I thought I'd try my hand at one-word-prompt drabbles, rather than rest up so I don't fall asleep and get trampled on at slave camp - I mean, work experience - tomorrow.

Meh, who needs sleep?

I don't own Supernatural. I do, however, own my OCs and this spectacular milkshake. Mm... Milkshake...

Enjoy.

Yours Insanely,

{E~L~L}

PS: No, you can't have my milkshake. Stop staring! Go buy your own!


Hate


"I hate you."

Gabriel smirked. He was used to hearing those words; since deciding to join Team Free Will and help out the Winchesters, that particular combination of words had been shot in his direction practically on a daily basis. He cracked open an eye from his place on the sofa to see Dean glaring at him, and smirked some more. Yup, he'd definitely noticed the Impala's mysterious change of paint from dark green to bright pink, with a touch of Hello Kitty decor for the interior.

"I know."


"I hate you."

Sam, this time. Gabriel didn't even bother cracking open an eye, and merely made himself more comfortable on the only bed in the motel room, adding spikes to the top of the kiddy's gate in the doorway where the younger Winchester was standing - and, after a moment's deliberation, a pacifier for the glaring human's moving mouth. He didn't need the bed, technically - it wasn't like he needed to sleep, and fortunately for the Winchesters he didn't swing that way - but just for kicks... He'd do it to piss them off. Just like old times.

"I know."


" I hate you. "

Stated simply and coolly - despite the certain shock and embarressment that his very inappropriate timing had stirred up - Liath Gaineamh, AKA Grey Sand merely picked up her waiting towel from the rack, wrapped it around her dripping frame, and stalked out of the bathroom with an air of dignity that made him grin.

"I love you too, cupcake," he called after her teasingly. Oh, the Possession was great fun to poke at, despite her self-control and amazing poker face.

It did cross his mind whether he was truly going somewhere with this, or whether he just wanted to see how many people he could get to say those three words to his face in one weekend.


"... I'm gonna rip out your insides..."

Gabriel turned around and took in the fangs, the two-clawed hooves, the crackles of electricity in the surrounding air, the sheer power emanating from the shackinjira.

He considered whether he'd taken things too far this time by replacing Nidenski's mints with laxatives.

The laxatives hadn't even worked, but who knew that a steady suger intake was the only thing keeping the Rogue Steed's homicidal impulses in check? He tried to keep up an unworried and flippant attitude as the beast took a menacing step forward, snaking his head down and lowering his jaw.

"Well... That's a new one." Gabriel tried, with a slightly nervous smile, to stop from stepping back as Nidenski took another step forward.

"Uh, Grey? Niden's not looking so good." 'Not looking so good' was an understatement; if the croatoan virus could have hit shackinjiras, Gabriel would have been convinced that Nidenski was infected. The beast was practically frothing at the mouth.

No answer from Grey. In fact, the suite they'd booked was suspiciously quiet. As the rabid Blood Steed slowly backed him into a corner, Gabriel tried again to call out.

"Sam? Dean? Guys, a little help!"

The air was crackling with electricity, and the lights flickered before cutting out entirely. The whole place was pitched into darkness, until all he could see were those murderous bloody crimson eyes glowing against the black.

"So... I guess you really hate me right now, don't you?"

Shit. The shackinjira was so going to kill him.