ask emma 9

anonymous asked:

Sabriel #9???

Thank you nonnie! I’ve never written Sabriel before, so this was fun! Written for the prompt “Whatever it is, I didn’t do it.”

The bakery on 42nd always smells amazing whenever Sam passes by with Jo. It’s always difficult to resist temptation when they’re working, but pastry runs are limited to the mornings only, otherwise every cop within a five mile radius would be at “Little Slice of Heaven” more often than they really should, and more than half of the Kansas City police force would fail their fitness testing.

It’s not that the Kansas City police are particularly weak-willed in their resistance to sugary, baked goods. It’s just that everything that comes out of this particular bakery tastes absolutely incredible.

But for Sam Winchester, there’s another reason that he likes visiting the bakery. It’s the reason why he always volunteers to go on the morning pastry run, and the reason why Jo gives him a sideways look and a “go get ‘em, tiger,” as he steps down from the police-issued SUV.

When Sam walks through the door, his arrival announced by the little electronic ‘bell’ that wolf-whistles every time someone enters or exits, he finds the store’s owner already sliding trays of fresh donuts into the display racks. When he hears the wolf-whistle, the man looks up, and when he sees Sam, his constant little half-smile becomes a wide, radiant grin.

“Whatever it is, I didn’t do it,” Gabriel protests, raising his hands in mock surrender. It’s the same every morning, and it never fails to make Sam smile, despite the nerves pooling in his stomach today.

“Sure thing, Gabe,” Sam teases, and Gabriel’s lips lift into a smirk. “I definitely hope you’re clean, because I think a lot of people would be disappointed if this place had to close down.”

Gabriel winks at Sam as he slides the glass door of the display case closed and leans his elbows on the counter. “Trust me, Officer Winchester,” he says, his voice playful and sultry, “I can be a dirty boy.”

Sam nearly chokes on his tongue. Gabe merely grins as Sam splutters and turns pink and searches for words, looking quite pleased with himself.

“I didn’t mean—You—I…” It takes Sam a few seconds to completely compose himself, and he scrubs a hand over his face, then pushes his fingers back through his long hair. Damn it, this is not going how he’d wanted it to.

“About that,” he begins – Gabe quirks an amused eyebrow, and Sam curses under his breath. “Not like that, Gabe, I –“ Why is this so difficult? He forces himself to take a deep breath, unable to believe that he’s more nervous right now than he has been at work, dealing with criminals.

When he looks back down at Gabe, however, the man’s expression has softened a little bit, his caramel-coloured gaze gentle and fixed on Sam. It gives him the courage to say what he’s been wanting to say for a while now.

“Do you want to get dinner with me? As a date?”

He’s definitely not holding his breath as he awaits Gabriel’s answer, watching the man’s slow smile.

He’s definitely not expecting Gabe to reach across the counter and grab the front of his police vest, pulling him down for a kiss in the middle of the bakery, in front of the few other patrons who have dropped in so early.

But he’s definitely not complaining.

The kiss is reasonably quick and relatively chaste – the only reason for that being that Gabriel would rather not drive away his customers with lewd displays of affection, Sam figures – and when they pull apart, Sam’s cheeks are warm and he knows he’s blushing. Gabriel, for his part, just grins, reaching for his notebook and scribbling his number onto the top piece of paper.

He winks at Sam as he folds it in half and reaches over to tuck it into Sam’s breast pocket.

“I thought you’d never ask.”