Title: New Job
Author: Aithilin
Rating: G
Pairings: N/A
Warnings: Brief spoiler for "Hammer of the Gods"
Word Count: 375
Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to "Supernatural," "Pepsi," or "Coke." I am not making any money from this little work of fiction. Nor do I own the name "Lyesmith," and yes, that is a reference to Gaiman's American Gods.
Summary: Gabriel has a new job that gives him time to think.
Author's Notes: It seemed like a good idea at the time.
—
He found that he liked the open road. Travelling across all of North America, stopping at diners and meeting locals. It was perfect. He got a good sense of what he had been fighting for.
And, more importantly, it kept him off the radars of anyone who might be looking.
For L.K. Lyesmith, it was a great con.
He decided that Lyesmith liked the adventure of travelling, and the 'meeting new people' aspect of the job. The uniform was a bonus, really.
For Gabriel, the archangel, it was a great way to stay the hell away from the Winchesters. The job gave him time to recharge his mojo, and stay off the map while the Apocalypse sizzled out around the world. Whatever he did now, his only goal was to stay out of the way of the Winchesters and their guilt trips and logic.
He was Loki, for Dad's sake! He didn't do logic. It was a mistake to sacrifice self-preservation in the first place, and now that he was resurrected, he wasn't about to do it again. He wasn't going to waste another chance at life, even if the invitation to go home was still there. When he felt like it, he could feel Heaven still open. Castiel was home; pulsing with a power that Gabriel wasn't sure he wanted to understand. He just knew that the little brother got a promotion and it meant that he was free to roam around Earth for a while longer.
But right now, away from the family squabbling and the reminder that his brother killed him, Gabriel— a.k.a. L.K. Lyesmith— had a job to do.
The Pepsi truck rattled as he pulled it to a stop outside the diner. Slicking back his hair and pulling the black cap on, he climbed out and stifled the grin when he saw the guy already in the tiny, greasy, establishment.
He'd been following that Coke driver for two towns now. Saw all kinds of dirty little secrets a guy in a truck could amass in that time.
The bell above the diner door chimed as he wiped the grin away and pulled himself up to the counter to start a conversation.
It seemed like a good idea at the time.