Well Well Well Welcome To Hell

Close Call

Gabriel had just finished on the stage. Sam watched him from the bar as he did a few lap dances. Lately it had been a little rough for the incubus. Demons thought they could just do whatever they wanted. Gabriel let it slide most of the time to guarantee he still got paid. Sam hadn't realized how bad it had gotten until he saw Gabriel get kicked out of a speeding car. He'd pulled a knife on eight demons, trying to fight back. Gabriel refused to talk about it. Sam allowed him to carry a gun wherever he went now.

It wasn't the first assault. There were other big incidents. In the past Gabriel had stabbed two customers, and pulled a knife on plenty more. Sam knew there was a lot more that he didn't know about, and that most of the time they were allowed to do it. It had been slowly eating away at the incubus. He was more jumpy and irritable, Sam had even heard a few threats from him. He was very quick to show he had a weapon and could kill in an instant. The complaints were coming in very quickly now. But Sam didn't say anything. Normally he would've, but he knows what he's gone through, and you can't blame someone for taking shit until they've reached their limit and then sticking up for themselves. He's earned it. Sam couldn't really remember a time when Gabriel hadn't been working for him. He was loyal and stuck by his side no matter what.

Sam laughed to himself, getting a lot of strange looks. He had forgotten Gabriel's 'habit'. When a client was being 'a dick' as Gabriel would put it, he'd 'break their dick'. They had to have a serious talk about that one. The incubus eventually stopped doing it. Sam shook his head, smiling at the thought.

Gabriel walked sashayed over to the bar, leaning over it on his elbows. The one demon who was actually sitting at the bar slapped his ass. Gabriel looked at him quickly with red glowing eyes. He gave a pointed toothed grin. "Do you wanna take this somewhere else, hot stuff?" He spun the stool, so the demon looked at him. Gabriel draped his arms around the demon's neck. He slammed his heel right between his legs, making the demon jump. "Shhh.." Gabriel whispered, leaning forward. He ran his thumb over the demon's bottom lip, licking his lips as he did so. He hummed, moving closer, smiling softly, until their lips were almost touching.

Gabriel quickly brought his head back and slammed it into the demon's nose resulting in a loud cracking sound. At the same time he pulled out his gun that had been strapped to his ankle. The demon held his nose, the blood streaming down his face. "What the fuck, you whore-" He stopped at a clicking sound and cold metal against his forehead. The demon looked up at the silver Derringer.

He laughed. "Ha! I bet that's not even loaded."

Gabriel gave a shit eating grin. "Okay~" He pushed the gun into his head. "Let's play roulette, you go first."

Sam shook his head, drying one of the glasses with a rag. "Gabe." He said, hiding his smile as he looked down.

"Sorry, Boss."

"That's right listen to daddy." Gabriel's grip on the gun tightened. "Fucking slut."

Sam jumped forward, reaching out over the counter, pushing the gun as far as could right before Gabriel pulled the trigger. He was short, so it fired less than an inch from the side of the demon's head. Sam sighed a breath of relief. "Fucking shit, Gabe! I said no firing guns in the club!"

Gabriel sighed out of frustration, storming off. "You better take care of that." The demon said.

Sam looked at him. "Get out."

"What?! But I-"

"I said get out."

"Fine!" The demon stomped out the doors.

"I'm gonna kill someone today." Sam growled.

A few minutes later Gabriel came out from the back, dressed in his 'casual clothes'. He wore a white cropped Polo tee, and a black brace skirt, with long black socks that stopped just above his knees with white two whit stripes at the top, and bright red pencil heels. "I'm going!" He called as he went up to the doors.

"Where are you going?" Sam asked, arms crossed.

"Out." And with that he left.

Sam rested his elbows on the the bar, putting his face in his hands and groaning.