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"Nice way to play host," Dean says with a sigh and making his way into the kitchen to start rifling through the cabinets, searching for any kind of coffee, mug to go with it.

While it percolates, he opens the refrigerator, seeing if there's any food beyond the beers and liquor from the night before. Like bacon. Bacon would be awesome.

Hey, not Gabriel's fault that Dean didn't look for it first. It's really not that hard to find. And yes, there is food in the fridge for Dean that Gabriel put in there last night at the same time as the beer. There should be just enough variety to make Dean happy.

"If it's basic food-type stuff, assume it's in there somewhere," he says, twisting around and resting one arm on the back of the couch to watch Dean.

There's bacon and eggs and hell, even some kind of croissanty biscuit things. Dean grabs all of them and starts cooking it, just the simple act getting his head pulled together and calming him down big time.

The coffee finishes and he pours two mugs of it automatically, as if he were making breakfast for him and Sam. Just like when he puts together two breakfast sandwiches made of the eggs, bacon, and croissandwich bread. He sticks his head around the corner to see Gabriel watching, and jerks his thumb over his shoulder.

"There's food. And coffee. If you want any." Sure, angels don't need to eat, but he knows Gabriel has a zest for food. Among other things.

Gabriel disappears from the living room and reappears in the kitchen near-instantly, grabbing the chair that doesn't seem to be the one Dean plans to use. "You gonna take the chance to wander the city doing tourist-type crap as a break from finding things to shoot or stab before I send you back home?"

Dean tries not to jump at the sudden appearance of Gabriel in the kitchen, and he snorts, settling down with his own sandwich and coffee. The stuff is just what he needs, and he takes a big bit out of it before answering.

"Can't stay away now. Got a case to work on. Can't leave Sam alone or he'll..."

Dammit, Sam. He hasn't even texted his brother to let him know that he's still alive. He pulls his phone out of his jeans pocket. Several missed calls and text messages. Dammit. He presses his contact number and there is a very disgruntled Sam on the other end.

"No, I'm fine. Just had a crazy night out, you know how it goes..." He shoots Gabriel a warning look. "Yeah, I know, no more information needed. I'll be back today. Any news on the...no, okay. Just keep researching, I guess. We'll find something."

There's some kind of sarcastic comment from his brother that makes him snort and he cuts off the message.

"What d'you know about angry sects of witches who like to impale their victims after makin' them dance through hot coals?" he asks Gabriel, taking another bite out of his sandwich. "'s very Vlad the Impaler. And gross."

Gabriel blinks at the subject change from something relatively normal to homicidal witches. Although really, he shouldn't be surprised, seeing as this is a Winchester he's dealing with.

He stirs some sugar into his coffee to cut the bitterness as he mentally sorts through what information he had that might be useful. "It being best to avoid going anywhere near them is useless information, because you plan to go right at 'em. The originals are from right around that area although they've picked up more members from other places over the centuries as they've moved around. Mostly minorities that have reason to be pissed off and willing to join them. No one likes being treated like garbage for not being whatever the guys in charge think they should be."

He takes a sip of coffee both to make sure he's put in enough sugar and give Dean time to digest what he's just heard so far. "It's also a mixed sex group, so don't expect to find just either women or men. Any of that new so far?"

Dean lets that sink in, chewing thoughtfully on his sandwich. It was kind of new. A lot of it.

"The part of it being men and women is new. We thought we were goin' after ladies with a grudge, but..." he frowns and lets out a huff. "Sounds like you're pretty familiar with 'em after all. Just desserts. Right up your alley, huh? Only they have really bloody, disgusting ends for their targets." Not all of Gabriel's victims suffered those kinds of ends. Ends involving spikes being shoved up their...yeah.

"So, we talkin' blue collar workers who got the short end of the stick, or does it reach into office spaces with middle classers gettin' shafted by dick bosses and always passed over for the promotion?"

"Think Jews on the wrong end of pogroms, Romani on the wrong end of their persecution, and women not appreciating being treated like property. You know, that sort of thing. Well, at least back then, anyway. These days, it's probably mostly stuff like that, yeah." So yes, these are some very pissed off people.

Dean frowns into his sandwich, thinking about it.

"Well. If that were the case. I'd say let 'em have at it, that they'd deserve what they get. But not asshole bosses," he says after a moment, "They can't just go around killin' like that. Not now. We have to stop them."

And that's that. That's all Dean Winchester needs to know that whatever it takes, they will stop them from killing more people. As usual.

"Well, try not to get killed going after them. And hope the ones still in Europe don't get pissed and looking for the American branch." Right, time to work his way through his own sandwich thing Dean made.

"Yes sir," Dean says with a mock salute, then watches him take a bite out of the sandwich. "Pretty damn good, ain't it?"

There are few things Dean is proud of, and cooking is at the top of that short list.

Gabriel just nods, his mouth being full of food. He'd rather skip playing 'see food'. Some of it might escape.

"So, that info give you guys enough to refine the search somewhat?" he finally says after finishing that mouthful.

"I think that's a good place to start, yeah," Dean agrees, and that's Gabriel's thank you. "Sam can probably figure out where to start diggin' once I give him the new info."

As for telling Sam just where he got that information from...it's going to take a little finessing on his part, because like hell is he going to let the whole story of last night get out.

He finishes he own sandwich and leans back in the chair, sipping his coffee leisurely. Gone is the panicky Dean trying to sneak out earlier, apparently.

"What about you? Any news on the angel wire Cas might not be getting?"

Sam will live if he knows his big brother slept with an archangel. It might be knowledge and mental images he doesn't want, but he'll survive.

"You realize that I'm not exactly keeping tabs on what's being shared with him and what's not, right?" Gabriel ask rhetorically before shaking his head. "Things are fairly calm Upstairs, last I heard. Had to smack down a couple of people for getting over-zealous on the whole 'make everybody go back home' thing along with the angels that objected strongly to going home."

Maybe he would survive, but Dean wouldn't survive the embarrassment or the never ending harassing he would get for it.

"I know, but you're more...you know...fully together than he is. Wings in one piece and all that," he says with a vague wave of his hand towards Gabriel's back. The news is good, though, better than he was hoping. Angels were the last thing he wants to worry about these days. "So long as those ones that are stayin' rogue don't keep on trying to gank Cas for the whole...kicking them outta heaven thing."

I.E.-Keep an eye on your nerdy little brother, Gabriel.

If the majority of monsters Dean's faced didn't kill him, his little brother teasing him won't.

"There wouldn't have been a problem with these two if they were left the hell alone. They just wanted to be able to try out human shit as a change of pace from the last... ever," Gabriel gripes, suddenly wanting something stronger than coffee. Right, time for a little Irish coffee then. Although being subtle about messing with it.

Dean frowns a little, looking at him curiously. Obviously, Gabriel has two in mind.

"What two are those? And are they still around planetside?"

Gabriel takes a long drink of his now whiskey-laced coffee before answering. "No one you need to worry about. They've been sent home. There's not enough of us left for that kind of fighting."

In other words, there's a dead angel or two due to said strong objections.

His frown deepens, and he stands to refill his mug.

"They didn't figure out who you are, did they?" As far as he still knew, Gabriel wants to stay away from being discovered, even if he can't keep his identity a real secret with what remains of the pagan community.

Not that Dean cares whether he's found out or not. Not at all.

"Unfortunately, it's a little hard to make my decision to make them go home after that fight stick without them knowing. I might have lost my temper and went a bit Michael on their asses." Needless to say, the angels he lost his temper at were appropriately cowed by the display.

A snap to refill his mug with more coffee and whiskey so he could drink it.

Dean raises his eyebrows at him, trying to picture Gabriel doing anything that resembled Michael at all. Righteous fury and flaming sword--that could actually be kind of...hot.

He takes a swallow of his own refreshed drink, trying to cover up any indication that he connected Gabriel to the word 'hot'.

"Well, them's the breaks, I guess," he says after a moment with the shrug. "Gotta crack a few eggs to make an omelet--especially when those eggs can be stubborn as hell."

He heard that thought process, you know. Although he'll be polite and not mention it.

"No one's actually dead--well, besides the one that already was, which was why I was pissed--but they definitely got a reminder of what tier angel I am and that it's still not a good idea to piss me off, even if I am the mellow one." Compared to his older brothers, anyway.

How thoughtful of him. Although, he can always bring it back to torture Dean with in the future.

Finding out that no angels had perished in the whole whipping out of the angel mojo version of dicks is a little bit of relief. For all his run-ins with angels in the past, the idea of more dying for no damn good reason is something he doesn't relish.

His mouth quirks up a little in a smirk imagining just what expressions were on the angels' faces were when they realized who they were dealing with.

"So, mellow one, what're you gonna do with your bet win?" he asks, returning to the chair and lounging in it. He's never been one to deny when someone wins a bet against him, especially when they win it fair and square.

Hence, none dying during that episode and Gabriel sticking to exiling them back home. For which they were appropriately grateful since they knew damn well what the other option was. Which it would have been if it had actually been Michael they were dealing with rather than Gabriel doing a good impression of him.

"What, rocking your world wasn't good enough, you want me to want something more?" he teases, mood flipping back into a better one. "I think knowing I got you into bed and that you should hopefully be willing to consider a future time is probably enough."

Dean snorts into his coffee, although he's smirking. Just a little bit.

"You always the man in charge, or d'you let someone else top once in a while?" he asks, pleased the tone is switching to one that is a little lighter.

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