spncentral | TFLN

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.

"Archangels tend to like being the one in charge. What do you think?" he asks in an innocent tone that is fooling no one. "Although I have been known to let others do the driving from time to time."

See: Kali. Definitely one to take charge. Which is actually hot, when she's not doing it to kill people Gabriel would prefer stayed alive. Like himself.

That earns him another snort and Dean shakes his head.

"All about control with you guys," he mutters. "You should let other people take the lead more often. Who knows, you might actually like it."

"Are you gonna tell Kali that you'll do the driving twenty-four seven?" he asks with an arch look. Between her and certain older brothers, it's been others in charge plenty, thank you.

"You kidding?" Dean sputters, nearly choking on his coffee. "Like hell I'd tell that woman anything. She can do whatever she wants, however she wants, I wouldn't complain."

"I didn't either," he says between snickers. "She really made an impression on you, huh?"

"Besides the hotness factor, watchin' a chick who could set her arms on fire--yeah, that's an impression," Dean chuckles, shaking his head. Yes, he remembers his spectacular failed attempt to hit on her when they first got there.

Gabriel is entirely unsurprised that she shut Dean down fast. She's like that with other demi-gods, much less humans a little too big for their britches.

"Anyone can set their arms on fire. The trick is to get out of it unscathed," he points out with a grin.

Well, come on. He wouldn't be Dean Winchester if he didn't at least give it a shot. She was a fantastic looking woman, sitting alone, he was willing to risk the rejection for even the chance of it.

"Yeah, and we see those videos all the time on Youtube," he snorts, "Or like the time Sammy had a case of bad luck and set his arm on fire. That was pretty awesome."

Except for Sam getting shot later by Bela, but she was a stinging sensation he didn't like thinking about too much. It's much better to think about how hilariously horrible it had gone for Sam after he lost the rabbit foot.

True, but talk about doomed to failure.

Now it's Gabriel's turn to snort into his drink. "How did he manage that one?"

Bela's father was exactly one of the types that Gabriel tends to kill and if he had still been living in England at the time, he would have. But by then, he had moved to North America since there was a lot more territory for him to get lost in and avoid hunters.

"Said he was tryin' to put out the curtains," Dean says with a shrug. He has no clue just how that series of events had gone down. "But that's what happens when you deal with cursed rabbit's feet."

Yes, it was too bad Gabriel hadn't been around to hand her father his own ass on a silver platter. Then again, a lot of what they had gone through wouldn't have happened if that was the case--and that could be both good and bad.

"Don't worry, I still torture him with some of the crap he went through. Even Cinderella didn't care so much about her lost shoe. How the hell do you even lose a shoe while you're just standin' there, anyway?"

That just makes Gabriel laugh, shaking his head. "That's what he gets for touching the thing, I guess. Who's bright idea was it to mess around with that thing, anyway?"

Dean's grin fades a little and he becomes more interested in his coffee.

"Lady by name of Bela Talbot was tryin' to get her hands on it," he says. "She liked to steal supernatural items and sell 'em to the highest bidder. We didn't know what it was when we grabbed it. She hired two thugs to break into Dad's storage locker and steal the damn thing, but things went south, we tracked them down and wham. Sam gets the curse but good. Almost got killed by a couple of rogue hunters who thought he was an abomination, yada yada yada."

In other words, just a usual day for the Winchester brothers.

"Just another exciting couple of days in the life of the Winchesters," Gabriel notes sardonically. "I assume you've moved whatever crap he's had stored to make sure it can't happen again?"

"When we got the bunker," Dean says. "We had put his stuff in another storage place, but c'mon. That's got nothin' on what the dudes at MoL headquarters have goin' on when it comes to wards. And hey, no one else's been cursed since then."

Give them some credit, Gabriel.

"Someplace that you kind of need to know exactly where you're going to even find it, is a good spot to keep that sort of thing, yep." There's a reason for saying that he assumed they did the smart thing.

TFLN

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