X-Mas Challenge: Day 12
Title: Operation Planning
Author: deceptivemirror
Rating: G
Genre: schmoop, humor, teensy hint of angst
Characters: tons (as you can see in the tags, just to name the ones who've been named)
Summary: Someone had to make those boys smile. It was up to Gabriel to find the people who would.
Author's Note: I greatly enjoyed this challenge and the thrill of writing and proofing a new story a day! This was fantastic and I already can't wait until the next one!
Gabriel took his mug of black tea, sniffed it appreciatively, added five cubes of sugar to it, and stirred. He took a sip and nodded with satisfaction. Now it was perfect. Some people could drink black tea without sugar, but he did his best not to be one of them.
“Are we calling this meeting of the Dead Poets Society to order or what?” He called out, chuckling a little after he said it.
From across the table, Death, the stick-thin sourpuss, leveled a glare at him that probably chilled the bones of mortal folk. Too bad for him that Gabriel had never been mortal, even if he was killable.
“We are all accounted for at this point, Archangel,” Death said in that vaguely threatening whisper-tone of his. Gabriel, having associated with him as long as he had, could detect the faintest thread of amusement. He refused to quantify that to wishful thinking.
“God knows someone here's gotta get this show on the road,” Ellen Harvelle said in that sarcastic Southern drawl of hers. “A girl could grow old and die again at this rate.”
“Funny as always, Mom,” Jo Harvelle, slim blond dynamo, said with an eyeroll. Her mother gently cuffed her on the back of the head in retaliation, and Jo grinned at her.
“We are here to talk about Sam and Dean, right?” Jessica Moore, the eternally nightgowned, asked with curiosity.
“Far as I know, sweetheart,” Gabriel said, trying to make sure everyone was focused on the task. “Someone up above is trying to knock them down a few pegs.” He paused, thinking that statement over, and raised his hands a bit. “Let me rephrase that. When I say 'knock down a few pegs,' I mean 'bury them six feet under.'”
“If I couldn't do it, fat chance of that happening any time soon,” Gordon Walker said with a sneer, exposing some truly unfortunate dental work. Gabriel made a note to have him see a dentist here before he was sent back to Purgatory, and to prevent him from interfering in the plans.
“Someone's overconfident,” John Winchester noted, folding his arms over his chest. “I may have trained my boys, but they were the ones who killed you when I couldn't all those years ago, when you were human. Don't forget that.”
“Wow, did this go afield fast,” Gabriel muttered to himself, then spoke louder for the benefit of the room. “Ladies and gentlemen of various species and degrees of dead-ness, some things have to be done. We may not be able to defeat the host of Heaven, Metatron--”
“Your brother, I believe,” Death interjected raspily.
“Yes, my older brother,” Gabriel continued smoothly, not letting his friend and fellow foodie distract him, “but we can help lighten the load our boys are carrying.” He pointed to Jessica. “You, pretty lady in the sheer nightgown. Why don't you make sure that Sam knows you're happy?”
“How?” She asked, tilting her head at him. “By showing up naked in his sleep?”
That gave Gabriel pause. “Well, I'm not sure a guilt-boner's going to help anything, but let him know you're happy when you visit him next.”
Next, Gabriel pointed to John, Jo and Ellen, feeling a little like a drill sergeant. “You three, same thing. No nudity, lots of encouragement. John, try not to be a jackass. Jo, make sure you beat the crap out of Dean. Ellen, be the wonderful lady you've always been.”
John scowled, Jo nodded, and Ellen came over to kiss him on the cheek. “You're a sweetheart, Gabe,” she whispered in his ear.
“Steady diet of sugar helps that,” he murmured to her before she moved away.
“Death, my buddy,” Gabriel continued, “I know you're going to keep doing what you do. Just make sure that the people you take get the chance to absolve some guilt before they leave this sphere.”
“I make no promises, but I will do as you suggest,” Death said.
A chorus of voices piped up in the background, asking in a cacophony, “what about us?”
It made Gabriel turn around in his seat and see the group that had gathered. He recognized Madison, Bobby Singer, Mary Campbell-Winchester, and the various Campbell cousins that had all been killed after their untimely resurrection. He saw Amy Pond (and chuckled inwardly at her name), Rufus, Raphael, Meg and even Zachariah clamoring to help the Winchester brothers in any way they can.
Gabriel had to momentarily fight back tears, and he wasn't normally the crying type. Even a lot of the former enemies of the Winchesters wanted to help them somehow, seeing that they were carrying far too heavy a burden on those shoulders, strong as they were.
It gave him hope for the future.
“Well then,” Gabriel said with a smile and a dramatic arm flourish, “Operation: Cheer Up Emo Boys is a go!”
Author: deceptivemirror
Rating: G
Genre: schmoop, humor, teensy hint of angst
Characters: tons (as you can see in the tags, just to name the ones who've been named)
Summary: Someone had to make those boys smile. It was up to Gabriel to find the people who would.
Author's Note: I greatly enjoyed this challenge and the thrill of writing and proofing a new story a day! This was fantastic and I already can't wait until the next one!
Gabriel took his mug of black tea, sniffed it appreciatively, added five cubes of sugar to it, and stirred. He took a sip and nodded with satisfaction. Now it was perfect. Some people could drink black tea without sugar, but he did his best not to be one of them.
“Are we calling this meeting of the Dead Poets Society to order or what?” He called out, chuckling a little after he said it.
From across the table, Death, the stick-thin sourpuss, leveled a glare at him that probably chilled the bones of mortal folk. Too bad for him that Gabriel had never been mortal, even if he was killable.
“We are all accounted for at this point, Archangel,” Death said in that vaguely threatening whisper-tone of his. Gabriel, having associated with him as long as he had, could detect the faintest thread of amusement. He refused to quantify that to wishful thinking.
“God knows someone here's gotta get this show on the road,” Ellen Harvelle said in that sarcastic Southern drawl of hers. “A girl could grow old and die again at this rate.”
“Funny as always, Mom,” Jo Harvelle, slim blond dynamo, said with an eyeroll. Her mother gently cuffed her on the back of the head in retaliation, and Jo grinned at her.
“We are here to talk about Sam and Dean, right?” Jessica Moore, the eternally nightgowned, asked with curiosity.
“Far as I know, sweetheart,” Gabriel said, trying to make sure everyone was focused on the task. “Someone up above is trying to knock them down a few pegs.” He paused, thinking that statement over, and raised his hands a bit. “Let me rephrase that. When I say 'knock down a few pegs,' I mean 'bury them six feet under.'”
“If I couldn't do it, fat chance of that happening any time soon,” Gordon Walker said with a sneer, exposing some truly unfortunate dental work. Gabriel made a note to have him see a dentist here before he was sent back to Purgatory, and to prevent him from interfering in the plans.
“Someone's overconfident,” John Winchester noted, folding his arms over his chest. “I may have trained my boys, but they were the ones who killed you when I couldn't all those years ago, when you were human. Don't forget that.”
“Wow, did this go afield fast,” Gabriel muttered to himself, then spoke louder for the benefit of the room. “Ladies and gentlemen of various species and degrees of dead-ness, some things have to be done. We may not be able to defeat the host of Heaven, Metatron--”
“Your brother, I believe,” Death interjected raspily.
“Yes, my older brother,” Gabriel continued smoothly, not letting his friend and fellow foodie distract him, “but we can help lighten the load our boys are carrying.” He pointed to Jessica. “You, pretty lady in the sheer nightgown. Why don't you make sure that Sam knows you're happy?”
“How?” She asked, tilting her head at him. “By showing up naked in his sleep?”
That gave Gabriel pause. “Well, I'm not sure a guilt-boner's going to help anything, but let him know you're happy when you visit him next.”
Next, Gabriel pointed to John, Jo and Ellen, feeling a little like a drill sergeant. “You three, same thing. No nudity, lots of encouragement. John, try not to be a jackass. Jo, make sure you beat the crap out of Dean. Ellen, be the wonderful lady you've always been.”
John scowled, Jo nodded, and Ellen came over to kiss him on the cheek. “You're a sweetheart, Gabe,” she whispered in his ear.
“Steady diet of sugar helps that,” he murmured to her before she moved away.
“Death, my buddy,” Gabriel continued, “I know you're going to keep doing what you do. Just make sure that the people you take get the chance to absolve some guilt before they leave this sphere.”
“I make no promises, but I will do as you suggest,” Death said.
A chorus of voices piped up in the background, asking in a cacophony, “what about us?”
It made Gabriel turn around in his seat and see the group that had gathered. He recognized Madison, Bobby Singer, Mary Campbell-Winchester, and the various Campbell cousins that had all been killed after their untimely resurrection. He saw Amy Pond (and chuckled inwardly at her name), Rufus, Raphael, Meg and even Zachariah clamoring to help the Winchester brothers in any way they can.
Gabriel had to momentarily fight back tears, and he wasn't normally the crying type. Even a lot of the former enemies of the Winchesters wanted to help them somehow, seeing that they were carrying far too heavy a burden on those shoulders, strong as they were.
It gave him hope for the future.
“Well then,” Gabriel said with a smile and a dramatic arm flourish, “Operation: Cheer Up Emo Boys is a go!”