an incredulous look, but said nothing. "What changed your mind?" Sam asked quietly.

"You two. Humans in general, to be honest. Despite the fact that you can be royal screw-ups, you still try to do better, to help others in need and fix past mistakes. That dogged determination to do better really speaks to me. I mean, look at what I do, for instance. I try to get people to accept their failings and do better."

"By making it rain gummy bears, hallelujah?" Sam said, an unconscious smirk perked up the edge of his lips.

"Okay, fine. Sometimes it's just fun, especially with you two knuckleheads. You really need to learn to lighten up a little," Gabriel finished.

"We'll get on that after the Apocalypse is over," Dean said, scowling. "By the way, how exactly are you planning on helping us? Because, if this morning was any demonstration, you can show yourself out the room."

"Temper, temper Winchester," Gabriel said, shaking a finger at Dean while tsking in a disappointed tone at him. "Are you really trying to put my resume through the ringer? I'm an archangel, you chump! I might have been a runaway, but I'm still connected to the home office. Unlimited food, ammo, gas, protection. Ask and ye shall receive."

"What's the price for this divine intervention?" Sam asked, keeping his voice and face impassive. He could not afford to get his hopes up at the idea of Gabriel actually being helpful.

A night with you would be awesome, a little voice in the back of Gabriel's mind chirped. Aloud, he said "I will help you two fight the good fight, but I won't fight Michael, and I won't fight Lucifer. They're my brothers, and I'm not going to hurt them." Gabriel spoke with finality.

Dean, not thinking like usual, actually scoffed. "Then what good are you?" he asked.

Both Sam and Gabriel raised incredulous eyebrows at the older hunter. "What?!" they both said in unison, Sam sounding more horrified and Gabriel sounding more shocked. They looked at each other, then turned back to the Dean.

"If you won't fight Michael or Lucifer, which is what you're doing now, then we don't need you. We have money, and we have Cas for protection," Dean stated.

"Dean," Sam started. "Don't be stupid! We have an archangel willing to help us, and you're gonna pass him over because he doesn't want to take a swing at the ball?"

"Wow, and here I was, thinking Dean was the smart one for figuring out I was an angel," Gabriel said in disappointment.

Dean turned from them, and walked over to the little table he had left his beer bottle. A careful sniff revealed it was alcoholic again, and he took a huge gulp of it.

Sam took a few steps towards him, trying to keep his voice neutral. If he got mad, Dean would get defensive and become really stubborn about not asking for Gabriel's assistance. He had to reason with Dean, although even having to reason with his older brother on this was ridiculous.

"Hey, I know when I'm not wanted," Gabriel said. Just before he disappeared, Sam's arm was suddenly on his shoulder, holding him there for a moment.

Sam looked at Gabriel with pleading, apologetic eyes, and Gabriel smiled, trying to comfort Sam. He winked at the younger Winchester, and said "Welp, when you decide you want to discuss this like mature adults, call me." With that, the Trickster was gone.

Sam could have sworn there was a hurt tone in the archangel's good-bye, and Sam immediately whipped around towards Dean's back.

"Dean, what the hell was that?!" he demanded, voice getting loud without his control. "Any other allies you want to say 'screw you' to? Maybe wanna call Cas, or Bobby, and tell them to fuck off too?"

Dean whirled around, mouth a set line on his face, eyes flashing dangerously. "Don't even think about comparing that flying douchebag to Bobby, or Cas," he said angrily.

He motioned towards where Gabriel had just been standing. "Come on, Sam! This is the same dick that killed me over 100 times, and got us trapped in nightmare re-run land. He's one of them. He wouldn't help us take out his own brothers. He was playing us."

"Why would he do that? He said he wasn't working for either side. If he really wanted to, he could drop us off at either Michael or Lucifer's feet without us being able to stop him!" Sam said loudly. "He's powerful enough to stop us himself. Why make the offer? I think he wants to derail the Apocalypse just as much as we do, Dean."

"If he did, why not fight Michael? Or Lucifer? If the guy's not willing to kill the Devil, what good is he to us?"

Sam groaned loudly, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You wouldn't kill me," Sam said quietly after a tense moment passed.

Dean's eyes narrowed. "What are you-"

"Dad, Gordon, everyone who was convinced I was, am, the next Antichrist? You tried to save me, Dean. Even when I was supposed to, hell, when I went dark side you wouldn't hurt me. Remember when Meg possessed me, and I almost killed Jo? You didn't know I was possessed, and you still wouldn't hurt me!

"Michael is a righteous dick and Lucifer is an angry, slighted younger brother. Don't you think Gabriel might feel the same towards his family that we do to each other? I mean, hell Dean, that's the whole problem right now, isn't it? We won't kill each other, so why should you expect Gabriel to kill Lucifer or Michael when we won't?"

Dean opened his mouth to say something, but closed it silently. He swallowed and clenched his jaw, trying to keep his anger in check. Sam could tell he wanted to say something else, but he wouldn't.

With an angry huff, Dean walked over to the bed, grabbed his shoes, jacket, and keys to the Impala, before storming out.

"Where are you-?"

"OUT!" Dean snapped, and he slammed the door behind him.

A part of Sam's mind hoped that whoever had been arguing this morning had been woken up by their argument and door-slamming.

Mostly, Sam was suddenly tired. He flopped down onto his back on the made bed, and put a pillow over his face to yell into. Dean is so infuriating sometimes!

The Impala's engine roared to life, and Sam heard the car tear out of the parking lot. Hopefully when Dean came back in an hour or so, he'd been less pissed, maybe even more willing to give the idea of Gabriel's help the merit it deserved.

Sam should have been the one angry about Gabriel's sudden about face. He should have been the one overly suspicious of anything the Trickster offered for a relatively cheap price. But, he couldn't ignore how Gabriel's offer had made him feel like, maybe, there was way to actually fight destiny. Cas was looking for God, but Sam couldn't count on that working out well for them. Sam could only count on Dean, and Cas, and Bobby, and perhaps Gabriel.

Maybe Gabriel wasn't a lost cause. Sam understood his conditions, thought them perfectly acceptable; it was just Dean being stubborn. Hopefully that's all it was. Sam didn't really want to think that this was simply another trick, another test with some fucked up scruple at the end.

Sam couldn't handle that again. He would kill Gabriel if that was the case.

Finding the motel room suddenly too hot and stuffy, Sam grabbed his shoes, wallet, jacket, and decided to go for a walk. Go find a diner or something and get some food. His stomach growled loudly, agreeing with this plan, and so Sam set off.

Since Sam was ridiculously tall, and his stride was insane, Gabriel found that gliding was the best way to keep up with the young hunter. As he was invisible, Sam didn't notice Gabriel flying next to and sometimes above him, though the wind from his wings would send a chill down Sam's spine at its cool touch.

Gabriel wasn't surprised at the course the argument had taken as he watched, invisible, from the roof. He figured Dean would be suspicious, and honestly that was the best policy when it came to supernatural creatures offering deals that sounded too good to be true. No, what surprised Gabriel was Sam's defense of him, his integrity, and even his motivations.

That had been interesting, considering Sam had borne the brunt of Gabriel's tricks and was still willing to forgive the archangel. Even more interesting was the fact that he seemed to understand the archangel's terms, and found them acceptable.

Gabriel found Sam was a fascinating human. He'd always been fond of Sam, ever since they met at the community college. They'd hit it off right away. Except for the whole "I'm a hunter; you're a monster; we must kill the other" shtick, Gabriel liked Sam.

It was the during the Mystery Spot debacle that Gabriel really started to fall for Sam.

The kid was handsome (irritatingly so), tall (so mockingly tall), strong (for a human), and smart enough to catch the Trickster's minuscule slip-up in his own game. (Really? It was the strawberry syrup that gave him away?)

What was there not to like about the kid? Even with the whole thing of drinking demon blood and being Lucifer's true vessel, Sam had a heart of gold and a soul that shone with the brightness of a sun.

Gabriel wanted Sam, but he didn't really believe Sam shared any affection towards him. After all, Gabriel was a Trickster Archangel with an extreme sweet tooth. Even if Sam could accept his Trickster job and unhealthy eating habits, it was the angel part that would always stand between them.

Sam and Dean Winchester hated angels. Castiel was the only exception to the rule, and sometimes even he seemed to still be on probation despite the fact he was Falling for them.

Sam walked briskly down the sidewalk, now a couple blocks from the motel and deep in thought. He wasn't paying attention to his steps, though, and was heading into a seedier part of the town they were staying in.

Normally being 6'4" tall was enough of a deterrent from muggers and other troublemakers, but Gabriel flew ahead and whipped up a strong wind to hit Sam's body. Unconsciously, he changed direction, out of the wind, and started heading towards a nearby diner.

Gabriel rolled his eyes at Sam's obliviousness; had he been any other creature, he could have killed the Winchester. Instead, he had just gone out of his way to protect the guy. Part of him wanted to use this as evidence to prove that he was, in fact, on their side. He knew, however, that the idea he was followed would anger Sam, and so he kept himself invisible and watchful over him.

The hunter's brow was furrowed, and Gabriel was tempted to peek inside Sam's mind, see what was going on, but decided against it. He really hoped Dean would pull his head out of his ass and accept Gabriel's help.

The offer had been genuine, after all; Gabriel knew the Winchesters weren't going to play by the rules. It wasn't in their nature to do anything by the book. They were stupid, stubborn, and foolish, but at the same time they were selfless, courageous, and compassionate.

They were the perfect champions for humanity because of their flaws, and their determination to do better.

Gabriel wasn't ready to throw himself in front of Lucifer as a sacrificial offering, but he was willing to back his pick of the winning team.

Also…let's be honest. Working with the Winchesters meant working with Sam, and Gabriel really wanted to have an excuse to work next to, and talk with Sam.

Maybe even start something with Sam…

Sam got to the small hole-in-the-wall diner, and went inside. He got a booth near a window, ordered some coffee, and checked his phone almost a dozen times in a ten minute span, waiting for a text or call from Dean. Gabriel waited outside, sitting on the roof of the building and watched over him.

He knew he should have been working, going off and teaching assholes lessons and stuff, but he didn't want to leave. Gabriel felt comforted, knowing that nothing would hurt Sam while he was there. Part of him wondered what life would have been like if he'd stayed in Heaven, and if Sam had been assigned his charge. Not that he would have been—archangels were never guardian angels.

Well, normally they weren't. If Gabriel wasn't anything, he certainly wasn't an ordinary angel.

Suddenly, the big black Impala was pulling into the diner's parking lot. Dean was looking less angry, and more annoyed now as he strode inside. He walked right towards the booth were Sam was sitting, and they started an animated conversation. They were probably still trying to work out Gabriel's angle from his offer.

He didn't tune into their conversation this time. Instead, he waited, watching for any trouble of either the hellish or heavenly sort, and let the brothers work it out themselves.

Even if they don't except my offer, I'll still keep an eye on them, Gabriel decided. Especially Sammy. I can't let Lucifer taint him, not while I'm alive, anyway. Cas can only do so much for them now. I wonder if Dean realizes how far Cas has fallen…?

"I'm telling you, Sammy, this is a stupid ass idea," Dean said as he gathered up a large forkful of scrambled eggs.

Sam nodded, pushing his own breakfast around, forcing himself to eat though he had no real appetite. He ate another bite of omelet before nodding. "Yeah, Dean, I get that. You've mentioned it a few times already."

Dean shot Sam a look, but didn't speak. Instead, he scarfed down the food on his plate before downing his coffee has well.

Sam was surprised how quickly Dean had returned. Usually he was out for a few hours; drives usually turned into stops at bars, but this time he was back fairly quickly. He was also a little calm when he came back, and though they'd picked the argument back up, it wasn't as violent as they usually went.

"I talked to Cas," Dean said simply. Sam's head shot up, and he looked at his brother in surprise.

"Really? What did—what did he say? Is he okay?" Sam asked.

Dean nodded, hand rubbing the back of his neck unconsciously. "Yeah, he's still on his God-hunt, but…I asked his advice on Gabriel's offer."

"…And?" Sam asked, motioning for Dean to elaborate when his brother stopped talking. Sometimes having a normal discussion with Dean was like pulling teeth. Luckily, Sam had learned long ago how to move the conversation along despite Dean's hesitance.

"Despite Gabriel's…antics, he thinks we should accept the help," Dean said after a while. He sounded pained—the idea of accepting an angel's help, especially that angel's help, seemed to make his recently filled stomach roll uncomfortably.

"Wow. I figured he'd still be mad about T.V. Land," Sam said, curious what exactly Gabriel had put Cas through. At least Sam and Dean has understood how to play to character roles—Cas didn't understand T.V. tropes, so he wouldn't have survived any such dramas like C.S.I. and that stupid hospital show.

Maybe Gabriel had taken a little pity on Cas's lack of pop culture understanding, and instead put Cas through weird competitions, like Ninja Warrior or Hole in the Wall. The idea of Cas bending himself in a pretzel shape in order to fit through a strangely shaped hole suddenly made Sam bark out a loud laugh, causing Dean to look at his suspiciously.

"Just a funny thought. Sorry," Sam backpedaled.

"You're so weird," Dean said, like it was a disease that he hoped to never catch (though Sam was pretty sure he'd gotten it from Dean originally. He was, after all, the eldest brother).

"Anyway," Dean said pointedly. "I guess if Cas says it's okay, it's okay. He wouldn't lead us down the wrong road this late in the game," Dean said quickly, and Sam looked absolutely shocked.

"…That's it? You're okay with this?" Sam asked. He was slightly tempted to splash some holy water in Dean's face just to be sure.

Dean never accepted something this fast. Ever. He fought tooth and nail and then drank a dozen beers before he even started to consider something.

Dean shrugged. "Yes, Sam. Jesus, are you really going to over-analyze it? You had a point earlier. It's easy to think of these guys as the enemy, but then you had to go and remind me that Gabriel's in the same boat I was. Brother going dark side, and no idea what do to about it."

Sam sat back in his booth. "Huh," was all he said, while images of Gabriel's golden eyes danced around in his mind's eye. Sam smiled, and it was one of actual mirth.

"Cool. Maybe we aren't as screwed as we originally thought," he said.

"Don't make me regret this," Dean threatened, but Sam ignored him. Dean rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest, sighing in exasperation at Sam's antics.

Thinking to placate the archangel, Sam now had a mountain of chocolate bars, boxes of gummies, and various flavor bags of Skittles and M&Ms, all arranged in a neat little pile on his bed. He just hoped that the sugary offering (enough sugar to kill a diabetic just by looking at it) would sooth any ruffled feathers Gabriel might have.

Dean thought it was stupid idea, and still did, but Sam wasn't taking a chance. If Dean was willing to let Gabriel stick around, he damn sure was going to make the archangel feel at least a little welcome.

"Um, hello Gabriel. It's Sam Winchester. Um…so, I know this morning we kinda got off on the wrong foot, but we'd like to talk to you. Please."

Sam and Dean stood awkwardly in the motel room for several long seconds. When 30 seconds went by, Dean let out a long sigh. "Well, guess there goes that idea." He didn't sound very contrite to Sam, though. Almost relieved.

"Dean says he's sorry about being a dick earlier," Sam threw out.

Dean became indignant. "Hey, I never-!"

"Sam, Sam, Sam," taunted Gabriel behind them. They turned to see him leaning against the wall, looking smug. "Lying to an archangel is never a good foot to start off a working relationship!"

Sam ducked his instinctively. Dean simply looked annoyed.

"He might not have said it, but I wasn't lying!" Sam argued. "We want to accept your offer."

Gabriel tilted his head, eyes narrowed. "And what makes you think I'm stilling offering it? You tossed it back in my face earlier, remember? I think the word 'useless' might have been in there, too."

Sam shot Dean a pleading look. He figured Gabriel was still angry, and they couldn't make this work if Dean was going to be…well, Dean about the situation.

His older brother saw the look, and saw Gabriel watching him carefully. He swallowed as sudden wave of nervousness dried out his throat. Dean might have acted tough and nonchalant, but he was scared, and he knew if he screwed this up they'd be one ally short, maybe even make one more enemy to run from.

He was tired of running.

Dean pointed towards the bed, and Gabriel's eyes followed, becoming round and surprised at the mountain of candy. "We, uh, weren't sure what you liked. So, kinda got you some of everything," he said quietly, looking everywhere else but the angel.

"A mountain of candy is your contrite offering?" Gabriel asked, voice suddenly low and dangerous.

Sam looked at Dean, a look of "oh, crap, I think we screwed up," on his panicked face.

Dean, still acting calm and collected, held up a hand and made a "wait a second" gesture, before striding over to the small fridge in the room.

Gabriel looked surprised when Dean came back, three beers in his hands. He gave one to a confused-looking Sam, and offered the other to Gabriel.

The archangel narrowed his eyes, but took the prescribed beer. Dean opened his first, Sam following his brothers' lead. Gabriel ripped the metal cap off with a flick of his wrist, and cautiously took a whiff of the beer.

He'd never acquired a taste for beer, mead or wine better suited his palette for their smooth, sweeter taste. Still, he didn't smell any holy oil in the beer.

Dean took a swig of beer then looked at the other two men. His emerald green eyes locked onto gold eyes. "Gabriel. I get why you won't go after Lucifer or Michael. Although I still don't really trust you, Sam does, and that's good enough for me."

Sam looked at Gabriel, whose eyes were narrowed slightly, trying to figure out Dean's angle. Though, it was obvious, there was no angle. Dean Winchester, in his roundabout way, just apologized, as evidenced by his sharing of the beer and the half-assed attempt at empathizing with the enemy.

Finally, Gabriel chuckled. "Well, this is certainly a first. Dean Winchester, trying to be nice to an angel." He looked at Sam (who was looking relieved), and winked. "Miracles do happen!" he said triumphantly, and up-ended the bottle in one go.

"Alright," Sam said, though there was a smile spread over his face. He drank some of his own beer, and grinned at Dean.

Beer gone, Gabriel snapped, and the pile of candy was gone. "Thanks for the road trip snacks, guys, but I've got some things to go take care of," he said cheerfully.

"Wait, where are you going?" Sam asked, face fallen just a little.

Gabriel grinned. "Don't worry, Sammy! You guys forget, you're the only ones who know who I am. The rest of the world knows me as the Trickster Loki. This means I have assholes to enlighten in order to keep up my cover. But don't worry, buckos! If you need me, just pray. Just don't make it over anything stupid, okay? I'm not here to open pickle jars and make your beds. Real emergency stuff, got it? Awesome, catch you losers later!"

Just like that, Gabriel vanished, leaving the Winchesters alone in their motel room.

Dean scoffed. "Wow. Still as big a dick as ever."

"Dean," Sam said. "Thank you. For trusting me."

Dean ignored the relieved look on Sam's face. He bit his lip to keep the retort to himself, about how Gabriel could still screw them over. It was a rare moment when they weren't arguing over the end of the world, and Dean decided to keep it that way and enjoy some down time with Sam.

"Hey, we're running low on cash, wanna head to that bar in town?"

Sam woke up the next morning alone in his motel room. Dean's bed was empty, unslept in, and Sam reached for his phone to check his messages. Sure enough there was text from Dean, simply the word "Geronimo!" in it.

After spending the entire evening hustling pool and darts, Sam had wandered home and passed out. He left Dean at the bar, eyeing some blonde woman in short-shorts and a shirt that barely covered her breasts.

Dean must have gone home with her (or someone else). "Geronimo" was their code for "Wasn't kidnapped, just getting laid. Don't report me as missing."

"Lucky bastard," Sam murmured to himself sleepily. Though he had no interest in one-night stands, it still was annoying how much sex Dean actually did manage to have on a regular basis, end of the world aside.

Sam could get laid, easily, but he preferred to have a connection with the person he was going to sleep with. The last one he'd had been with was Ruby…and now that Lucifer was trying to ride his ass to the prom, sex hadn't exactly been on Sam's radar.

Gabriel's smirking face flashed across his mind, but Sam ignored it. Nope, not going there, nope, nope, nope.

He wasn't going to think about Gabriel.

He wasn't going to think about Gabriel's voice in his ear or teeth nibbling on his neck.

He wasn't going to think about Gabriel pretending his cock was a lollipop, slowly running his tongue up and down him, golden eyes watching him the entire time—

"Nope!" he adamantly said aloud, sitting up. His morning wood was already demanding attention, but Sam decided to try and ignore it. He couldn't afford this unrequited attraction shit, especially not when the man of his affection was an Archangel of the Lord.

A poor example of an Archangel, maybe, but one nonetheless.

Sam got out of bed and padded towards the bathroom. As he scratched his face on the way, he realized his face was scruffier than he preferred, and decided he needed to shave before hitting the shower.

Still half-asleep and trying desperately to ignore the now throbbing hard-on, Sam decided to give his face a good once over with the razor. He figured that, if he tried hard enough, the erection would go away by the time he was done.

Squirting the white foam onto his hand, he smothered his face over the stubble, thinking that the shaving cream felt a little weird this morning. He shrugged, and took a disposable razor to his face. It only took a few strokes through the white cream for his razor to become clogged and drag over his skin, rubbing a few places raw.

Now horribly confused, partially sleepy, and still hard, Sam looked at the clogged razor more closely. He touched the cream that remained on his face, and brought it to his nose, and breathed in deeply. The chemically, clean smell that should had been there was replaced with a sickeningly sweet smell. He stuck the very tip of his tongue out to taste it.

"Whip cream?" he said in confusion. He looked at the can (it said shaving cream) he looked at the razor (suddenly understanding why it wasn't working) and his confusion turned to anger.

"Gabriel!" he bemoaned. He turned around to try and wipe the stuff off his face, but he'd forgotten his towel, so he walked back into room-

-Only to find Gabriel sitting on his bed with an expectant look on his face.

When he saw the betrayed, kicked-puppy look on Sam's half asleep face, the clogged razor held limply in one hand, and the hunter's face still covered in the desert topping, Gabriel burst into loud, howling laughs. "Your FACE!" he guffawed, rolling around on Sam's bed, unable to breathe.

Sam still stood in the doorway, unsure what to do. He realized that, yes, the sight of him at the moment was probably pretty funny. Yet, he was too embarrassed to laugh, and not quite angry enough to threaten the all-powerful being.

If being the brunt of a fairly innocent joke kept Gabriel around, so be it.

Besides, the sight of Gabriel laughing was one that Sam would file away for a future depressing day.

"Alright, Gabriel, very funny. Now fix my shaving cream and clean this up!" he said sternly.

He was met instead with a bright flash of light that left spots dancing in the corners of his vision. Gabriel, still snickering, snapped the camera out of existence so Sam couldn't destroy the evidence. He'd get a long laugh at that image of Sam Winchester another day.

After Gabriel snapped the picture, he was left with a tired and cranky Sammy, still covered in whip cream. His golden eyes flashed at the hunter a little hungrily, but he hid it with a cheerful greeting.

"Ah, where's your sense of humor, Sammy?" Gabriel teased. "Whip cream not your thing? What if I covered you in chocolate syrup next time?"

Sam was very thankful to whatever deity was listening that the cream actually hid the blush that rose in his cheeks. "Just snap this mess away, please?"

Gabriel sat up on the bed and made a "come here," gesture. "Well, that's no fun, Sam. Come here, I'll fix you up." He snapped up a warm, fluffy, slightly damp washcloth and patted the spot on the bed next to him.

Sam watched the Trickster warily for a few long seconds. He knew Gabriel could clean him instantly, but he decided to humor the archangel for a few moments. It wasn't like he was doing anything else.

Though half his face was still under the cream, Sam still managed to give Gabriel a bitchface to rival the ages. He tossed his useless razor into the tiny trashcan in the bathroom and started towards the bed.

The archangel actually had to pinch his leg to keep from bursting out into another round of rancheous laughter at the sight. Sam Winchester, the Boy King, Lucifer's vessel, the best hunter on the planet, momentarily bested by whip cream. It was a proud day for dairy products everywhere.

Sam sat heavily on the edge of the bed, keeping several inches of space between him and Gabriel, sighing in both exasperation and irritation. His face was starting to itch, and the razor burned areas were stinging slightly.

He closed his eyes, determined to not look at how close Gabriel was. How close his lips were, and he was definitely not going to get a hard on less than a foot away from the archangel. Nope, nope, no way.

"Sam, if you scrunch up your face like that, I won't be able to get everything off," Gabriel chastised gently, and Sam instantly relaxed. Suddenly the warm and damp cloth was being gingerly, almost tenderly, wiped across his forehead. Gabriel's other hand held his chin so he could move Sam's head when needed, and Sam stayed perfectly still, not opening his eyes or fidgeting.

It said something for Sam's good nature when he was willing to close his eyes and trust the Trickster to not do anything to him. Gabriel appreciated the fact that Sam let him get this close, even with their rocky history.

The soft cloth, the slow, tender movements, the closeness to the Trickster…Sam unconsciously squirmed just a bit, and Gabriel glanced down to see Sam's sleeping boxers impressively tented. Since Sam couldn't see him, Gabriel allowed a huge, mischievous grin to spread across his face.

"You know, this just isn't working," Gabriel said, sounding a little annoyed. Sam opened one eye to look at him, and Gabriel was thrilled to see the normally bright hazel eye was darkened with lust.

"What's wrong?" Sam asked huskily, the effort he put into making the statement sound nonchalant was adorable.

"I mean this isn't working, Sammy. Don't you have your listening ears on?" Gabriel teased him. He leaned close to Sam, closing the gap between them but managing to not actually touch. His lips next to Sam's ear, the hunter shuddered unconsciously when Gabriel's hot breathe danced across his exposed neck.

"I'm thinking of a more…entertaining way to clean you up," the archangel whispered into Sam's ear. Just to make his meaning absolutely clear, he licked a trail from Sam's earlobe to his neck, just under his chin. Gabriel pulled back, saw Sam breathing heavily in lust and shock, and smirked. "Interested?" he said, wiggling his eyebrows for effect.

Sam's momentary shock at the archangel's actions was drowned out mere seconds later by a tsunami of lust. Before he could assemble a list of reasons that this was a terrible idea, and he'd be stupid to fall for such a trick, his long, strong arms wrapped around the smaller man.

Large hands found purchase on his back and cupped over his ass. Sam roughly dragged Gabriel into his embrace, their matching bulges rubbing together through Sam's boxers and Gabriel's jeans.

"Fuck yes," Sam said huskily, drowning out the voices of protest in his mind. The loudest one sounded suspiciously like Dean saying You always make bad decisions, Sammy! Is this gonna be any different?

Sam was well practiced in the art of ignoring Dean, and he put those skills to use now.

There was still a bit of whip cream on Sam's face, but Gabriel snapped, the offending desert topping magicked away for the moment. They could play with that later. Right now, he wanted Sam just as he was, perfect in his imperfect way.

Years of sexual tension spilt over into their first kiss. It was rough and playful and both fought for dominance during it. Gabriel always assumed Sam would be shy and unsure, but Sam was confident and gave as well as he got with the archangel. Teeth nipped bottoms lips, tongues danced and entwined, hands grabbed for shoulders for purchase. Though he was good, Sam did need to breathe, and he broke the kiss off first.

"You magicked away the cream," he said in a surprised accusation.

Gabriel grinned. "You wanna stop?" he asked innocently.

Sam smiled back. "Hell no. Just figured you'd follow through on your promise."

"Oh, I intend to," Gabriel said. He positioned himself so he was straddling Sam's lap, hungrily licking and sucking trails up and down Sam's exposed neck. Sam couldn't help the whimper that escaped him when Gabriel sucked the skin under his chin, or when he chose that exact moment to grind against Sam's hips. The movement sent sparks flying through his cock, making him gasp slightly.

Sam pulled Gabriel off his neck, making Gabriel pout at his toy being taken away. Sam laughed at that, but in a quick motion he ripped his sleeping shirt over his head, exposing his entire upper body to the adventurous archangel. Gabriel made an appreciative noise.

"You like?" Sam asked.

Gabriel rolled his eyes. "Eh, it's alright," he said playfully, running his hands up and down the toned chest and abs. Gabriel's hands felt cool to the touch, and the slow movements caused goose bumps to pepper Sam's skin.

"Just alright?" Sam teased, reaching forward to run a hand over the bulge in Gabriel's jeans, making the archangel hum.

"Sammy Winchester, teasing the hell out of an Archangel," Gabriel said in a conspirator's whisper. "This is definitely not what I was expecting," he admitted, closing his eyes and sighing.

Sam's hand, even through denim, was making it hard to put coherent sentences together.

"You just covered my face in whip cream, ass," Sam said, rubbing a little harder for emphasis. "You keep making suggestions and put images in my head…did you really think I wouldn't pay you back for all that teasing?" Sam ducked forward and sucked hard on Gabriel's neck, making him shudder.

"Too many clothes," Gabriel decided suddenly, and with a snap they were completely naked. Sam (startled at the sudden skin-to-skin contact) gasped, but it was a happy noise.

Without warning, Sam turned and took Gabriel with him, both of them tumbling onto the bed, and Sam ended up on top of the archangel. He attacked his mouth hungrily, hands exploring the angel's stocky chest and stomach. The hot touch left trails of warmth over Gabriel's skin.

Sam broke the clash of teeth and tongues, and Gabriel was even gasping a little. He looked at Sam, eyebrows arched high at the challenge the hunter was posing. "You really think you can top an Archangel?" Gabriel asked, partially curious and partially challenging.

Sam rolled his hips forward, grinding his cock against Gabriel's, making them both see stars at the intense pleasure. "You've been nothing but a tease for the past two days, never mind all the other times we met," Sam said, his voice deep with lust. "You really think I was just going to roll over and take that? Oh, no. You might have started it, Gabriel, but I'm ending it," he whispered into Gabriel's ear, thrusting hard against the other's leg for added effect.

"And to think I figured you were a blushing virgin under all that hair and good intentions," Gabriel said with a delighted laugh. His smaller hands ran over Sam's muscled back and sides, following the dips and curves from the hunter's shoulders to his hips then his ass.

"You know what they say about assuming, Gabriel," Sam admonished it with a mischievous smile, and he latched onto Gabriel's neck again, licking and sucking while grinding hard against the other's cock.

Gabriel had to admit, letting someone else take the lead was a new experience. Usually he was top because he was male demigod or archangel, depending on the situation. This time, he decided to let Sam take charge. It was defiantly fun to see calm and good-natured Sam Winchester a dominating top in bed.

Thank you, Dad, for making Sam Winchester not a virgin when it comes to being with a guy, and thank you extra for making him have a voracious appetite.

Gabriel gasped as Sam ground harder against his cock, and sucked harder on his neck, leaving a very colorful hickey in his wake.

Sam moved downwards, and pulled a hard bud of a nipple into his mouth, gently rolling and teasing it with his tongue. Gabriel squirmed slightly, sighing in pleasure. One of Sam's large hands wrapped around his cock and started pumping slowly up and down.

After a moment, Sam released the nub from the pleasurable torture, and lifted his hand from Gabriel's member, causing Gabriel to arch his hips unconsciously to follow his hand.

Sam rolled off the angel, to the side of him instead, and waved his fingers at Gabriel. "Care to summon some lube, Archangel of the Lord?" Sam asked innocently, though the look he wore was anything but innocent.

Gabriel shivered at that intense, desire-filled look coupled with his newly sullied title, and eagerly snapped up a bottle in Sam's waiting hand.

"Remember I said only call me for emergencies?" he said, then motioned towards the bottle with a scandalized look on his face.

"A dry hand job is plenty emergency," Sam said, squeezing a generous amount of the lube onto his hand. He cupped the hand in front of his mouth and blew gently to warm it up.

"Aw, you do care!" Gabriel said, but before he could tease the Winchester more Sam leaned down and enclosed Gabriel's lips once again, but this wasn't much as a fight for dominance as a sloppy dance of tongues. Sam's nibbled on Gabriel's lower lip and the angel allowed his tongue into his mouth. He managed to gasp around the tongue Sam's warm and slicked-up hand enclosed around him cock, and started a slow rhythm.

Distracted him with his tongue and lips while gaining speed as he moved and down the shaft, Gabriel's body started to careen towards the edge of an impressive orgasm. He grabbed Sam's shoulders and jerked him closer, fingernails digging into Sam's skin, but even in this state he managed to not break his collarbone, or even bruise it.

Sam broke the kiss and stared into Gabriel's eyes. The intensity of those hazel eyes looking right at him (not his vessel but Gabriel itself) was what did it—Gabriel's hips shuddered and his back arched off the bed as Sam stroked him through one of the most intense orgasms in his exceptionally long lifespan. Strings of white painted Gabriel's belly and Sam's hand, and the hunter gently continued to move his hand up and down until nothing was left to milk from the archangel.

Lying on the bed and panting, Gabriel lifted his head up to look at Sam, who was wearing a self-satisfied smug on his face. "Where the hell did that come from?" he demanded.

Sam grinned. "You," he said, motioning towards the mess. With a huff Gabriel snapped the mess away.

"Smartass," Gabriel muttered affectionately.

Sam was smiling, genuinely, and now that he'd gotten Gabriel off he looked so happy he'd forgotten his own demanding hard on that was seeking attention.

Angelic stamina for the win, Gabriel thought, when he suddenly flung himself onto Sam, knocking the hunter onto his back on the bed. He looked up to see Gabriel straddling his hips from above, eyeing his cock like it was the newest flavor of the month lollipop.

"You could have done that at any time?" Sam asked.

"Comes with the perks of being an archangel: super-strength, good looks, and plenty of back-up batteries for more vigorous bedroom activities. You got the complete package, Sammy."

Sam laughed. "So I did. Now, are you going to gloat all day, or are you going to do something about this predicament you've gotten me into?" Sam motioned towards his cock, jutting into the air with beads of pre-come on the head. Now that he wasn't thoroughly distracted by squirming, moaning archangel, he was very hard, almost to the point of being painful.

Gabriel suddenly shimmied down Sam's legs, and had his lips around the head of Sam's cock before the hunter knew what hit him. Gabriel's tongue flicked across the slit, and he sucked hard, making Sam gasp loudly.

"Ga-Gabe…" Sam moaned when the archangel started quickly bobbing his head, still sucking and making his tongue dance over the sensitive skin and veins. One large hand found purchase on Gabriel's shoulder, and the other became entangled in his auburn, almost golden locks. "Keep that up and I'm—I'm gonna…"

Gabriel popped of the cock with a lewd sound, and Sam groaned at the loss of sensation. "We'll marathon later, big guy," Gabriel promised with a grin. "Right now, you need some serious lovin'." With that said, Gabriel took the entire cock into his mouth, deep-throating Sam's penis and sucking hard.

With that little movement, Sam's orgasm was immediate and intense. His hips shuddered and he spasmed slightly, moaning Gabriel's name under his breath as he came.

The archangel swallowed everything without hesitation, and gingerly pulled off the satisfied member as it quickly shrank down. Gabriel looked up and Sam, a huge grin on his face.

"Thank you," Sam said sincerely, which made Gabriel smile a rare, genuine smile.

Unsure what to do now that the fun was over and figuring Sam might have an existential crisis after having had sex with him, Gabriel made a move to leave the bed. He figured Sam would want some time to himself, to gather his thoughts about their little impromptu tango.

Instead, Gabriel was grabbed and pulled into Sam's embrace, falling on top of the hunter who was still lying on his back. Sam, for the first time in a very long time, looked simply content and happy. "That was awesome," he said.

"I generally am," Gabriel agreed.

Sam pulled Gabriel in close, and their lips met once again. This time, however, it wasn't driven by lust or dominance. Instead, it was a simply chaste and tender kiss, one that Gabriel didn't want to break away from. He wanted to keep his lips locked against the smooth, soft lips of Sam, and he wanted to stay that way for the next few eternities.

Eventually, Sam had to breathe, but they could always try again next time.

Just as they broke the kiss and laughed a little awkwardly at each other's eagerness for the kiss to continue, a voice called out.

"SAMMY! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TWO DOING?" Dean shouted, suddenly standing in the open doorway, a bag of donuts in one hand and a cardboard tray with two coffee cups in the other. He looked disgusted and mortified, and he immediately turned around and stalked outside, slamming the door behind him.

Now standing on the doorstep outside his room, still holding the coffee and doughnuts, he tried to blink away to painful mental image of a naked Gabriel on top of a naked Sam, kissing, in their hotel room.

"Oh, God, the more I fight it the more it gets ingrained into my mind!" he moaned, finally setting the food down on the ground and rubbed his eyes several times.

Suddenly, his phone went off announcing a message. Without checking the front of the phone, he flipped it open to find it was a message from Sam:

Geronimo!