A/N: If you haven't seen "Empire Records", you should. It is an awesome 90s film. But if you do watch it, make sure it is the original cut and not the "Re-mix" version.
When Chuck Beck sold his father's bathroom fixture business to buy the little storefront in Venice Beach that would become Garrison Records, he knew it was right. It was the right thing to do.
Music is important. It allows to you express what you can't say with words. It gives connection between people who may have nothing else in common and provides stronger bonds for those who do. It can lift someone from misery and can make a memory even brighter. Chuck knew this.
He remembered meeting Rebecca at a college mixer with Neil Sedaka's falsetto playing over the hi-fi. He remembers "I Wanna Hold Your Hand" on the car radio as he slipped an engagement ring onto her finger with shaky hands almost two years later. He remembers singing "Puff the Magic Dragon" to his infant son as he rocked him to sleep. Music was Chuck's life. Garrison Records was the right decision.
Unfortunately, Chuck's eldest son Michael didn't feel that way. Oh sure, he loved Huey Lewis or Phil Collins as much as the next guy, but he didn't see music as the life changing experience that his father had. It wouldn't have been his choice to own the store, but after his dad's death five years ago, he hadn't had much of a choice. Garrison was an okay store and it made okay money, but Michael knew that had he been selling bathtubs and toilets, he would've been a millionaire today.
Crowley remembered Chuck well. He had started as a cashier in the early 80s when he still looked like a new wave nightmare and played drums for a Joy Division knock-off. Chuck was a good guy and a good boss. He was quiet and kept to himself a lot, but on late nights, after closing, he would crack open a couple beers and talk to Crowley about why Pete Seeger was more influential than Bob Dylan. Crowley hoped he wouldn't be dishonoring Chuck's memory by beating an employee to a pulp.
"I swear, I am going to kill that prat," Crowley growled as he slumped into his desk chair. He scrubbed a hand over his face. He had no idea what had prompted Castiel to run off with the day's take. He had already checked and double-checked every safe, drawer, and cabinet in the store and the only thing he had come up with was an abandoned bank bag on his office sofa. The kid hadn't been at the apartment when Crowley had left that morning. Crowley had assumed that he had hooked up with someone, but now he feels that Cas' action were much more nefarious.
There is a soft knock. Crowley looks up to see Gabriel is standing at the door. He has a small plastic container in his hand.
"Is this a bad time?" He asks.
"Isn't it always a bad time?" Crowley sighs, but he waves Gabe into the office. He pulls up a chair on the opposite side of the desk and drops the container in front of Crowley.
"What's this?" Crowley asks suspiciously.
"Try it,"Gabriel says, producing a plastic fork out of nowhere. Crowley tentatively takes the fork and opens the container to reveal something layered, obviously sweet and dusted with cocoa powder. He digs a fork into it and takes a cautious bite. Gabriel watches him with eager eyes.
"So?" He asks as Crowley takes a second bite.
"S'good," he says between chews.
"Just good or 'good' good?" he looks on anxiously.
"It's very good, Gabriel," Crowley reassures, "What is it?"
"Chocolate tiramisu with hazelnut mascarpone." He announces. Crowley lets out an impressed little 'hmm' as he continues to eat the desert.
"Tastes like Nutella," Crowley adds.
"That's the whole point!" Gabe says with a wide grin, "I added Frangelico to the mascarpone and just a touch or finely ground espresso powder to the cocoa."
"So basically I'm going to be on a drunken sugar high all day, huh?" Crowley smirks wryly. Gabriel laughs lightly and leans in closer to the desk.
"So I need some advice"
"Ah, I should've known," Crowley sighs, dropping the fork on the desk, "Bribing me with desert, Gabriel? That's low even for you."
"What can I say?" Gabriel throws his arms out lazily, "I'm a trickster." Crowley shakes his head and leans back, giving him a 'go ahead' gesture.
"So here's the thing," Gabriel takes a deep breath, "You're kind of a romance expert, right?"
"Oh yes," Crowley drawls sarcastically, "My wife left me for another woman and my girlfriend Abby forced me to leave at gunpoint. Does that qualify me?"
"Of course," he replies, moving quickly on to his own topic, "I've decided that today is the day I am going to tell Sam how I feel… about him." Crowley nods lazily; this isn't exactly a new conversation. Gabriel's puppy-love obsession with Sam was an ever-present topic of conversation between these two.
"I mean I've been working here on-and-off for almost 7 years," Gabe continues, "It's time to shit or get off the pot. I'm going to just go up to Sam and tell him that I… uh…"
"Love him?" Crowley completes his thought.
"Exactly," Gabriel says, "So how do I do that?"
"You say 'I love you'," Crowley deadpans, "What? Do you want written instructions?" He stands up from his desk and begins walking toward the door.
"Well, yeah, actually. That'd be helpful," Gabe mumbles, "I'm going to do it!"
"Good"
"By noon, or one"
"That's nice"
"By 1:37 exactly!" Crowley turns to see Gabriel nodding with a huge self-satisfied grin.
"Good for you. Look, Gabriel, as much as I love our little distractions, my professional life is kind of falling apart right now," He opens the office door, motioning for Gabe to leave, "Thank you for the desert." Gabriel exits and the door slams behind him.
He walks over to his locker and digs through his bag once more, retrieving a foil wrapped brick. He pushes through the swinging doors into the empty store. Alfie is at the front counter, sifting through CDs for the perfect opening music.
"Hey, Alfie!" Gabriel shouts as he approaches the younger man. Alfie looks up just as Gabriel tosses him the brick.
"What's this?" Alfie asks as he examines the package, carefully pulling back the foil.
"Brownies. My special recipe," He points a deliberate finger in Alfie's direction and wiggles his eyebrows, "You know what that means." Alfie giggles spastically in response.
"Alright!" Alfie shouts, "Thanks, Gabe." He turns back toward the break room to get the duties list for the day.
Dean and Sam exit the Impala, both singing one of Luke Cypher's classic hits under their breath and dissolving into a fit of laughter when neither can hit the high note.
"Oh my God, I remember the first time I saw that video," Sam sighs wistfully, "I thought I was going to piss myself."
"You were 8, you probably did piss yourself," Dean chides.
"Shut up," Sam pushes him playfully. As they reach the back door, Gabriel comes bursting through.
"Hey, uh, you guys do not want to go in there right now," He says, leading them to the opposite side of the store.
"Happy Luke Cypher Day!" Sam announces, handing Gabriel a cupcake.
"Oh, cool, Thanks Sam!" he replies as he starts to remove the paper wrapper from the treat.
"What's going, Gabe?" Dean says, redirecting back to the point.
"Oh man, I got some really crazy news." As the three of them walk toward the front entrance, Gabriel relays everything that had happened so far.
"Does Crowley know?" Dean questions. Gabriel just shakes his head, mouth stuffed full of cupcake. They walk through the store quickly, making their way to the back. Sam places the cupcakes near the makeshift kitchen and drops his backpack in his locker. Dean sheds his canvas jacket and and pulls a bag of M&Ms from his back pocket.
"Alfie, Gabe, Sam… are we ready?" He yells, echoing through the cavernous space. They congregate near the front cash registers. Dean tears open the bag and pours out a few M&Ms into each of their palms.
"Alright," Dean plucks a single candy from the bag, "I got a brown. Anyone got brown?" Gabe, Sam and Alfie all look at each other shaking their heads. Dean gets another candy.
"Orange." Alfie immediately holds up an orange M&M. Sam and Gabe both groan and throw their candies at him. He just flips them off with both hands and rushes over to the stereo. Alfie's music choices always vear to that screaming metal and pop punk, and today does not disappoint. He queues up Queen Sarah Saturday and a heavy guitar riff blasts through the speakers.
As Dean straightens and dust down the shelves of CDs, tapes and vinyl, Alfie sweeps wildly, singing along into the handle of the broom. Sam, technically not clocked in, works on starting a pot of coffee. Gabe's counts all the cash into the first drawer of the day and exits the count-out room. He take Dean's hand and spinning him around to the music, enroute to the cash register.
There is a sudden siren blast, a cue that the disc is being ejected, and the music is cut off. Alfie's head shoots up as he sees Gabriel at the stereo removing his CD.
"What are you doing man?" Alfie asks as he jogs toward the stereo booth.
"Exercising my veto, man," Gabe replies without looking up. Each staff member got one one chance to 'veto' someone else's song choice per day.
"Isn't it a little early?" Alfie protests. Gabe eyes him deliberately.
"Alfie, listening to shit like this is going to make you sterile." The younger man looks dejected, a pout crossing his-normally grinning face.
"Maybe I want to be sterile," he mumbles as he walks away. Gabriel just shakes his head and removes a lighter from his shirt pocket, singeing the bottom of the disc and taking it permanently out of rotation.