Selah (4/?)
Title: Selah: To measure
Author: Mikhala_c
Rating: R, maybe
Pairing: Hints of Gabriel/
Spoilers: 5x08 if that's even a spoiler....
Warnings: Genderswap, Religious themes, angelcest, cursing, and (of course) a bit of blasphemy
Disclaimer: I own them not. But I wish I did…..so I could make them dance!
Summary: Gabriel’s punished and finds himself as an old testament girl again.
Note: Fourth installment. Previous chapters. Had to get it together after 5x19, the plot bunny needed some Paxil to perk back up. While Gabriel refers to himself in male pronouns still he is still cursed with the female form Raguel gave him.
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"This one?"
"Nope."
"This?"
"No."
"Now?"
"Not even close; that's a French horn."
Sam groans from where he has his face buried in the crook of his arm and mumbles against the surface of the desk. "Wouldn't know. I haven't been looking."
"You could just let me look for myself."
"Last time I did that I went out for coffee and by the time I got back you were Googling movie trivia. You think Cas is having any luck?"
Gabriel shrugs and nudges Sam with his elbow to get him to click the next page to bring up more pictures of more horns. "Searching for my trumpet will inherently be more satisfying than searching for God."
"Why do you do that?"
"Do what?"
"Just mock it. He's looking for God, shouldn't you be more supportive?"
"Why? Its his test of faith not mine."
"So he'll find Him?"
Gabriel rolls his eyes toward the ceiling and pushes his chair back from the table with a sigh. "Kiddo....not much of a test if we're certain of the outcome is it? He may find Him and he might not, the point of it all is the search itself."
Sam lifts his head and Gabriel can see the red lines marking his face from being pressed against his sleeve for so long. The hunter looks exhausted and it takes a few moments before those brown eyes focus. "It might be the nine hours of staring at the computer screen talking, but I'm not really following that logic."
"Don't worry about it, Sam. Go lie down. I promise to not download porn laced viruses on your laptop while you're not looking."
"I wasn't worried until you mentioned it...."
A soft snap of fingers and the hunter was tucked into bed before he could finish his sentence. That fact didn't stop another round of half-hearted protests. "Okay, one: stop changing my clothes without permission and two: it makes me kinda nauseas when you teleport me like that."
"Go to sleep, Kiddo. I've got more powers and no qualms about using them."
Something suspiciously close to 'cheater' might have been muttered in response.
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Its another six unsuccessful days later when Gabriel finds something else to distract himself from the search for his trumpet.
Well, that wasn’t entirely true. In the six days they had found two poltergeists, a vampire, two ghouls, and a chupacabra. Not that those really mattered in the scheme of things but it was beginning to seem like every time they got five minutes to sit down and actually look for some information somebody was suddenly in need of a rescue.
It was a wonder the Winchesters ever got anything done.
He’s almost tired himself by the time they pull into this newest nameless little town. Castiel had fluttered in not long after the hunter’s had checked into their room and Dean had declared it time to unwind at the bar.
Not that Gabriel was going to complain, hence the lemon drop martini he was currently stirring with his sucker, but a little bit of discipline on the rest of their parts might have been nice. Either way, he’s only paying half hearted attention to his drink and the sweet slowly dissolving in it, the pool table has his focus.
Not the table itself, but mostly the little scene going around it.
“What’s so interesting?”
Gabriel gave his martini a final swirl before tilting it up to his lips and finishing it off in one go; strangely the man standing at his elbow didn’t seem to mind being ignored in favor of the action.
Go figure.
Gabriel hummed to himself before setting the empty glass on the bar top. “Oh just things. Its like watching a mix of Animal Planet and National Geographic at the same time. Social habits of monkeys , etc.” He would almost swear he could hear the hamster wheel turning in the man’s head as he tried to follow the words to the reasoning behind them. Gabriel’s jaw tightens as the stranger leans into his space to follow his line of sight to the table.
Castiel is standing next to the table twirling the pool cue between his fingers as Sam tries for the second time to explain the point of the game, this time without Dean’s helpful advice on gambling, in hopes that the angel will finally see the relaxation in the past time. Gabriel has to admire Sam’s tenacity but he wonders if he should tell them that Castiel is just humoring them.
They seem to get the younger angel’s lack of pop culture references confused with general naiveté.
They’ve moved onto breaking. Dean’s leaning over Castiel’s shoulder to adjust his handholds and Gabriel allows himself a smirk over the too cuteness of it all. The bartender serves up an unordered martini and Gabriel is dimly aware that he should, for politeness’ sake, thank the mouth breather that is still standing too close.
Castiel has finally managed to assuage the Winchester’s fears enough to let him take his first shot. The crack the cue ball makes as it hit’s the point of the pyramid is almost too loud in the little dive.
Although, it is the successive thumps of all the other balls sinking into the pockets that makes Gabriel’s smirk into a full blown smile. Dean’s face as he looks from the little white ball to the shiny black eight spinning harmlessly in the middle of the table is picture worthy. The whole thing was a source of shock and awe.
Atleast, to the smart people.
The not so bright watch and snort something that rhymes with ‘bags’ under their breath.
Its not the word that offends him, he’s heard and said worse, it’s the tone.
It’s the tone that makes his hand clench tight around the martini glass’ stem until it shatters. Castiel’s head whips around at the tiny action as if the loud music, drunken conversations, and the roar of the highway didn’t cover the sound. Gabriel can see his lips moving and knows the younger angel is probably tattling on him.
Dean most likely doesn’t need a verbal warning that Gabriel’s a bit miffed, not if the sudden unease and concern that flood in through the bond is any indication.
He cuts his gaze over to the mouth breather. “I’m sorry, I missed that. What did you say?” There must have been something in his forced smile that screamed ‘Danger! Will Robinson!’ because the man looked hesitant to answer. He was almost ready to get his smite going when he heard it.
The distant echoing trill of fan fare.
Someone was playing his trumpet.
He was gone before the Winchesters thought to come over and save the mouth breather from his own stupidity.
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Its not hard to figure out who has his baby. The list of angel who could even touch it is short and those inclined to play it is even shorter. He really should have seen it sooner, the facts were staring him right in the face most of the time, there was only one other angel that sported an iconic trumpet.
He was going to pluck Moroni bald when he caught him.
If he caught him……the little bastard was fast. Gabriel was still trying to adjust to the lopsided feeling he got during flight thanks to Raphael’s spear. He was on his thirteenth circuit of the Earth in history’s worst game of keep away when his purse lost its mind.
It took a whole minute of staring at the possessed thing vibrating across a sand dune before he remembered that Sam had handed him a cell phone.
Like it was okay to keep an archangel on speed dial.
Picking up his now ruined Gucci he fished the offending technology out and dumped the sand from the interior for good measure. Flipping it open one handed he knelt down to pluck his lip-gloss from the pile of sand and shake it off. “I was busy…”
“I’m sorry but we have a problem here.” Sam sounded so flustered he almost felt guilty about snapping when he’d answered the phone.
“You three always have problems, kiddo.”
“Funny. This problem is bizarre even for us.”
“Well some details would be nice.”
A frustrated sound came from the other end of the line. “I don’t know how to explain it, but you know that play the roles crap you pulled on us in TV Land?”
Like he was going to forget that. “Yes.”
“Its like that only it makes even less sense. We’re near Lake Tahoe. Stateline, Nevada.”
Its nothing to reach halfway around the world and search for them, not them in specifics but that silly car and then his brother. He’s there in a snap and its not hard to figure out what’s got Sam so flustered; there is a five alarm five eating up a Casino across the street, a song and dance routine going on of to the left, and it looks like the rose parade exploded overhead because a flurry of petals is wafting down from the heavens.
What really gives him pause is the rest of merry band.
“Is that a box of kittens?” Its so very hard to keep his voice from cracking as he chokes back a laugh.
Castiel regards him for a moment before looking down at the box in his hands. “Yes. They seem benign.” The tiny little faces poke up from the edge to mew sweetly and Gabriel bites his knuckle.
“And why do you have a box of kittens?”
Seeming actually puzzled by the question, Castiel tilted his head as he thought which sent the fireman’s helmet that, for some reason, he was wearing sliding forward over one eye.
Reflecting back the box of kittens was probably not the most important thing to question.
Gabriel could have asked why Castiel looked decidedly more rumpled than normal. Or why he was wearing fireman’s hat and coat over his regular shirt and trousers. Then there was Dean who was glaring daggers at him. It might be nice to know why his clothes were ripped to an almost indecent level and it looked like he took a roll in Willy Wonka’s garden.
Gabriel chuckled and turned to look at poor flustered Sam who was still clutching his phone and wearing a towel.
Only a towel.
Gabriel took a moment to admire the…er…thread count, before following the line of muscle up to meet the younger Winchester’s gaze. “You want some pants there, Sam?”
He got an eye roll in response. “I would love some pants, but I can’t keep them on!” Dean choked on a laugh of his own and Gabriel arched a brow in response. Sam flushed but it spoke volumes about his self control that he didn’t look away. “Not like that.” He hissed out. “Every time I put clothing on something happens, explodes, or I get mauled by a …a…tornado of moths.”
Gabriel opens his mouth but shuts it quickly; he’s at a loss as to what exactly to say to that aside from he wished he’d thought of it. Though he doubts that sentiment would go over well right now. “I’ll try to help but I don’t sense a Trickster within a hundred miles. I need to see the weirdness in action to get an idea of what’s going on.” Sam gestured at the surrounding area with his phone in response.
“No can do, kiddo. This is all after affects, there’s no substance here.”
Sam made that frustrated noise again and stalked off toward the Impala, clutching tightly to the knot of his towel. Glancing over to the other two Gabriel found them both huddled together looking into the box. They were on the edge of being too cute to be real and Gabriel was certain there was some office worker’s calendar missing her Hunks of the Month.
Personally, he preferred a more rough and tumble image but, being an Archangel, he was predisposition to like heroes and knights in shining armor.
He’d barely had the thought before reality rippled, he couldn’t see the source but the effect was pretty obvious.
Castiel held the box away from his chest and looked down at himself before shrugging off the wardrobe change and returning to his observation of the kittens. Gabriel had to admit that the armor for the Garrison had gotten more impressive since he’d left. Not to mention, from the markings, Castiel had gotten a lot of military recognition over the centuries.
“Dude….did you get Jimmy tattooed while we weren’t looking?”
“No. It appears I am simply manifesting my natural state to a higher degree.”
“Oh…… You do realize your wearing a skirt right?”
“It is a kilt and a man wearing chaps should not judge another’s appearance.”
Dean looked down at himself and swore softly under his breath. “Well? Was that enough weirdness for you, Princess?”
Gabriel looked up from his study of the surprisingly historically accurate cowboy costume the older Winchester was now sporting. “Not really. Let’s get your little floor show out of the street and maybe I can figure this out.”
“Fine. I still haven’t had breakfast today and its almost sunset. I’d like to catch up.”
“Let’s go rustle you up some vittles then.”
“I hate you.”
“Aww…that‘s just a hard day on the range talking.”
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Once they got the humans food and got back to the hotel Gabriel had assumed it would be easier to sort out. Unfortunately all it did was confine the oddities to a smaller space. He really got concerned when his clothing started to change on its own, although the first shift into his battle armor hadn’t been all that disconcerting.
The Catwoman costume that followed had been a bit surprising.
Then the naughty nurse outfit…..
The ball gown….
The flesh tone Bond girl bikini…..
Some sort of cheap Hollywood “tribal outfit”…
Now he was wearing a heavy collar of gems that did nothing to cover anything else on his torso and a long split silk skirt that hung low on ample hips. The whole outfit showcased the inked in markings that decorated his flesh. Looking in the mirror he had to admit he made a pretty smoking hot Goddess, which was what he figured this outfit was suppose to be.
He was tempted to ask for a second opinion but Castiel kept making soft distressed noises every time the Archangel got close and Sam wasn’t looking t anything lower than his shoulders. That left Dean and with the way he was focusing most of his attention on Sam’s boots, Gabriel didn’t think he was going to get a good answer there either.
Pity.
“I got to say, Sammy, I’m jealous of the boots.” At the words Gabriel stopped his personal assessment and turned to look at Dean. There was something about his tone that niggled at the back of his mind. Sam snorted in response to the statement and continued his search for answers on the internet. Gabriel would have thought that the younger Winchester would have been in a better mood now that the powers that were tormenting them had decreed he could have pants again. Maybe spending the past three hours dressed as Dr. Sexy was beginning to grate.
Looking between the two hunters Gabriel couldn’t shake the feeling that he was staring the key to the mystery right in the face.
And it was laughing at him.
He was so busy trying to trace back the pattern of weirdness he almost missed it when Sam finally looked up from his laptop and snapped at his brother, “If you love them so damn much just take them!” and that would have been a pity. If he’d missed that then he would have missed the telltale ripple of reality as Dean suddenly received the shoes he’d been so enamored with.
It came crashing into place after that. All the stupid costumes, all the background weirdness, and the strange props. It was all intended to invoke lust, longing, or affection in some form. He’d been hard pressed to figure out who would have the power to haul him around like an extra in a photo shoot simply because he hadn’t thought about looking in the upward direction.
“Well boys, I’ve got good news and bad news.” That got the attention of the others and they all turned to look at him expectantly. “Good news is that I think I’ve figured out what’s going on here.”
Dean looked practically resigned when he asked, “So what’s the bad news?”
“If I’m right it means the Cupids are out to get us and they got their big brothers in on it.” Castiel was the only one that looked suitably disturbed by the situation, but then again the Winchesters still didn’t have a good grasp of the Hierarchy or the general flora and fauna of Heaven. “Why would the Cherubim be after you, Gabriel?”
“Good question, bro, and I’m going to have to ask them.”
“Just like that?”
“Yes, kiddo, just like that.”
“Why do I get the feeling this is more complicated than you’re making it sound?”
“Because you, Samuel Winchester, are a unique and insightful human being. Now if you will excuse me I need to find some virgin ewes and a sickle.” With that he left quickly before they could think up anymore awkward questions.
He was really beginning to run short on answers.