Title - Every Breath You Take
Chapter title - The Day They Met
Author - OblivionsGarden
Genre - Romance/Drama
Disclaimer - I do not own Supernatural in anyway, shape or form. I only own the plot points surrounding my oc's, not recognized from the show or comics.
Chapter Word Count - 2214 words.
Summary - Gabriel took her breath away seven times before the one time she gave it willingly. (Mate fic)
A/n - This will only be a mini series, probably around eight or so chapters, (if my planning is correct). And the chapters probably won't be the longest either but I've wanted to write something for Gabriel for ages so it's high time I got round to it. Title and plot inspired by Queen's - You Take My Breath Away.
"You're gonna think I'm nuts."
"FBI deal with nuts on the daily. Try me."
"Well... I never saw his body, just the head... It was round, pale white and he had beady black eyes. A-and a mustache, a really thick mustache and two little bits of hair on top and he was wearing a red bow tie."
"Y'mean like the Pringles guy?"
"Exactly."
Ok, maybe he was nuts after all. Trying to keep your face impassive you scribbled down the words 'pringles' and 'head check' in your note pad. You thanked the man for his time and offered your faux FBI card, telling him to call should he think of anything useful. You left his house with a sigh, running your hand through your hair and climbing into your car. You sat for a moment going over this case in your head.
First it was a women who had been forcing her daughter into beauty pageants that had been attacked by a cosmologist she swore had black eyes. You'd thought demon but there was no evidence to suggest it.
Second was the teenage boy who kept trying to get his female classmates to send him nudes. He swore on the universe that his long deceased grandmother had come into his bedroom and scolded him for four hours straight about having basic respect.
And now there was the over weight man who ran a phony charity donating to world hunger, except the money went straight into his back pocket. Apparently, attacked by the pringles man last night.
And what evidence did you have. Nothing. Nada. Zero. Zilch. Zip.
With a string of curse words you drove back to the motel whilst you called your old friend and hunting issue go to, Bobby Singer. You relayed everything back to him and he promised to call you if he figured anything out. You were just set to grab one of the gas station sandwiches you had left over and call it a day when your police scanner buzzed to life. Another hit.
This time it was four pre-teens who had been throwing rocks through an elderly woman's window. They said a witch lived there and said they had seen her, warts and all. She had cursed them apparently to a lifetime of brown stains on the back of their pants. The old lady you spoke to however had just been watching some television when rocks came through her window. Then there was a flash and they were gone. She was none the wiser to being accused of witch craft.
"Hey, Agent?" One of the local towns police called to you. "There's a witness out here if you want to speak to him."
"Alright, thanks."
You put away you notebook and tried to steel yourself for whatever nonsense you were about to hear this time. Only, as you left the old woman's yard and found yourself on the street, you felt your lungs constrict. It was only for a moment, but it felt longer as your eyes landed on the so called witness.
As you caught your breath and moved towards him, you decided it was because of his eyes. In the late afternoon sun they were almost glowing a golden hue, so bright for a second you thought he might've been something other than human but when they gazed upon you they seemed more natural although no less impressive.
"Agent Carter." You introduced yourself with your alias, stretching out a hand to this man. His skin was soft on yours as he shook your hand with a smile, a smile that you were certain could alight the sky and have a chorus of angels singing if he widened it even a fraction. In his free hand you noticed a bright red lollipop and hoped to god he didn't decide to put it in his mouth whilst you were trying to maintain a level of professionalism.
"Noah." He spoke in a voice like honey. "Noah Schultz."
"Noah Schultz." You repeated, shaking your head when you caught yourself. What the hell were you doing, fawning over the man you literally just met. "You saw what happened?" You pulled your notebook back out, needing something to distract you from the handsome face in front of you.
"I mean... Not really." He shrugged. "Punk kids threw some rocks and then ran down the street screaming."
"So no witch then?"
"I think Mrs Eldermire is too nice for that. She makes a mean lemon drizzle but I don't think she's ever shoved a kid into her oven." He winked.
"Right." You sighed again, managing to regain your professional composure, even if his wink did have your insides fluttering. "Well thanks for hanging around to talk to me. I could use all the help I can get on this one if I'm honest."
"Well I'm no FBI agent but I'm always available to talk to pretty women if you need me."
There was a pause, a moment where you wanted to flirt right back, ask him to meet you for a drink later. But you were working and you had set yourself rules. No dates on a case. It just got messy when you had to kill some supernatural being and leave them waiting for you at the bar.
"Maybe when I'm finished with the case." You smiled, pulling out another card and handing it to him. "If you think of anything I should know."
"I think you should know my number." He held out his hand for your notepad and after a second of deliberation you handed it over, watching him scribble his number at the bottom of the page. "Call me when you solve this one."
"I'll think about it, Mr Schultz."
Biting the inside of your cheek you turned to head back to your car, hearing his call of 'call me Noah' behind you.
You were just about to call it night when your phone buzzed again. You rolled your eyes, wondering if you'd ever get to sleep, and grabbed the phone to answer. It was Bobby, informing you that he thought your problem was a Trickster. Look out for anyone at all the incidents and anyone with a sweet tooth. Great. That was just great. All you needed to be up against was a damn pagan god.
Giving up on sleep for the time being you went back through the police reports on the other incidents and after a couple of hours, you found one witness name that popped up on all of them. Noah Schultz. And he did have a lollipop when you spoke to him earlier. Of course, you thought bitterly, the first person to flirt with me in so long is the one I've gotta kill.
Checking the time you saw it was almost midnight but figured, to hell with it. You dialed Noah's number, surprised when he answered on the second ring.
"Hello?" He answered in a jovial tone and given that you couldn't see his beautiful face, you found yourself scowling at him.
"Hey, Noah... It's Agent Carter. I'm heading out for some late drinks if you feel like joining me." You lied.
"That does sound like fun." You could practically hear the smile in his voice. "Where are we going?"
You gave him the name of a local bar you'd passed on your way into town and said you'd be there in ten. You changed quickly into some jeans and a jacket, not bothering to dress up. Again, you had to remind yourself you weren't trying to get laid here, you were going to kill a god.
When you got to the bar you checked the trunk of your car just to double check you still had a stake in there. Giving yourself a quick pep talk, you headed inside and found the man, or god, in question already at the bar.
"Well hey there, sugar. Thought you'd stood me up." He slid a drink to you, smiling when you narrowed your eyes at it. "Figured you'd be the kinda gal that liked sex on the beach." He wiggled his eyebrows and you failed to suppress the smirk at his joke.
"That line ever get you anywhere before?" You took a sip, wincing at the amount of vodka in the drink.
"Is it getting me anywhere now?"
"It's getting you closer to a drink thrown in your face."
"Noted." He smiled again, and you were almost certain the light bulbs got brighter with it. "So, what happened to waiting until your case was finished?"
"All I have is a whole heap of dead ends and nothing to go on. I could use a drink and I don't like to drink alone."
"Well, I'm glad I was first choice."
"You weren't. But Mrs Eldermire is a light weight so here we are." The laugh your joke earned you caught you off guard. It was loud but light and you hoped you'd get to hear it again before the night was over.
As you sat together at the bar, drinking and talking and luckily laughing, all thoughts of the stake in the trunk of your car were forgotten. It wasn't until the bartender called last orders that you remembered what you were there for.
"So, Agent, do you have to go back to whatever hotel the government has put you up in or do you want to continue this little soiree at my place?" You looked at your car, recalling that your only useful weapon was in there. "I can drive if you're too tanked. I'm sober enough."
Sighing you tossed him your keys and climbed into the passenger seat. You felt the cool air on the side of your thigh, the thigh that had been tightly pressed against his for most of the night at the bar. You frowned at the lack of contact and cursed your modern car and it's centre console for taking away the ability to slide over to him. It was probably for the best. You were about to kill him after all.
It was the smell of bacon that woke you up. Bacon and something else. Something sweeter. And humming too. A melody that you didn't recognize.
Frowning, you shifted yourself into a seated position, slowly taking in your surroundings. You were in a bed, the satin sheets far more luxurious than you were used to in your usual cheap motels. Tip toeing from the room you saw Noah, dressed in only red underwear and a white tank top, making pancakes and bacon.
"Morning." He called over his shoulder and you cursed that he somehow knew you were there. "You're a late sleeper, you know that?" He nodded up at the clock on the wall indicating it was past ten.
"Late night." Your shrugged, frowning. "Did we, uh... Y'know-"
"Have incredible, mind blowing, orgasmic, sex?" He asked, placing a plate of pancakes on the table before you. "No. You fell asleep on the sofa so I put you in my bed."
"Where did you sleep?"
"Don't worry, Sugar! I stayed out here as a respectful gentleman would." You nodded and sat down to eat, wondering how to get out of this situation. "It would've been nice if you were as respectful toward me."
"Excuse me?" You frowned, fork full of food halfway to your mouth.
"Oh puuh-lease, like I didn't know about the steak in your trunk." Shit. Shit, shit, shit. How the hell did he- "You hunters are always so obvious about it. But you... You weren't going to go through with it." His arrogant smirk brought back your irritation from the night previous.
"Says who?"
"Your heart." He shrugged, tucking into his own breakfast. "The steak hasn't even been dipped in the blood of a victim."
"It's kinda hard to do that when none of your victims are dead."
"Exactly." He pointed a finger at you. "I didn't kill anyone, so what's the problem."
"The problem, Mr Shultz, or whatever your damn name is, is that you are screwing with innocent people."
"Actually, Agent Carter, or whatever your damn name is, none of these people are innocent. Child exploitation, sexual harassment, fraudulent theft, and abuse of the elderly? Oh yeah, they were all saints."
"Ok, so they were assholes, it doesn't give you the right to-"
"Be an asshole right back?"
You sighed, exasperated. He was right and you knew it. You weren't going to kill him last night because the honest part of you, the part that wasn't blinded by your life as a hunter, didn't exactly see a problem with what he was doing. No one died and no one was seriously injured. Just scared, hopefully enough to stop what they were doing. Sensing you weren't in any danger with him, you were silent whilst you both finished your breakfast.
"Alright... Fine. I wasn't going to kill you. This time." He quirked his head with a frown and you bit your cheek to refrain from commenting on how adorable that was. "But if I hear about some Trickster killing anyone, I will stake you myself."
"Noted." He smiled again as he watched you head for the door. "Will I see you again?"
"Not if you behave yourself."
"That doesn't make me want to behave."
You snorted at his words. "See you around, Noah."