Disclaimer: I do not own supernatural

Sam had been on the job a long time. He was still running the streets in his blues, not detective yet like his brother. Or captain like his father had been before the gang wars got him. Gangs. Thats where Sam focused his extra time. He'd been hunting down the gang that killed his parents since before he'd even been accepted to the academy. He smiled as he shook his head ruefully, his too long hair shaking. It was against regulation for it to be this long but no one said anything because he was such a perfect officer. He did what he was told. He didn't ask questions. He did paperwork. He didn't complain. He was friendly to everyone. So what if his hair was too long? If it got to the point where he had to pull it back in a pony tail, he'd be spoken to but it was fine for now. Sam started up his tired old cruiser and pulled it out onto the street to begin his day of routine calls. Strip club brawl, regular call from an old lady or two, but then he got called to an art gallery. Their alarm had been tripped so he pulled up and hopped out. As he approached, wary ears on high alert, he heard cursing from inside. He grabbed hold of the radio on his shoulder and called in for back up before slipping inside, gun drawn, following his line of sight. When he'd done a good case of the place he began heading to the voice. He found a smaller man, with piercing gold eyes and perfect golden hair cursing as he tugged his arm, desperate to get free of the restraint barring his exit. The bars had lowered on the piece he'd been trying to steal and, frankly, Sam was impressed the black clad thief had made it this far. His wrist was caught between the bars in a vice grip, a tug of war that the bars were winning.

"Hello officer." The thief smiled a dashing, dazzling smile at Sam who had lowered his gun hesitantly.

"Do you have any weapons?" Sam asked warily.

"Well we're in the nastiest part of town." The man said in a 'duh' voice as he wiggled his hips. "Wanna search me?" He winked at Sam who blushed. Sam thought about what to do, relying on his impeccable memory of the academy and all the books he'd read. He began by cuffing the man's free hand to the bars before he proceeded to search him for any weapons, wondering where in the hell his back up was. When he'd taken the man's knife from his boot, and hiding it in his own, he set about trying to get the alarm to stop blaring obnoxiously.

"Do you have a name?" He asked after the wailing had stopped.

"Gabriel." He responded pouting as he resumed trying to pull his hand free. "And you're Officer Winchester." Gabriel threw a flirtatious look over his shoulder. Sam took a moment before realizing he'd read it off his name bar on his chest. "Isn't there some way you and me could work this out?" Gabriel asked with his most lust filled eyes. Sam wondered in passing if they were contacts, and thought of someone else before shuddering and shutting down that train of thought.

"You and I." Sam corrected. Bad grammar was really a turn off. And things were going so well. He shook his head as he tried to radio in about his backup only to receive static. He was beginning to get nervous but before he could say or do anything else, the entire place was swarmed with thugs. They were wielding bats and planks with nails poking out. Some were even carrying guns. Sam's hand went automatically to his gun, finger on the trigger ready. All he had to do was raise it. But then someone was walking out among them, their leader.

"Hello Sam." He purred. His bright yellow contacts shifting before correcting themselves when he blinked. His manic smile and white teeth didn't fit the face, neither did the eyes though. He'd lit Mary, Sam's mother, on fire when Sam was just a baby. Sam, Dean, and their father were left crippled as a family. John had thrown himself into his new work, quitting being a mechanic to join the force, to stop that from happening to anyone else. He'd made a name for himself, but then he'd been murdered going after Azazle when he'd threatened Sam and Dean one too many times.

"Hey. Guys..." The thief said smiling awkwardly. He knew now that the thugs were in charge his likelihood of dying just made a huge jump.

"Tie em up boys." Azazle said and his minions set to work. There were four around Sam who had his gun pointed, eye level ready to shoot. "Now, Sammy." Azazle purred.

"Don't call me that." Sam snarled. He began popping off rounds, loud bangs filling the air as bodies dropped, crumpled to the floor, blood leaking out of their foreheads. Sam was a deadly shot but as he was shooting, one of the thugs behind him hit him upside the back of his head with the butt of a gun. Sam went down with a thud and they set about trying to figure out what to do with Gabriel the thief.