WIP meme, take 2.

Tagging myself, like a boss!

1. Go to page 77 (or 7) of your current ms.
2. Go to line 7
3. Copy down the next 7 lines – sentences or paragraphs – and post them as they’re written.
4. Tag 7 other authors. If you would like to do this meme, consider yourself tagged!

Because this WIP started off in a whirlwind of typing, reaching 10k in next to no time... and then fizzled horribly. Which is unacceptable. So I shall use this meme to poke at it with the proverbial pointy stick. The original plan was to make it a Sam/Gabriel fic, although the slash seems a long way off still. Also includes Dean/Castiel, but so far mostly cracky. Which is okay. (Also, lol! The section below turned out to be one of the best bits. Win.)

..............

Gabriel was shaking the hand he touched Sam with, as if he really did touch a live wire, and quirked a displeased eyebrow at Dean. “Seriously, would it kill you to ask nicely every once in a while?”

 

“Pretty please, with a fuck you on top?” Dean quipped, his lips tight with annoyance.

 

“You better hope I never take you up on that, handsome,” Gabriel countered. This prompted Castiel into speech.

 

“Gabriel, please,” he said, sounding more like a mother gently scolding a child, than a brother asking for help. It did seem to have the desired effect of cooling the tempers and Gabriel eventually sat down, snapped himself up a candy bar and explained.

 

“Well, kids. It would seem we've hit a bit of a snag with Pestilence.”

 

Dean blinked. “Wait, I thought he was gone.”

 

“He is. If not forever, then at least for the next couple of centuries. But apparently the sucker went out with a bang,” Gabriel replied, unconcerned. When Dean started making impatient hand gestures, Gabriel rolled his eyes and continued. “It would seem his last act in this life was to make me contagious.”

.............

Dun dun duuuuun!