GET A ROOM
Dean stomped into the room as though it had personally offended him. "Chick we're lookin' for, right?" he demanded.
"Yeah, Dean, she was killed by her boyfriend and came back to haunt him, apparently."
Dean snorted. "Sounds like a dick. Can't just break up with his girl has to kill her instead." He looked from the staircase to the hallway and the living room. "Figure out what sets her off?"
Sam huffed. "If you hadn't spent all of last night getting drunk at a bar, you'd know this," he sniped.
Dean shrugged. "Well, we still gotta find her anchor. I hate ghosts that were cremated. No friggin' bones…"
Sam rolled his eyes and stepped into the living room. "Hey Dean, remember that ghost with the creepy doll?" he asked, eyeing the antique toy sitting on its own chair.
"Yeah, and—"
Sam was reaching out for the doll when something screamed, a dark shape rushing at him, and was just as suddenly cut off by the fluttering of wings.
"What the fuck, Gabe?" Dean demanded, blinking at the ghost's sudden appearance and just as sudden disappearance.
The archangel just smirked and slapped Sam's ass. "Well, couldn't let a ghost just tear my favorite moose a new one." He took the doll from Sam and tossed it to Dean. "Might want to burn that, by the way. I didn't actually kill the ghost."
Dean sneered, grabbing the toy from the air and flicking open his lighter. "Hey! None of that shit in front of me!" he growled, catching his brother smiling at his boyfriend and the angel clearly sizing him up.
Gabriel just rolled his eyes and pulled Sam forward with two fingers hooked in between his shirt buttons. "Oh yeah? What're you gonna do about it, human?"
Dean shook the lighter at him. "You wanna pull that crap, you get a room, got it?" Like the feathered bastard had listened to the past months of Dean's warnings.
"Dean—" Sam began, but his boyfriend cut him off.
"Sounds like a plan to me." One tug on Sam's hips, and Dean was left staring at an empty room.
x x x
"Damn it, Gabe—" Sam started, before he noticed the room Gabriel had zapped them to.
The room had an opulent simplicity, decorated in cream and gold with elegant furniture arranged around the room. It was a far cry from the fleabag motels he and his brother usually rented.
"Where are we?" He didn't add this time.
"The Plaza," Gabe drawled, leering.
"In New Y—"
"…honeymoon suite."
Sam scowled and turned away, suddenly noticing the bed. It was massive, clearly trying to dominate the room and doing a damn good job. "You have got to be kidding me."
"What, you didn't think I'd keep ravishing you in those crap motels forever, did you? Especially after such a perfect invitation. My moose deserves better."
"Gee. Thanks."
Gabriel grinned, snapping their clothes away. "Only the best for you, babe."