#samgabe

“Hey, Sam!  You delivering yet or can I start using you as a coat rack?”

Sam stacked the boxes of pies in the back of the van, securing them as best as he could.  He glared around the side of the door.  "I’m five feet from you, asshole.  Stop shouting.“

Dean grinned.  "Oh, good.  You can hear.”  He trotted out the side door of the bakery, carrying a large cake box.  "Last one.  Any get messed up, I’m kicking your ass from here to India.“

Bastard, Sam though.  He smiled bitterly.  "You do this every time, Dean.  I’ve delivered for you for what?  Five years?  Have a messed up one yet?”

Dean scruffed Sam’s hair, cackling when he swatted his older brother away.  "And don’t eat the product, Gargantua.“

Scowling, Sam straightened his shirt.  "I hate you and everything you stand for,” he said quietly.

Still grinning, Dean ran a hand through his hair, leaving streaks of flour and frosting along his forehead.  "This one’s important.  It’s the first time a chain store’s picked up my stuff.“

"Puts you right alongside Castiel now, doesn’t it?” Sam prodded with a smirk.

At the name of the cross-town baker, Dean first paled and then blushed.  "Like I give a shit what the guy sells.  Or where he sells it.“  His jaw tightened.  "Whatever.  Just…shut up.”

Sam grinned, shutting the van doors and moving to the driver’s side.  "You want me to pick up more eclairs while I’m there?“

Shifting like a guilty toddler, Dean muttered, "Five this time,” before darting back into the bakery.

Sam snickered, pulling himself into the driver’s seat.  He sighed, dropping the visor to find an old picture of he and Jo and Dean, with Dean doing his usual mugging in the background.  "One of these days, Dean,“ he muttered, starting the van, "you need to quit hiding.”  He snorted, pulling out onto the street.  "Like you’re really hiding anything, you idiot.“  He whistled to himself as he drove off, affectionate amusement keeping him company on the drive to the grocery store. 

Sam parked the van in one of the few open street spots and got out, still whistling.  He waved to Gabriel where he sat on a nearby bench, a familiar pink box at his hip.

He unlocked the back door and pulled out two pies: one apple and the other marionberry.  Without a word, Gabriel held out a fistful of dollars.

“Do you think they’ll ever figure it out?” Sam asked, setting the pies down before fishing out a few bills from his own pocket.  He made the exchange and picked up the box of eclairs.

Gabriel snorted.  "Seriously?  You think my cousin even understands what attraction means?“  He snickered.  "The idiot.  He moons over these damn pies when he thinks no one’s looking.  I mean, yesterday, he finished off that peach pie your brother tried out?  I thought the poor idiot would burst into tears.”

Glancing at his watch, Sam realized he still had some time before he had to make his delivery to the market.  He sat down beside Gabriel, setting the eclair box across his legs.  "Same.  Dean acts like Castiel’s nothing to him but I swear he can’t go a day without these.“  He drummed his fingers on the box, pursing his lips.  "I say we lock them in a closet until they figure it out.”

Chuckling, Gabriel shook his head.  "Good God; I’ve never met a more blind pair.“  He ran a hand through his shaggy hair and commented, "Think we should step in finally?  Show them the error of their ways?”

“Jo thinks so.”  

Gabriel grinned, making Sam’s heart stutter.  "I like Jo.  I've always liked that little minx.“

Sam smiled and looked toward the van.  “But I hate meddling with Dean’s life.  He gets really … pissy.”

“Look up that word in the dictionary you’ll find his picture,” Gabriel muttered.  He patted Sam on the shoulder.  “Look at it this way; if we don’t do something soon, these two idiots are going to pine over each other through baked goods until they’re both diabetic.”  Gabriel wagged a finger.  "We’re doing them a favor by pushing the issue.  You’ll see.“

It would be nice, actually.  Dean had been running at full bore since he was about sixteen.  Working as many jobs as he could manage while watching the house and Sam and John.  Putting himself through culinary school.  Opening the bakery.  Handling the marketing.  Hell, he doubted his brother even slept at this point.  Was it so wrong to try and get him to see a good thing when he barely had a moment to breathe?

It wasn’t like Dean hated Castiel. Whenever they did interact, he was as friendly as anyone.  Castiel’s specialty was usually with pastries and foreign desserts.  Best baklava Sam had ever had.  And Dean had stuck to more traditional fare like cakes and pies.  Both did very well in their small town.  Rarely competed except at the county fair.  But lately, Sam had noticed the lingering gazes Dean sent Castiel’s way whenever possible.  And he hadn’t been blind to the shy looks Castiel gave his brother when Dean wasn’t looking.

Sam sighed and nodded.  "All right.  If you promise Dean won’t try to neuter me, I say we do it.”

“Thank God.”  Gabriel stood up, hefting the pies.  "If I have to see him moon over one more pie, I will strip him naked and ship him to Dean.“  With a wink, Gabriel saluted Sam and sauntered off.

Shaking his head, Sam rose and returned to his van, setting the eclairs down gently on the seat beside him.  He waved again at Gabriel as he slipped into his car.  That was the other thing.  If he got Castiel and Dean to admit their own attraction, it meant that Sam might be able to do the same with regards to Gabriel.  Maybe.  Jo had been pushing him to admit his crush for the past few months, careful not to mention it around Dean since Dean and Gabriel – friends or not – tended to snipe at each other seconds after exchanging hellos.

Kind of hypocritical that he was goading Dean and he couldn’t do it either.  He pulled a face as he started the van.  To be fair, he wanted Dean and Castiel together in order to soften the blow of his own attempts.  

Sam groaned as he picked himself up from the floor, his wrist stinging as he put pressure on it - probably a strain, hopefully not a break. He blinked, realized that he was no longer in a warehouse, and the witch that had been less than three feet from him was gone as well. There was speckled linoleum beneath his fingers and as Sam took a look around, he noticed he was in a hallway that looked oddly familiar. He remembered this - the tan brick walls, the old wooden display cases, the stairway at the end of the corridor, and as he turned, he heard the telltale sound of a spring-lock door opening behind him.

And then? A fond click of a tongue and an all-too-familiar voice called out to him, “Did you get lost there, detective?” Sam’s heart was in his throat in an instant.

"Gabe?" Sam whispered, turning and moving toward him faster than he probably should have, with his head still spinning from being knocked around by that witch. But it’s Gabriel , here, now, right in front of him, and Sam couldn’t help but reach out for him as he stumbled closer. Gabriel took a step back, his eyes wide and his trademark grin quickly transformed into a frightened scowl. He was wearing a navy jumpsuit, his hair shorter than the last time Sam had seen him, but that didn’t matter now.

"What?" Gabriel breathed, taking another step back, but Sam had him, his fingers closing around his wrist. Sam pulled him close, his face buried in Gabriel's hair the instant they made contact. And it only occurred to him moments later, how strange the situation was.  How he'd been in a warehouse minutes before, and yet now he stood in a university corridor, his dead lover cradled in his arms. And he remembered, then, why this place looked so familiar. He looked down, his heart still pounding in his throat, expecting to see a demon, a ghost, or some eldritch monstrosity in place of where Gabriel had just been. Instead, Gabriel threw him, quite literally, into a wall, and all Sam heard before he blacked out was the sound of snapping fingers.

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