I'm back, everybody! Sorry for the long break. Haven't finished this story yet, but I've got a new chapter for you in the meantime, and more on the way.

CHAPTER SEVEN: A One-Man Band to the Bone

Gabriel may have had a pretty great day yesterday just chilling at home with movies and junk food, but he knew he wouldn't be able to stand another day of the same. Cabin fever was already getting to him. Plus, he'd promised Castiel that he'd 'scope out the scene', whatever that meant. Basically, he had to make it look like he wasn't just blatantly relying on his brother's generosity for the foreseeable future.

After Castiel had headed off to work, Gabriel decided to cruise the block and look for 'Help Wanted' signs. Not like he was seriously planning to go from a cushy office job to working the counter of a drugstore or something, but at least it was activity, so he could tell his brother he'd been productive today.

Out in the fresh cool morning, Gabriel perked up considerably. It actually was kind of awesome to be free from the fat-cat business milieu that had always rubbed him the wrong way. Maybe this time he'd actually find something cool to do with his life. He hated to admit it, but his little brother had gotten a bit too close to home when he'd so seriously asked about his 'plans for the future'. Gabriel had always lived day-to-day, preferring to focus on having tons of fun––just in case the world ended tomorrow––rather than develop some overarching purpose to his existence. Family law, he mused. That was what Castiel had said Sam did, wasn't it? Gabriel wasn't entirely sure what 'family law' involved. Divorces and foster homes, perhaps? Sounded pretty depressing.

He found himself staring unseeingly into a shop window at a display of weird fruit juices next to a giraffe-themed bathroom set that appeared to be made entirely of hemp, and blinked, glancing up at the store's name: 'Terra Health'. Oh. This must be the hippie-food place that Castiel had said he'd first bumped into Sam. Couldn't hurt to take a look.

Inside, Gabriel found it more amusing than he'd expected to wander the aisles, scoffing at overpriced products with stupefying ingredient lists. He didn't even know what half of this stuff was. He was peering suspiciously at a bottle of kefir, advertised as being the food that helps people in the Caucasus Mountains live well into their hundreds, when he heard his name being tentatively spoken behind him. "Uh... Gabriel?"

Turning, he felt a grin appear unbidden on his face. "Now that's more than just a coincidence! Third time's a charm, eh, Sammy?"

Sam Winchester was indeed towering hesitantly at the near end of the aisle, seeming equally surprised to encounter Gabriel here. "Hey. I thought that might be you." He began to smile in return. "Didn't know this was your kind of place."

"Oh, it's not," Gabriel assured him. "I'm here for research purposes only. And I must say, my findings are simply astounding." He gestured to the bottle of kefir in his hand. "Exhibit A: why are people so gung-ho about having 'Live and Active Cultures' in everything? Drinking this would feel like committing genocide! It would make more sense to market an edible version of the Roman Empire, or Ancient Greece. Why not serve up a plateful of Mesopotamians, Hittites, or Mayans? Heck, I'd take a bite of the Han Dynasty if you offered me a slice! At least those are dead and inactive cultures––the way I prefer my own food, thank you very much."

Sam had started chuckling at the beginning of Gabriel's rant, and by the time it finished he was laughing out loud and had to put down his shopping basket. "Oh wow," he gasped weakly. "Um, yeah. I...can't argue with that, I guess." Shaking his head, he pushed his hair out of his eyes and finally managed to control his laughter. "Seriously though, have you ever tried kefir? It's good stuff."

Gabriel made a face. "I don't eat anything that comes from a place with 'Health' in its name. I prefer to keep a healthy distance from health food."

Sam's eyebrows quirked in amusement. "How oxymoronic. Come on." He took the bottle and dropped it in his basket, starting down the aisle. Seeing Gabriel's raised eyebrow, he explained over his shoulder "You're going to try it. At least a sip. Honestly, it's delicious. Believe it or not, things can be both healthy and tasty."

Trailing after him, Gabriel scoffed loudly. "I doubt it! I didn't get where I am today by eating rabbit food, you know."

"Oh yeah?" Sam barely paused to grab a tiny bottle of something-seed oil from another shelf. "And where exactly are you today?"

"Well––" Gabriel grimaced, hurrying to keep from getting left behind. "Until a couple of days ago, I was pretty much the darling of high society in this city."

Sam frowned, striding around the corner of the aisle without waiting for the shorter man to catch up. "Yeah? What changed?"

"Ah, long story. I'll tell you later. Hey, listen." In the checkout line, Gabriel finally got the long-legged giant to stand still for a moment. "Buddy, you always dash around like that?" he gasped, and shook his head as Sam opened his mouth. "Shh. Rhetorical question. What I wanted to say was this: I consent to try your dreadful live-and-active-cultures yogurt drink monstrosity upon one condition, namely, that you accompany me to the ice-cream parlor around the corner after we get out of this freaky place and prove to me that you can eat a bowl of ice cream like a normal human being. Deal?"

Sam smirked as he passed the cashier a handful of bills. "Ice cream in the morning? I only had breakfast two hours ago. But okay, fine, it's a deal. I've got to get to the office by eleven, though."

Ten minutes later they were settled at the window table in Gabriel's favorite ice-cream shop, and Sam was eyeing a dish of candy-cane-cookie-dough ice cream with undeserved suspicion. "Believe me," Gabriel assured him. "It is the best flavor here. And I've had them all, multiple times, so I know what I'm talking about."

"Who ever thought of combining candy canes and cookie dough?" Sam grumbled, picking up his spoon.

"Christmasy, isn't it?" Gabriel asked blithely. "I'll admit it's the wrong time of year––" it was only late September–– "––but who wants to eat ice cream in the winter, anyway? Winter's better for cakes and cookies and pies and pastries and––" He cut himself off, having unscrewed the lid of the kefir bottle, to take a swig. A big one. Let it never be said that Gabriel Novak didn't jump into new experiences with gusto. Even if they involved phrases such as 'Live and Active Cultures'.

At the same time, Sam bravely put a large spoonful of ice cream into his mouth, and they sat there staring intensely at each other as they rolled the respective tastes around in their mouths. Gabriel's kefir was evidently strawberry-flavored. He'd been too horrified by the cultures to notice this. And, well... it was kind of yummy. He wasn't sure how he'd been expecting 'live and active cultures' to taste, but it just tasted like rich creamy yogurt with a weirdly enticing sour tang to it. Meanwhile, Sam's eyebrows adjusted themselves subtly in what Gabriel hoped was a positive indication.

After several seconds, they both swallowed, almost simultaneously, and continued to hold each other's gaze, each one waiting for the other to offer his opinion first. As the moment stretched to a rather obvious silence, Gabriel began to smirk, and Sam's lips tensed as he tried not to follow suit. "Okay, fine!" Gabriel announced after another moment. "It tastes... live and active."

Sam shook his head and sat back with a grin, sticking his spoon upright in his ice cream. "That's a cop-out. Tell me what you really think of it––be honest!––and I'll tell you what I think of the ice cream."

"Nope, you first."

"It tastes Christmasy."

"That doesn't count. I already said that."

"It tastes... not unacceptable."

"Oh, come ON." Gabriel was unable to restrain himself from reaching over, grabbing the spoon, and stealing a big bite of the ice cream for himself.

Sam tried to look shocked, but his amusement was too obvious. "All right! You win. It's good. I actually like the flavor. But they over-sweetened it. I don't think I can eat the whole thing." He pushed the dish over to Gabriel, who took it greedily.

"Okey-doke. I can't argue with that," he conceded. "To each his own, and all that. And you know what? Your creepy live cultures aren't all that bad either. Not sweet enough for my tastes, but I like that it's strawberry. Strawberry is good. And now I can expect to live to be a hundred, right?"

Sam shook his head, swiping the kefir in his turn and taking a gulp of it. "Nah, you gotta drink it every day if you want the health benefits."

Gabriel shuddered. "Not worth it. You can be old and creaky someday if it's so important to you. Me, I prefer to live fast and die young. Only the good do, you know."

He waggled his eyebrows at Sam, who shook his head with a one-sided smirk. "Sure, whatever."

Pretending horror and disgust as he watched Sam drain the rest of the kefir like it was water, Gabriel remembered telling Castiel that morning that the two of them were 'practically besties now'. Okay, maybe that had been a bit of an exaggeration. But as he regarded the absurdly tall man tucked into the seat across from him, Gabriel found himself thinking: Well, why not? I can do pretty much anything else––why not try making a real friend? It would be an interesting experiment. He'd never bothered initiating a relationship in the past with the intention of making it last more than a couple of days, or however long he needed the person for. Use 'em and lose 'em, that had been his approach, and it had served him well until now. But, well... there were other ways of relating, he supposed. Not that he needed anyone in his life, obviously. Needing people was for saps. Gabriel Novak was completely self-sufficient, thank you very much, and if he was actually considering starting 'Operation Make Friends With Sam', it was clearly just for his own amusement. And to prove that he could do it. Yeah, that sounded about right. It could wait until tomorrow, though. And no, that did NOT mean he was nervous. He didn't get nervous. He just needed time to plan his attack strategy.

With this decision made, Gabriel reached in his pocket, flamboyantly withdrew his watch (ever since he'd come into possession of a real pocket watch with watch fob chain and everything, he took every opportunity to show it off), and said "My my, if it isn't already a quarter to eleven!"

"Shit!" Sam hissed, jumping in his chair and banging his knee on the bottom of the table, which caused him to make an adorable squinched-up face of pain. "I'm going to be late!" He dug a wad of bills out of his pants pocket and dropped them on the table. "Bye, Gabriel!" And before he knew it, Gabriel was alone at the table.

He stared blankly at the dish of melting ice cream in front of him. Adorable. He'd definitely just caught himself thinking Sam was adorable. Where in the hell had that come from?