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Two weeks after the mystery spot episode…
You were sitting in the diner, waiting for the Winchesters to come so you could all talk and share information on whatever’s in town.
There’s only so much information John’s journal contains, and this happens to be one of the times when they find nothing helpful in the damn thing.
But… things don’t quite turn out to be the way you planned.
They don’t know.
-
Sam and Dean exit baby and walk towards the diner with the former searching for you through the window.
He furrows his brows at the vacant booth (you had specifically instructed them to go to), but he wasn’t worrying (just yet) because maybe you went to the bathroom or something.
The two sit down, eyes wandering around, checking over everyone (Dean) and everything (Sam).
After about fifteen minutes, the boys start to get a little antsy and worry for your safety.
They just recently got back to talking to you and getting into your good graces and the same goes for you.
If anything were to happen when they’re supposed to be with you- they shake their heads at the thought of something bad happening to you.
The older of the two, pulls out his phone, calling you only to get your voicemail.
He grits his teeth, looking out the window, watching as cars pass by.
“Maybe she’s at the library?” Sam weakly says, interrupting his brother’s dark and chaotic thoughts about your safety.
“And, if she’s not? What are we going to do if she’s lying in a ditch somewhere with no phone, no way to call us?!”
The taller man gulps, “let’s go back to the motel and see what else we could find.”
“Do you think that’ll help us find her?”
“I don’t know what else to do but I know we have a job here and I think she would want-”
“Us to work on it when she might be dead?”
“Dean-”
“Order the food. I’ll be in the car.”
-
Dean slams the diner door open. He sighs, wondering what could have happened to you and praying hoping that you’re alright. He looks away from the window, staring down at the passenger seat to find a strange book that wasn’t there before.
Sam opens the door, “I got the- what’s this?” He lifts up the book so he can get inside.
His brother shrugs, “it was there when I got in.”
Sam settles himself in the seat. He opens the book, finding a folded piece of paper addressed to the two. “Uh- there’s a note in here.”
“Okay.”
“It’s for us.”
“Open it, what are you waiting for?”
Sam unfolds it, scanning through the paper. “It says that she’s safe and we shouldn’t worry.”
“Does it say who’s it from?”
“Not exactly.”
“What does that mean?”
“There’s something off with this-”
“Give me it,” Dean snatches the paper out of his hands. He pulls over and reads it. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“What?”
“Read it again.”
“Is this-”
Heat of the moment by Asia starts playing.
Dean groans, “you’ve got to be fu-”
-
You uncover your eyes to find yourself in a romantic room with- “What the hell are you doing?”
He smirks, “what’s it look like Babycakes?”
“Like you might be trying to roofie me.”
He stops pouring the champagne and looks at you with furrowed brows. “Why would I- do you think I would do that?”
You shrug, “I don’t now but kidnapping me and bringing me here certainly doesn’t help your case that’s for sure.”
He shrugs, "Would you like something to drink?" Gabriel asks, offering you the glass. He continues doing his thing, pretending as if you didn’t say something truthful about this whole situation.
You stare at him, your brows knit together in confusion and your mouth is agape. "Do I want something to- what- no! I want to go back to Sam and Dean.” You scoff, “do I want a drink? No, I don't want a bleeping..." your brows furrow closer together when the noise blocks what you’re trying to say. "bleeping... how the bleep are you doing that?"
He throws his head back, swallowing the glass of champagne in his hand, downing it in one gulp before setting the glass on the table. "Would you believe me if I said magic?" He wiggles his eyebrows in a seductive manner (or so he thinks).
You don’t say anything for a minute and continue to stare at him, hoping that he’ll get the message and understand that you think he’s crazy. "… no."
He shrugs, "either way, whether you believe me or not, it's magic."
You push your sleeves up, stomping closer towards him so you can stand in front of him. "I'm gonna magic your ass." You inwardly wince and cringe. ‘Was that really all I could come up with?’
The corner of his lips tug upwards into a playful smirk. "Oooo kinky, Babycakes. We’ll get to that later," he throws in a wink.
You stand still, brows furrowing at the sight of this cocky “trickster”. You furrow your brows in annoyance as the corner of your lip curls up in disgust. "Don't call me that."
He tilts his head, smiling like a kid in a candy shop, "why not?"
You walk towards the unoccupied chair in front of the table covered in various treats and cross your arms. "You mean besides the fact that I don't like it." Your eyes wander away from him, checking out the cake closest to you before shaking your head. ‘What if it’s been poisoned? Or roofied? …But it looks- no- no.’
Gabriel smirks, shaking his head. This is one of the perks he loves about being an archangel and the fact that he’s able to use his abilities to his advantage. "Too bad.” He nudges the cake in your direction.
You look up and he’s gone.
His hands- his warm hands are on your shoulders, “I do...” He leans forward, his breath is on your ear, “Babycakes."
You straighten your posture, ‘his breath- no, no,’ you shake your head. "That's it,” you say with a clenched jaw. You push yourself out of the chair and stand in front of him.
The two of you have a short staring contest.
You broke your gaze when you smack his arm.
"Ow!” He rubs his arm, “wait- how did you-”
You reach for him and smack his arm.
“Again, ow. What was that for?"
You huff, crossing your arms, "you're an ass."
He stops rubbing his arm as if nothing ever happened and smiles. He glances over his shoulder, turning his hips so he could see- "I do have a nice butt, thanks for noticing. I’ve worked had done on it." He looks up at you again, “kidding. This,” he waves his hand around his butt, “is all natural.”
You close your eyes, pinching the bridge of your nose. You sigh, "that's not what I- you know what. I'm not gonna get into this. I want to go home."
"You have a nice butt too," Gabriel says to distract you.
Your head snaps up, "what?"
He disappears from your view. "Butt. Yours is nice. More than nice... it's- it's... I'm speechless.”
You turn around when he makes another comment about your ass. "Okay, thanks? We’re done with the comments now. Send me back."
"That won’t be a problem."
You purse your lips, prepared to cause a whole lot of pain onto this small annoying, sweets crazed man. "That's it!"
A ringing bell interrupts the two of you.
A smile stretches across his lips, he points up, "that's for you. Until next time, Babycakes."
-
Before you could say anything else, you find yourself in the back the infamous Winchester car.
You frown when you hear the song playing. “Can you guys put a different cassette in? This song brings back bad memories.”
Sam and Dean scream, the latter had to swerve back into the correct lane before he collides with another car. “Where the hell did you come from?”
“How the hell should I know? I’m just happy I’m away from that trickster janitor- whatever or whoever he is.”
Dean pulls over, turning around with his arm across the back of the seat, “did he do something to you?”
Sam turns, checking over you to make sure you have no marks or injuries.
“Yeah, he tried to offer me champagne.”
The older Winchester opens his mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. “I got nothing.”
“You said he offered you champagne?” asks Sam, wanting to better understand the situation.
You nod, “yeah and cake.”
“And- and cake?”
You nod, “mmhmm.”
“Did you eat or drink anything he offered you?”
“No, I didn’t want to be drugged.”
The two chuckle.
“Good,” Dean adds.
“I’m not dumb, Dean. I wouldn’t take anything from a stranger even if they were the nicest person ever. You never know what’s going on or what they might be. I’ve seen and read one too many of Sam’s true crime stories to know these things.”
“You and Sammy share the same fetish,” Dean turns the key in the ignition.
You two scoff, “it’s not a fetish.”
“If anything, you have a fetish,” Sam argues.
“Oh, yeah and what’s that?”
“Old movies.”
“It’s not a fetish.”
“Neither is our interest in serial killers.”
The older Winchester scoffs, “please.”
“Don’t start this again. I can only handle this argument as many times as the next guy,” you whine, leaning back into the seat, resting your head against it.
-
You tune the two out (like you normally do when they have this argument. It comes up more often than you’d like it to).
You look down when an odd and unusual “whoosh” comes from beside you; you find a small box, like a jewelry box which confuses you- wait, no, no it doesn’t. ‘Janitor.’
You lift the box off the seat, opening it carefully. You find a necklace with a moon pendant. Your lips stretch into a small smile as you study the beautiful necklace. ‘How did you know?’
You clip the jewelry piece around your neck before looking back into the box. You pull the folded note out and unfold it.
I told you, Babycakes. It’s magic.
- The Janitor, or my more preferred calling, Gabriel
You shake your head, not at all surprised with this.
“You alright?” asks Sam, looking back at you.
You give him a gentle smile, “I’m good- better now.”
Dean glances up in the rear-view mirror, checking over you, feeling better with you being here and not far away, out of his sight.
He returns his focus back onto the road when Sam starts to talk about what he’s read in the book that appeared out of nowhere during your disappearance.
He hopes this won’t happen again, God knows how much more his heart can take when it comes to him worrying about you and his brother.