Tricks
Title: Tricks
Rating: PG
Pairing: John/Gabriel
Spoilers/Warnings: None
Summary: Five times the Trickster tricked John Winchester and one time there was no trick.
Notes: Written on comment_fic for kijikun
John pulls the waitress around by the shoulder, rumbles, "Did a guy come running through here?"
He growls when she shakes her head, eyes wide and mouth open in an 'o' of surprise. He scans the room, scowls when he can't see his target, turns to leave.
He doesn't see the waitress roll her eyes--now bright amber gold--and snap her fingers, disappearing in an instant.
-----
"Loki!" John shouts, voice echoing back from the walls. "I know you're in here!"
He's got a shotgun in one hand, wooden stake in the other, and he holds both at the ready as he stalks through the warehouse. Peering around the corner of a pile of long-abandoned crates, he goes silent when he sees the shadowy outline of the Trickster. Edging up to the spot, he acts quickly, twisting and stabbing the stake into the Trickster's chest.
Lights come on and John squints, watches as the body he'd just stabbed morphs into a simple dummy, crudely carved to look like the Trickster's favored human form. John swears loudly as laughter fills the air.
-----
Her name is Gabriela and she speaks mostly Spanish, all rolled vowels and oddly accented consonants. She's not his usual type, but she's beautiful, with her wavy black hair and tilted grey eyes and sun-bronzed skin. And she's human and he's been craving that connection to regular people and she fits the bill nicely.
He spends three hours with her in a motel down the street from the one he'd checked into with his sons. But when he comes out of the shower, she's gone and the bed is pristine, with just one thing on it.
John wastes another hour checking the room, because he'd lost that pistol hunting the Trickster four states away, but he finds nothing but the faint smell of sugar and ozone.
-----
He's in South Carolina, eating breakfast with his boys at an IHOP, watching Sam carefully eat around the smiley face of arranged food on his giant pancake. The waiter stops by the refill his coffee and he smiles his thanks, reaching for the sugar.
John measures out a spoonful, stirs it in as Dean steals bacon strips off of Sam's plate. He takes a long swallow, spits it out and grabs Sam's water, drinking down half of it to rid his mouth of the taste.
Scowling at the coffee, he eyes the sugar. Pressing one fingertip into the white grains, he licks it, grimacing at the salty taste. He's looking up to flag down a waiter to inform them of it, when he catches a glimpse of the kitchen doors just before the swing shut.
Amber eyes grin at him as the Trickster salutes him before he's cut off from view. John sighs, pushes his coffee away and waves away his sons' questions.
-----
He's cleaning his guns when a wind picks up in the motel room, blowing fierce for a second--papers and clothes and other small things whirling around through the air--then drops away when something appears on the floor.
John's already standing, half-assembled gun in his hand, before the wind has fully gone. Dean and Sam are staring from the bed where they'd been playing a card game.
His first impression of the thing is the wings, all tawny brown and cream and each easily as long as John is tall. Then he moves, sees the figure under the mess of feathers and he scowls.
"What are you doing here?" he growls, kneeling by the Trickster's head.
Loki's hand shoots out to grasp his ankle in a surprisingly strong grip. "Need...your help," he says, breathing fast. John frowns, glances over what he can see and this time notices the bloodstains, the way the feathers of the wings are ruffled, pointing every which way, how one wing is laying at an awkward angle.
"What..."
"Please," Loki whispers as his eyes, now a pale imitation of their usual color, flutter shut.
John hesitates, but this is different, something completely new and he finds himself willing to see where it goes. He reaches down to pry Loki's fingers off of his leg, holds them for a moment.
"Yeah, okay."
Rating: PG
Pairing: John/Gabriel
Spoilers/Warnings: None
Summary: Five times the Trickster tricked John Winchester and one time there was no trick.
Notes: Written on comment_fic for kijikun
John pulls the waitress around by the shoulder, rumbles, "Did a guy come running through here?"
He growls when she shakes her head, eyes wide and mouth open in an 'o' of surprise. He scans the room, scowls when he can't see his target, turns to leave.
He doesn't see the waitress roll her eyes--now bright amber gold--and snap her fingers, disappearing in an instant.
-----
"Loki!" John shouts, voice echoing back from the walls. "I know you're in here!"
He's got a shotgun in one hand, wooden stake in the other, and he holds both at the ready as he stalks through the warehouse. Peering around the corner of a pile of long-abandoned crates, he goes silent when he sees the shadowy outline of the Trickster. Edging up to the spot, he acts quickly, twisting and stabbing the stake into the Trickster's chest.
Lights come on and John squints, watches as the body he'd just stabbed morphs into a simple dummy, crudely carved to look like the Trickster's favored human form. John swears loudly as laughter fills the air.
-----
Her name is Gabriela and she speaks mostly Spanish, all rolled vowels and oddly accented consonants. She's not his usual type, but she's beautiful, with her wavy black hair and tilted grey eyes and sun-bronzed skin. And she's human and he's been craving that connection to regular people and she fits the bill nicely.
He spends three hours with her in a motel down the street from the one he'd checked into with his sons. But when he comes out of the shower, she's gone and the bed is pristine, with just one thing on it.
John wastes another hour checking the room, because he'd lost that pistol hunting the Trickster four states away, but he finds nothing but the faint smell of sugar and ozone.
-----
He's in South Carolina, eating breakfast with his boys at an IHOP, watching Sam carefully eat around the smiley face of arranged food on his giant pancake. The waiter stops by the refill his coffee and he smiles his thanks, reaching for the sugar.
John measures out a spoonful, stirs it in as Dean steals bacon strips off of Sam's plate. He takes a long swallow, spits it out and grabs Sam's water, drinking down half of it to rid his mouth of the taste.
Scowling at the coffee, he eyes the sugar. Pressing one fingertip into the white grains, he licks it, grimacing at the salty taste. He's looking up to flag down a waiter to inform them of it, when he catches a glimpse of the kitchen doors just before the swing shut.
Amber eyes grin at him as the Trickster salutes him before he's cut off from view. John sighs, pushes his coffee away and waves away his sons' questions.
-----
He's cleaning his guns when a wind picks up in the motel room, blowing fierce for a second--papers and clothes and other small things whirling around through the air--then drops away when something appears on the floor.
John's already standing, half-assembled gun in his hand, before the wind has fully gone. Dean and Sam are staring from the bed where they'd been playing a card game.
His first impression of the thing is the wings, all tawny brown and cream and each easily as long as John is tall. Then he moves, sees the figure under the mess of feathers and he scowls.
"What are you doing here?" he growls, kneeling by the Trickster's head.
Loki's hand shoots out to grasp his ankle in a surprisingly strong grip. "Need...your help," he says, breathing fast. John frowns, glances over what he can see and this time notices the bloodstains, the way the feathers of the wings are ruffled, pointing every which way, how one wing is laying at an awkward angle.
"What..."
"Please," Loki whispers as his eyes, now a pale imitation of their usual color, flutter shut.
John hesitates, but this is different, something completely new and he finds himself willing to see where it goes. He reaches down to pry Loki's fingers off of his leg, holds them for a moment.
"Yeah, okay."