AN: It came to my attention I did not put a disclaimer in the first chapter. I apologize; I'm used to just writing on my computer and not bothering to put it in until I have to post the document. So here it is:
I don't own Supernatural.
300 Years Later, Stanford, California
"Of course, Balthazar," Gemma smiled into the phone. "Got it. Yes, I know not to lose my temper. I remember perfectly well what happened last time."
"Love, you blew up a bathouse and the steam boiled the mud monkeys around it in their pasty little skins," Balthazar snarked. "Do you? We couldn't go back to that area of England for years."
"It wasn't that much of a loss, was it?" she pouted.
"Not at all, but the fact remains that your type of destruction is a bit harder to disguise these days. Nothing like when you were born, which we can count ourselves lucky for."
"Very true." Gemma winced remembering the early days when the Angel had tried to teach her to control her powers- she had incinerated countless items and, to her fleeting guilt, more than a few humans she had accidentally touched in the filthy, crowded streets of the medieval era. Her pretty little flames had only been a light show compared to her full powers, though they were still deadly and rather intimidating. "You can get here in seconds, though; and it isn't like this is the first time I've gone off to college, is it?"
"Yeah." Balthazar's tone was curt. He understood her want for knowledge; in the time period she had been born in women were regarded as less than men- much less- and she hadn't been able to read or write, much less know anything that was common knowledge in the 1900's and the new 2000's.
Her sharp silver eyes followed the passing line of other new students, and narrowed at one blond male. "Hey, Balthy..." she crooned lowly, running her thumb along the edges of her smooth nails. "Are demons acceptable prey?"
"Gemma..." he started, and then stopped. "Most definitely. As long as the meatsuit won't be overly missed and the demon isn't Crowley. You know I like that one."
"Thank you. Bye-bye now." She pressed the red button on the touch screen of her smartphone, and stood as she slipped it into her pocket. Gemma pulled her long ponytail around to hang down her left shoulder, and tossed a five-dollar paper bill on the little glass coffee table.
The little metal bell on the door jingled as she slipped outside into the sunlight and joined the chattering teenagers. Most of them she ignored or sneered at; she had no respect for those here on their daddy's or mommy's money, and the ones that were were obvious. At least to her, anyway; most that looked her age wouldn't notice the signs unless they were trained to from a young age. Like, she mused, looking at the confused-seeming boy that the demon was sweettalking, him. That one moved like predator, not prey.
Interesting.
She navigated her way through the crowd, touching the humans around her as little as possible. While she had full control over herself and her flames she still wasn't exactly fond of contact unless it was from someone she trusted (Read: Balthazar, though Crowley would occasionally pat her shoulder or back and she didn't really mind). It reminded her too much of her early years, before she burned down her town and Balthazar found her.
Gemma adjusted the straps on her backpack and flipped her wrist to check the time-
9:37 A.M.
Everyone had to check in by eleven, or they would risk losing their rooms in the dorms to other students who wanted to switch places. "Hey," she greeted amiably as she slipped up beside the two men and held out her hand. "I couldn't help but overhear- you two are both in pre-law?" She could, actually. Help to overhear that is. But the demon was already attaching himself to this human, and Balthazar had always told her to be careful, to find out all of the details first.
The blond eyed her for a moment, before smiling widely and shaking her hand happily. "Yeah. I'm Brady, this is Sam. What's your name?"
She shook Sam's hand as well, noting the size, strength, and many calluses. "I'm Gemma," she tucked some stray copper-brown hair behind her ear, and her smile widened. "Gemma Fenix. I'm in pre-law too, and I was wondering if maybe we could keep in contact and possibly study together. I'm from England, so I don't exactly know anyone here yet." That explained her accent, and she wouldn't have to worry about 'slipping' into another European language to keep them from getting suspicious.
Sam smiled slightly, and nodded. "Yeah, that makes sense. Brady? What do you think?"
"A wonderful idea," 'Brady' clapped his hands together, and pulled out a flip phone. "What's your number?"
Gemma rattled off the digits, watching to make sure that they both typed them in right, and unlocked her own smartphone by pressing her thumb to the screen and swiping it upwards. "What about you two?" she questioned. "Numbers?"
Sam gave her his, and she quickly tapped the correct numbers in. She only had three contacts including these two- Balthazar's cell was the other, under 'Bal' in case someone took her phone and looked through them. Brady recited his number next, and she smiled up at them both- up, because after her powers had fully manifested when she burnt down the village she grew up in she had barely grown in height; her features had only slightly matured. Downsides to being immortal, she supposed. Balthazar had laughed at her numerous times when she complained.
Gemma shifted her large backpack again as she walked, unused to the weight of the many books and supplies. What would a demon want with Sam? Other than the whole fighter-vibe he gave off, he seemed normal enough.
Unless... no. Fuck. She slapped her forehead, and gave the two walking beside her a sheepish grin when they raised their eyebrows at her. "I just remembered something," she explained quickly, and pulled out her phone again, opening a new message to Balthazar and loving autocorrect, even if it was a bitch sometimes.
Hey Balthy. Do you happen to know where the vessels are? -G
She slid her hand back into her jeans pocket, keeping it wrapped around the smooth shell of the smartphone.
During the wait for a reply they arrived at the line to the check-in desk, and that involved standing still. Gemma was never good at that; she couldn't go more than ten seconds without at least twitching. Balthazar had said it was part of being what she was; a birdlike trait. If she had been in her true form and not restricted to her human body she would busy herself with grooming her feathers with her nicely curved beak, but she wasn't, so she couldn't.
So instead she pouted, and turned to stare up at the glorious, bright sun. Her view was unobstructed by the thin, ragged clouds drifting across the deep blue sky, and she smiled. The Sun had always brought her comfort, even if she hadn't known why at first.
Her phone buzzed, and she quickly scrolled through the reply-
What did you get yourself into this time, love? I'm reasonably sure they're off being violent apes, like all of their ancestors were.
Check for me. Please. -G
There. Gemma dropped the phone into her pocket, and stepped forward to hand over the appropriate identification that had been helpfully faked by one of Balthazar's contacts. The Angel knew how to make good business associates, that was for sure. Even if he usually pissed them off rather quickly.
She smiled politely at the receptionist, and then walked back to a free area to wait for Sam and 'Brady'. Balthazar's text arrived a minute later, while she was watching Sam haggle with the lady at the desk over his papers or something. Eventually- luckily- they were apparently approved, because the barely-teen's dark hazel eyes soon landed on her where she was waiting. She waved him over, and opened the message.
They've split up. Tell me, darling, that you haven't found yourself one. They'll bring nothing but trouble.
Oh, I know. But I like trouble, Balthy, and Sam's already got a demon hanging around him. I, for one, don't like the sound of them getting their filthy claws into him. -G
"Hey Sam," she said, smiling up at the freakishly tall human. He didn't seem too bad for one of the 'mud monkeys', as Balthazar called them. Though appearances could be deceiving, and Hunters had to be able to lie. She knew that there was muscle under the faded flannel, strength coiled and trained from a young age to fight and kill with or without weapons. "Hey, Brady," she greeted when the second man jogged up to them. "I'm going to go find my dorm. See you when class starts, alright?"
With that she waved goodbye, and turned on her heel.
Lucifer's Vessel? Gemma, if that ape harms a single feather of yours I'll smite him, regardless of the attention that'll bring. I know how to cover my tracks.
Don't be so violent, Balthy. -G
We could stop the problem before it even begins. You wouldn't have to put extra energy into your warding, Crowley will probably help me stop it because he doesn't want to be an Archangel's lapdog, and you know I can go blade to blade with any but the Archs. You taught me. And the damned Colt is the only thing that can kill me permanently. Which has been lost for years. -G
If you get yourself trapped, I won't get you out.
Of course you would, Balthy. Don't lie, it's very un-Angelic. But then again so is being a promiscuous clubber with a penchant for good champagne. Which you are. -G
Your accusations wound me, sweetheart.
That was the only reply. By the fact that she wasn't being swept away and that he wasn't protesting more, she decided her argument had been successful, and put the phone away. Her gait swung outward a bit, and she pursed her lips, exhaling a small plume of thin smoke that had accumulated in her lungs.
As she sauntered away with a smirk on her lips, she idly realized she should buy some cigarettes. They were good fuel, she didn't need a lighter to smoke them, and the tobacco tasted appealing. Pity really, all the things they put in them nowadays. It detracted from the taste.