Chapter Text
Gabriel grunted, pushing the last desk into place. He took a step back to admire his handiwork, and then a further step back to make sure the arrangement meshed with the look of his room. Satisfied, he crossed the room to sit at his desk and proceeded to stare at the pile of teaching manuals sitting there. With a sigh, he flipped the first one open, grabbed his pen and legal pad, and started making notes. The clock read just past 10 AM, and that meant he had less than 24 hours until he met his new class.
******
Move-In Day was a shorter day, but it was also the one time during the year parents were allowed to drop their children off at the classroom. Gabriel stood just inside his classroom, shifting a little nervously and drawing a reassuring smile from his cohort across the hall. Lawrence was not a large town, by any means, which meant that it might already be spreading through the town’s gossip mills that the new Second Grade teacher had only arrived the weekend before school started. Gabriel hoped not, but his last position had left him rather depressingly acquainted with the efficiency of such things.
The arrival of several parents and students had him hopping, keeping the friendly-yet-professional smile on his face and calming the jitters in his system as he fell easily into the routine of it. He was in the middle of showing Claire and her father the cubbies the class would be using for jackets and backpacks when a slight ruckus near the door caught his attention.
“Yeah, I’m sure, ‘cause my room from last year is right down the hall!” Gabriel looked up in time to see a boy, clearly one of his students, dragging a grown man through the door. He caught a flash of shaggy brown hair before he turned back to the Novaks.
“Claire, if you want to unload your supplies that would be a big help. I’d better go see what the commotion is about over there.” Gabriel flashed the father-daughter pair a quick grin and hurried to the door.
Gabriel’s first thought was ‘Sweet zombie Jesus this guy is tall.’ And he was. The child he was accompanying looked frickin’ tiny by comparison, because a 7-year-old should, generally, reach higher than an adult’s waist.
Gabriel’s second thought was ‘If this is what it looks like and he’s a parent, I’m so fucking screwed.’ In a flash he held his hand out, smiling at the pair. “Welcome to Second Grade. Gabriel Falkenjack.”
The BFG in front of him smiled in return and shook Gabe’s proffered hand. “Sam Winchester, and this is Ben.” He gestured to the boy, and Gabe wracked his head for the class list, but only came up with one ‘Ben,’ and his last name wasn’t Winchester.
“Ben Braeden, right?” he asked the boy, and the kid just looked at him expectantly. Gabriel quirked an eyebrow, first at Ben, then at Sam the friendly giant, and Sam’s smile turned a bit sheepish.
“Yeah,” he said, ducking his head for a moment. “Ben’s dad really wanted to come today, but he’s swamped at the shop.” A quick glance at Ben showed Gabe that this was old news to the boy. “It’s, uh, it’s been a rough few months for Dean, I mean, Ben’s dad, so, uh, I’ll be helping out with this.”
Gabe nodded. “Good to meet you then, Sam, Ben.” He clapped his hands and rubbed them together. “Why don’t we get Ben’s things unpacked, and I’ll be around to answer any questions you might have about the school year or our curriculum.” Sam and Ben’s faces were a bit relieved at the change of subject, and Gabriel gave himself a mental pat on the back.
******
First order of business on the first real day of school was quite simple: proper pronunciation of Gabriel’s name.
(That is, the first order of business after the tedious daily grind of taking attendance, and, today, showing the students their seats and accepting any paperwork to be sent to the school office. Those were menial things that Gabriel deemed unworthy of his TRUE schedule, the one titled MR. FALKENJACK’S MOST AWESOME FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL SCHEDULE.)
Gabriel wrote ‘Mr. Falkenjack” on the whiteboard in big blue letters. “First question first, kiddies: what is my name?” He grinned out over the dozen little faces looking back at him from their little clusters of desks. The first cluster to his left exchanged glances with each other, and then Claire Novak tentatively raised her hand.
“Mr. Falkenjack?” she offered at Gabriel’s ‘go on’ gesture, emphasizing the ‘j’ sound. He smirked, holding up a finger.
“Close, Claire, very close.” With a flourish, Gabe turned back to the board, uncapping the marker and writing in his nicest handwriting ‘falk-en-yak’ below his name. “Falk like balk, en like pen, and jack like, well, yak. Now, repeat after me: Falkenjack.”
And, wonder of wonders, from twelve little desks came twelve little voices, each one trying its hardest to say Falkenjack. Gabriel grinned. This was going to be the best school year ever.
******
Perhaps it hadn’t been his brightest move when he’d assigned seats by literally pulling names out of a hat, but it had resulted in what was proving to be probably the most interesting dynamic Gabriel had seen since before he left home. Ben Braeden and Claire Novak seemed to be the leaders of the little group, with Junior Tucker acting almost as a lieutenant to them and supporting little Teddy Dakota. They had banded together in the first few icebreaker activities of the school year, becoming a solid team a week in when it turned out that some of the Third Graders were bullying Teddy during recess. Gabriel had been ready to intervene, but with Junior holding onto Teddy and Ben and Claire using sharp but appropriate words to bring the bullies down, there hadn’t been a need.
Gabriel had also been intrigued to discover that all four children came from single-parent, and even single-father, homes. That had been a surprise, actually. Gabe had been copying the relevant emergency information for each student into his own plan book when the pattern had started to emerge.
******
The thing Gabriel loved to do best for Parent Open House was make the parents sit at their child’s desk. This was, in part, an excuse to let the parents see just how messy their kid’s desk could get in the course of 2 weeks. The other (and if Gabe were honest with himself, primary) reason was that it was always hilarious to see grown adults trying to sit at desks designed to hold 7-year-olds.
When the giant moose of a man known as Sam Winchester walked into Gabe’s room for the second time ever, he realized that this might be even more entertaining than usual.
Once all of the adults were seated (and there were the four fathers sitting together, when the other two clusters seemed to be populated only with mothers), Gabriel took his place at the front of the room, trying not to laugh at the face Sam made every time his knees knocked against the bottom of the desk. He hardly glanced at his cheat-sheet as he gave the parents a quick rundown of the curriculum for the year and talked briefly about the major holiday parties they would be having in class. Then he mentioned the Room Parent.
“I’m new to the area, I’m sure you all know,” Gabriel said, his eyes continually scanning the room and making eye contact with all of the adults. “I’m still looking for someone to be our primary Room Parent, to help with the parties and field trips and such. If you’re interested, please feel free to talk with me or leave me a message.” He glanced at Sam Winchester then to see him exchanging looks with two of the other parents in the cluster. The man who could only be Vern Tucker was busy checking out the blonde who had pulled up a chair next to Teddy’s guardian. Interesting.
Gabriel opened the floor to questions then, talking about the grading system, what test prep would be like, and how often he would change up the seating arrangements. Of course these were the kinds of things the parents of 7-year-olds would worry about.
Sam Winchester approached Gabriel as the hoard of mothers were filing out. “Hey there, Sasquatch.” The giant’s mouth quirked upwards at the moniker. “What can I do you for?”
Sam took a deep breath, as though readying himself. “I’m, uh,” he began, licking his lips, “I’m volunteering to be Room Parent.” Gabriel’s eyebrows shot up.
“Well then! I accept,” Gabe replied with a grin. “You and I are gonna be spending a lot of time together, Moose.” ‘Fuck fuck fuck FUCK. Tall, attractive, and a helpful parent? We are so fucking SCREWED, Falkenjack.’
******
Gabriel met with Sam that Saturday for lunch at what was quickly becoming his favorite cafe-and-diner combo in town. Sam got a coffee and a grilled chicken salad while Gabe ordered a chocolate milkshake and French Toast. The raised eyebrow he got only made Gabriel smirk in return with a helpless, ‘what can you do?’ shrug.
“So, Sam,” he began once their drinks arrived. Sam sipped his coffee and looked at Gabriel expectantly. “Tell me a bit about yourself. I mean, all I really know is that you’re recently arrived in town and helping your brother raise Ben.” Gabriel leaned back in the booth, waiting.
Sam shrugged. “I just finished law school in May, out of Stanford. When Lisa died, I knew Dean wouldn’t be able to take care of Ben and himself, so I dropped everything, turned down some job offers, and came here.” His lips quirked in a smile. “It’s been good, getting to know Ben. Dean’s been working himself ragged at the shop, to get through the grief and make ends meet.”
“So you’re, what, the stay-at-home mom?” Gabe’s eyes were teasing, his tone just this side of flirting. ‘Shit, Falkenjack, better tone it down.’
Sam chuckled. “Not quite, though I might as well be. Been picking up odd jobs and part-time gigs, trying to be free in case Ben needs me.” Gabriel nodded.
“I can definitely appreciate that,” he said with a genuine smile that quickly turned mischievous. “So, do you know what you’re getting into, volunteering to be my Room Mom?”
Sam snorted. “No, not really. And don’t call me that!” he protested with a laugh. “It sounds like I’m signing up for something kinky when you do.”
“How do you know you’re not?” Gabe asked slyly with a wiggle of his eyebrows that sent Sam into a fit of laughter.
“Who the hell decided you were fit to be around children?” Sam’s question was accompanied by the remains of laughter and an easy, teasing grin which Gabe returned.
“That, my friend, is a question I’ve asked myself many times. But,” he leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table, “you realize that you’ve kinda signed up for a lot, right? We’ve got major parties at Halloween, Christmas, and Valentine’s Day, plus making sure we’re stocked for birthdays and other major events and possibly helping in the room for days when I need to get reading assessments done.”
Sam shrugged, looking utterly unconcerned as he cupped his coffee mug in his hands. “I’m sure arranging parties for 8-year-olds is a lot less complicated than arranging parties for Pre-Law Society. Besides, I’m usually free during the day to run those kinds of errands.” He grinned for a moment. “I wouldn’t necessarily be available at a moment’s notice, but we can definitely plan out days for me to be there, and I’ll make sure I don’t take any jobs then.”
Gabe just stared at Sam with wide eyes and a gaping mouth. “You’re serious?” he asked. “I could have you at my beck and call and you’re okay with that?” Sam shrugged again.
“It’s not entirely altruistic. Making sure everything’s running smoothly in your classroom means Ben’s going to like school, which means one less thing for Dean to fret over and a calmer household for me.”
Gabriel felt his grin return slowly. “You, Sam Winchester, are a devious, devious man. This, I think, is the beginning of a beautiful friendship,” he said with a salacious wink as the waitress arrived with their food.