Recipient:
eliviralikespieAuthor:
absenthe_wraeArtist:
mamapranayamaTitle: April Fooling
Summary: A whispered comment in the heat of the moment turns into a nasty surprise when Sam wakes up as a girl. Gabriel has a strange sense of humour.
Characters/Pairings: Sam/Gabriel, Dean/Castiel
Rating: Teen
Warnings/Spoilers (if applicable): Glitter, genderswap, could use a beta but I've had a crazy week and ran out of time.
Wordcount: 2,932
~* ~* ~*
April Fooling
Dating a trickster/demi-god/arch-angel certainly had its perks, like the ability to zap clothes off in a heartbeat and the near instant recovery time between rounds in the sack, for example, but then there were things that were not exactly perks... more like quirks. Gabriel, being Gabriel, had a tendency to leave trails of candy wrappers in his wake and sticky crumbs on the bedsheets, not to mention his questionable sense of humour. It was a good thing Sam had grown up fighting the Great Winchester Prank Wars, otherwise he would have never been prepared for the level of pranks a trickster could pull. In fact, it was thanks to this that Sam barely freaked out all when she woke up on April 1st a whole lot more female than he'd been when he went to bed the night before.
It was the hands Sam noticed first, her left arm sprawled across Gabriel's pillow which was devoid of an archangel, but revealed his presence the night before with an empty Snickers wrapper. They were small and delicate, the knuckles hairless and soft when she ran one finger over the top and up a skinny wrist. Sam lifted the covers and looked down, panicking for just a second before figuring out what had happened. Of course, she thought, last night... last night, in a flurry of naked limbs and the last squeeze of lube left in the bottle Sam had cursed and muttered: “I wonder what this would be like for a girl.” Apparently Gabriel had taken him seriously.
Sam stared down at her chest, between her breasts and down the flat stomach and curving hips, to the dusky curls and moist space between her thighs. She breathed deeply, trying to calm herself, trying not to scream. Just then Gabriel walked into the room and Sam, glancing up at him, resolved that she would not show her distress; that would satisfy the bloody trickster too damn much.
Casually, she commented, “I thought they'd be bigger.”
“Your tits?” Gabriel took a bite of the popsicle he was working on, “Naw, that would be your sister... Deanna's are way bigger.”
“Deanna?”
A high scream echoed down the hallway. Gabriel grinned, “Happy April Fool's day, sweetheart.”
“Any other tricks I should be aware of?”
“Just don't turn on the ceiling fan in the kitchen. That's for Cas.”
~* ~* ~*
It all came to head not long after in the bunker's vintage-industrial chic kitchen.
“You!” the woman, a spitting image of Mary Winchester, though slightly older than she'd gotten, her dirty blond hair a mess around her face, shrieked at Gabriel, jabbing a finger into his chest, “This is your doing, isn't it?”
“Yes Deanna, but don't worry, I'll turn you back tomorrow.”
“Why?” Castiel emerged from the doorway where he was lurking, his hands fluttering hesitantly and then resting on his boy-girl-friend's shoulders as if to hold her back.
“It's April Fool's day, I thought we'd have some fun,” Gabriel paused to stir a fourth spoonful of sugar into his coffee, “Plus, I saw a recording of that musical thing from that girl's school. Gave me some ideas.”
Sam made a growling sound in the back of her throat, “I told you not to watch that...”
“You've wondered though, I know you have.”
“Wondered what?” asked Dean.
“About being a woman. It's perfectly normal for humans to be curious about the experience of the opposite gender or to want to do things normally reserved for the other gender which are not acceptable for them to do. Nowadays, women can do masculine things with little judgement, but for men there are still social barriers for men who wish to... exercise their femininity.”
Sam nodded thoughtfully, “I have been curious... ah... from an academic perspective.”
Castiel looked pensive, “The sex could be fun, Dean.”
Dean suddenly shot coffee out of her nose and began coughing and glaring at Castiel, “Dude (hack)!”
“What?”
“Not in front of our brothers.”
Sam shrugged, “It's not as if we don't hear what you two get up to.”
Gabriel nodded in agreement, “Which is why I am taking my beautiful girlfriend out for the day.”
“Out?”
“Mall, lunch, movies... whatever you like. This is your day to do all the girly things you've ever wanted to do without judgement.”
“All the girly things? You'll go see Moonlight Swan with me?”
Dean gagged at the mention of the chick-flick which she knew Sam had been dying to see.
“Sure. Whatever you want. I won't judge you if you cry.”
Sam, starting to find herself, squealed in delight and hugged Gabriel, only slightly taller than the rather short trickster in her new form. She had to pause to pull up her sleeping pants as they almost fell, the bottoms pooled around her feet on the floor.
“We'll have to get you some new clothes first though, and a haircut... perhaps a facial?”
“I'm going to stay here,” said Dean, “With Cas.”
“I'm sure you can get a facial from Cas here too,” Gabriel said with a smirk, pressing the button on their new toaster to re-toast his bagel. He cranked it up to full heat.
Dean grimaced, “Gross!”
“What's a facial?” asked Cas.
“I'll let you take the floor for this one,” Sam patted Dean's back on her way out the door to try to find some shoes that would fit. Eventually she settled on a pair of Gabriel's flip-flop sandals and folded herself into the shotgun side of Cas' pimp-mobile. Gabriel followed, grinning as he swung his brother's keys on one finger.
“You look like a cat that's swallowed a canary. What's up?”
“I'm just glad to be taking my number one lady out for the day.”
Sam kissed him on the cheek.
~* ~* ~*
The kitchen was filling with smoke from the toaster. Dean did her best to fan it away and tried to crack the old window (it wasn't budging). Cas had the sudden clever idea to turn on the ceiling fan. He went for the knob and flicked it. Instantly the room was showered in more glitter than Cas had ever seen in his life (and more than Dean had ever seen aside from that Mardi Gras parade five years ago). It swirled and twinkled in a gay typhoon, mixed by the whirling blades of the ceiling fan on which it had been resting.
Dean's hands formed into tiny white fists, “GABE!”
~* ~* ~*
“Dresses, Sam...” Gabriel said, the hangers clinking as he slid them along the rack, looking at each, “I thought you wanted to step outside of your comfort zone.”
“I do, but...”
“But what about this?” Gabriel held up a bright pink taffeta monstrosity.
“We're at the mall Gabe, not prom.”
“This one?” he held a slinky banded red number.
“Not at a club either."
“Did you want to go to a club tonight?”
Sam shook her head, “I want to spend the day with you.”
“Whatever you want then, but I vote for something pretty.”
Soon Sam's fingers trailed across something nice on the spring dress rack. It was a sleeveless mid-short floral print sundress, primarily blue, with a wide belt and bunched skirt. She held up a medium for Gabriel to survey.
He grinned, “Love it. To the fitting room.”
The medium was a snug fit Sam thought at first, but she did manage to get into it and when she looked into the mirror she did a double take; she hardly recognized herself, the leggy woman with unruly, shoulder-length curls and big doe eyes staring back at her was not what she usually identified as Sam. This woman was rather lovely, in an awkward flower-child kind of way. She tucked the hair behind her shoulders and kicked aside the mens clothes to trot out barefoot, as rare and startling as a wild deer in a city park.
“Perfect,” Gabriel exhaled, leaning over to kiss his girlfriend. “Sit down,” he instructed gently, gesturing to a bench and pulling out a pair of shoes that he'd been examining. Sam sat down. They were pastel blue ballet flats, without any heel at all so Sam wouldn't trip (or tower over him any more), and he slid them on one at a time with ease, explaining, “Ladies size 9.”
The clerk arrived just then, a blonde girl younger than them both, fashionably done-up, “Oh wow, you look great. Would you like another size for the shoes?”
Sam stretched out her toes and wiggled them, and then grinned, shaking her head, “They're perfect”
“We'll take them, and the dress... do you have some scissors? And a bag for her old clothes?”
“Certainly,” the clerk returned to snip the tags off of Sam's dress and shoes so she could scan them. She gave them a pink paper shopping bag with the store's logo for her to put her other clothes into. Sam eased the bag over her arm and went for the credit card in her wallet, tucked into the bag now.
Gabriel rapidly intercepted her with his own credit card and a cocky grin, “Allow me.”
“It's 2015,” Sam protested.
“Yeah, that means that I can treat my veteran girlfriend to a special day now that she's back, right?”
“You're military?” The clerk asked, admiringly, “My brother's in the air force. Where were you posted?”
“I... I can't say too much about it, classified, sorry,” Sam stammered. Meanwhile Gabriel was paying by credit card.
“Of course, that's fine,” she nodded reassuringly, “Enjoy being home.”
“I will, thank you.”
~* ~* ~*
They stop at a cafe. Sam has a fat-free, half-sweet vanilla latte and Gabe the sugariest mocha ever, topped with whipped cream and syrup and sprinkles, and a massive white chocolate and macadamia cookie. Sam broke off a corner of the cookie for herself to nibble.
“Veteran?”
“It's a good cover story for why you're totally ungroomed and can't girl.”
“I'm not ungroomed.”
“Lift up your arms.”
Sam did so. Huh, apparently women had hair there too.
“Your eyebrows could use some shaping too, and we'll get your nails done while we're at it.
Sam took a long sip of latte to wash down the cookie and then asked, “What else do you have planned for today?”
“Spa for the rest of the morning, followed by lingerie, lunch, and an early show?”
“Lingerie?”
Gabriel grinned, “You need underwear.”
~* ~* ~*
By the end of having her eyebrow's threaded Sam's hands were fisted and her face hurt so damn bad that, when Trinh told her to lift up her arms she shoved her hands in her armpits and shook her head. “They're fine.”
“Your boyfriend said you wanted it done,” the sweet little Vietnamese beautician said, “He already paid.”
“Nu-uh.”
“Don't you want to be clean for him?”
Sam felt rather ruffled at that word. Clean? As if having hair was somehow unclean rather than perfectly natural?
“No thank you.”
“Okay,” Trinh shrugged, “Let's do the facial then, that will feel nice.”
A few minutes later Sam was lying on a cushioned table, her feet propped up, hands wrapped in lotion and towels, eyes protected with damp teabags, while Trinh massaged a third round of some sort of cool, wonderful smelling cream onto her face. It did feel nice, as did the scalp, hand, and foot massages she worked in between rounds. Sam felt like a queen. She could have fallen asleep but she wanted to stay awake for all the novel, pleasurable sensations that come from having another person care for your body better than you usually do. Trinh finished wiping the last of the lotion away and patted Sam's shoulder, advising her to, “Get up slowly.”
Seated still on the table Trinh approached with a pallet of make-up, “I'm just going to put on a little bit, okay?”
“Okay.”
A smear, a soft brush, and the fluttering of cool, tiny fingers across her face, and soon Sam was opening her eyes to stare in
the mirror at a person she barely recognized. Her breath caught in her throat and she stared.
“You like?” Trinh asked.
“Oh, yes...” Sam reached up to touch her cheek, “I like it very much.”
“You look very pretty.”
“Thank you,” Sam grinned and hopped out of the chair to where Gabriel, having left and come back, was waiting in the
salon's foyer.
“Have you seen my girlfriend?” Gabriel asked, “She looks like you only less hot.”
Sam elbowed Gabriel playfully. She held out a splayed hand to show her nails, painted a light blue to match the rest of her
outfit, “Look.”
“Love it,” he clasped her hand and guided her out of the salon towards a restaurant. After lunch, and a slice of chocolate
cake shared, Gabriel brought Sam to a lingerie shop but at the entrance Sam resisted, “Those are womens underwear.”
“And you're a woman.”
“Oh. Right.”
Some debate later and Sam found herself ensnared in something which was like a bra but involved more straps than Sam
thought bras were supposed to have. She felt like a dolphin in a tuna net. “Gabe?” she called tentatively, “Gabe, I need you.”
She unlatched the door to the change room and inched it carefully open. Gabriel grinned and slid into the tiny mirrored room
to help untangle Sam. “Hold up your left arm, good, now bend your elbow... yes, let me get this latch... voila!”
“Freedom!” Sam sighed, making no motion to cover her chest because it was not an action she had ever bothered with.
Gabriel leered.
“Out! You're going to get us in trouble.”
“Fine, fine...” Gabriel acquiesced; however, while Sam continued to wrestle with underthings best left unmentioned, he
picked out a few items and purchased them subtly for later.
~ * ~* ~*
Later Gabriel found himself thinking of the lingerie he had bought while bored in a theatre seat during a chick-flick about a
dancer in soviet Russia which Sam was absolutely enthralled by. Before the trick Sam had loved these kinds of movies; after
it, she actually looked like she belonged in the theatre, and had no problem allowing the light tears to trickle conspicuously
down her cheeks rather than wiping them away before anyone saw.
At last the 125 minutes of torture were over and they shuffled out and went home to the bunker, picking up dinner for
everyone on the way. Shortly after they arrived Dean's food honing instict kicked in and she joined them in the kitchen
wearing nothing but one of Castiel's dress shirts, undone at the top. She began immediately to rifle through the take-out
bags, unpacking the bacon cheeseburger she knew was hers and digging in right away. Castiel did not emerge.
“Where's Cas?” Asked Sam, “We didn't know if he was eating real food or not right now so we got an extra burger in case.”
“He's resting,” Dean cracked a beer to go with her burger and leaned against the counter, looking satisfied.
Sam raised a nicely trimmed eyebrow, “All day?”
“Mhmm, no hunts, no research... just monkey business,” another sip of beer, “Gabe, I need to say, I was pissed at first, but
actually, for a day, this wasn't too bad.”
“You're welcome. When Cas recovers you've got until tomorrow morning too, when I wake up I'll remove it.”
Dean nodded, “Better make the most of it.” She gathered up her food and left the kitchen.
Sam and Gabriel's eyes met, “We ought to follow your sister's lead.”
“Oh?”
“I have something for you,” Gabriel gave her the bag, the handles made of a satiny fushia ribbon, “You go change into and
I'll meet you in the room.”
~* ~* ~*
It could be worse, Sam decided, although she still was not entirely comfortable with womens clothing, especially underwear.
Nonetheless... the purple and white negligee, trimmed with yellow lace, was a great combination to complement her
colouration. She eyed herself, though she could not see her lower body in the short bunker mirror, a matching lace thong
making her extremely uncomfortable; damn, Sam thought, I'm hot. She moved, sashaying her hips, as she entered the
room, slowly at first, peeking behind the door, and then coming in to reveal herself to Gabriel, who lounged on the bed in his
black silk boxers.
She made her way over to him and pushed his jaw back into place from where it had dropped. “For a man, you have
excellent taste in lingerie.”
“It's not hard to find something that looks great on someone who looks as great as you.”
She slunk onto his lap, straddling him and placing her hands on his shoulders so as to gaze into his eyes, “Thank you, for
today I mean.”
“Hey, I'm glad you enjoyed it. Not all of my tricks are unecessarily mean.”
“I guess not,” Sam began to kiss him.
~* ~* ~*
It was a little after dawn when she woke up; she knew that Gabriel typically rose with the sun, and she did not see him
asleep next to her, so she called, “Gabe?”
A strange sound responded. It was almost... but it couldn't be... “Meow?”
That woke Sam up immediately.
There, where Gabe had been sleeping, was an orange tabby cat with gold eyes and a worried expression.
“Is that you, Gabe?”
“Mreow,” and, at the same time, a voice in his head, Help, I've been cursed into the body of a cat. Sorry I can't reverse your
state right now, I need opposable thumbs for that.
~* ~* ~*