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I'm DB Cooper, I'm a Mystery Man, Give Me a Bourbon

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Gabriel knew that when he walked into the Men of Letters library and saw his boyfriend surrounded by books, legal pads, his laptop, and a giant map on an easel, that Sam Winchester was elbow deep in an unsolved case.

This was a familiar routine. About once a week, hunt withstanding, Gabriel would find Sam in the library, with the same exact scene he is seeing today (different maps, books, and stuff, however) and he would just sigh. He loved this about his boyfriend, that the man who hunted the things that go bump in the night would also want to solve some of America’s greatest crimes. Or the world’s, in some cases.

Gabriel helps when he can. He doesn’t know all of the world’s mysteries, which meant that Sam nearly cried when he asked Gabriel who Jack the Ripper was, and Gabriel had to admit he didn’t know, because he was in China, trying to fuck things up (to no avail). However, some, he can.

“Oh, the Black Dahlia. Poor woman. Dr. George Hodel definitely murdered her. The bastard. Good thing his son’s on the case.”

“The Zodiac? Pfft. Arthur Leigh Allen. Duh. Robert Graysmith was the fucking man. His books make an excellent case. The Paul Stine murder was a copycat by Lawrence Kane, and Allen took credit for it because that’s what serial killers do.”

“Lizzie Borden did not murder her family. Check out her illegitimate half-brother, William Borden.”

“There’s no mention of a William Borden. Who was he?”

Legally, he was Andrew’s cousin. He was actually his bastard son. Even if Bridget helped Lizzie put on a fresh dress because they helped each other murder those two, there wouldn’t have been time. William’s alibi is flimsier than Morse’s, and that’s saying something, ‘cause Morse’s is fucking pitiful.”  

“The boy in the box? Sammich, that’s a ridiculously sad case. Unfortunately, I wasn’t in America at the time, I was in Sweden once again. But I remember it. Terrifyingly sad.”

So when Gabriel walked in and saw Sam in full research mode, he just said, “What’s today’s case, Samshine?”

Sam looked up, the wild look of a case in his eyes. “D.B. Cooper. Do you know how difficult it would be for me, a legally dead man, to file a FOIA request?”

Gabriel stared at Sam and began cracking up laughing. He couldn’t help it.

Sam looked at Gabriel as though Gabriel had lost his marbles. Which wasn’t an unfamiliar look.

“Sorry,” Gabriel chuckled, wiping a tear from his eye. “I just. . . I’m so glad that this is a case you’re working on.”

Sam brightened. “Really? Does that mean you know who did it?” he asked excitedly.

“I do,” Gabriel said. “You’re looking at him.”

Sam stared at Gabriel, then squinted, then scowled. “You’re pulling my leg,” he said.

“I’d much rather be pulling something else,” Gabriel drawled, smirking as he saw Sam flush. “But no, I’m not joking. I am one hundred percent Dan Cooper.”

Sam shook his head and cocked his head at his boyfriend. “Okay, I got to hear this,” he said, sitting down.

“I’m not being interrogated, right?” Gabriel grinned. “I’m just telling a tale.”

“Just telling a tale,” Sam agreed. “Attorney-client privilege.”

“Sam, you can’t whip that out, you’re not licensed,” Gabriel teased.

Sam shrugged. “Can you blame me for trying?” he asked.

Gabriel laughed. “Alright. Let me spin you this yarn.” He leaned back in his seat and began to talk.


Two days before the hijacking, I possessed a man named Dan Cooper. Yes, that was his actual name, Samba. And I was a little bored. Okay, a lot bored-


“Wait,” Sam stopped Gabriel. “You committed one of the biggest crimes in America, which sparked a 45 year long federal investigation, because you were bored?

“Yes,” Gabriel said simply. “What? It was fun!”

Sam rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Alright, continue.”

“Thank you,” Gabriel said.


Okay. I was a lot bored. And I wanted to jazz up America with something salacious. Hollywood scandals are only so entertaining for so long. And I wanted to do something big.

So on November 24, 1971, I decided to jump out of a plane. Never had done so, so why not? And then I upped the stakes to make it a hijacking. So I made a bomb. It wasn’t actually that big of a bomb, nor was it the kind with explosives. Those ‘red sticks’ everyone thought was dynamite? Springloaded with glitter and confetti. I made it look all professional, dressed him up with clothes I found at a random JC Penny’s, and managed to find a home in Portland. I selected a random airline and flight- Northwest Orient Airlines, Flight 305 was a completely random decision- and purchased my ticket. I do wish that plane tickets were still twenty bucks for a one way flight.

I boarded the plane with my briefcase and a paper bag and realized that I was really going to do something completely ridiculous and criminal and began beaming happily. But I wanted to remain calm, cool, collected. I ordered a bourbon and soda to keep up my ‘cool guy appearance’, and lit up a cigarette.


“You hate bourbon,” Sam said.

“I know,” Gabriel said, “But I wanted this to be memorable and didn’t want it to be like ‘Dan Cooper ordered a Cosmopolitan’. That’s utterly distasteful. And considering everything else? I needed to do that.”

“Okay,” Sam agreed, “Fair. But, you also hate smoking.”

“Tryin’ to blend in, Sammallama,” Gabriel shrugged. “Took me three weeks to scrub the nicotine out of my mouth but it was well worth it.”


As the plane taxi’d and took off, my excitement continued to grow but I drank my bourbon and wrote the note for the flight attendant. She was a cute little thing, I’ll be honest. Most flight attendants are. Just facts.

So she came by my seat and I handed her the note. She put it into her pocket. She probably thought it was my phone number, or a risky rendez-vous note that said ‘can we join the Mile High Club in the bathroom?’ I don’t know. I don’t care. I just knew she had to look at that note on the double, and did probably the stupidest thing for this.

‘Miss,’ I mentioned- in a whisper, I should add. ‘You might want to look at that note. I’ve got a bomb.’

She looked surprised that I would announce that in such a cavalier tone. She looked at the note and nodded, sitting down next to me. I showed her the ‘bomb’ and she just swallowed and nodded. Smiling to myself, I handed her a pen and paper before dictating what I wanted her to write down and take to the captain. Two hundred thousand dollars, exclusively in twenty dollar bills, in a knapsack. Two front parachutes and two back parachutes. Fuel truck at the Seattle airport so we could refuel. And then, just for shits and giggles, I ended it with ‘No funny stuff, or I’ll do the job’.


“I always kind of liked that,” Sam interjected. “Kind of like ominous but ‘the job’ could really mean anything.”

“Exactly,” Gabriel said. “It just came out of me, but I really liked the way it sounded.”

Sam grinned. “You always did have the flair for the dramatics.”

“And I don’t do things half-assed,” Gabriel grinned.

“No, you certainly don’t,” Sam chuckled. “Please, continue. This is fascinating.”


The flight attendant nodded and took the note to the captain that she had written, while I took back the note I had written. I continued to sip my bourbon and soda, and I could feel the rising tension from the other passengers, although they were told that we would be landing in Seattle behind schedule due to technical difficulties. It was exciting. I knew I was going to confuse them and wow them.

We ended up circling Puget Sound for about two hours, no doubt allowing the authorities time to gather the money, parachutes and to prepare the fuel trucks. I had slipped on my pair of dark wrap around sunglasses by this point- you know the ones. While this happened, I ordered another bourbon, paid my tab, attempted to charm the flight attendant into keeping the change, and offered to pay for the flight crew’s meals.


“That was considerate of you,” Sam noted.

“I’m an asshole,” Gabriel shrugged, “But we were going to be flying a long time, and I know humans get hungry. And when humans get hungry, they get cranky.”

We landed in Seattle a short time later. I instructed the pilot to taxi to a brightly lit, isolated part of the airport and asked for the shades to be drawn. I knew snipers couldn’t hurt me, but there were other people on board, and they could have gotten hurt. The feds tried to come aboard, but the captain mentioned that there was a bomb on board and asked me how I’d like to proceed. I mentioned I’d exchange the passengers and crew on the flight, save for the captain, the copilot, and a flight attendant or two, for the money, parachutes and the refueling. I tasked with the first flight attendant with grabbing the knapsack and the parachutes. She returned with them and I kept my word. The passengers and a senior flight attendant filed off while I stayed on, pleased that my scheme was going so well. Once they were off, the captain approached me and asked me where I’d like to go after the plane refueled.

I didn’t initially have a destination in mind, I’ll admit. I hadn’t thought quite that far, so to speak. So I just said the first city that fell out of my mouth.

“Mexico City.”


“You just blurted out the first city that came to mind?” Sam asked incredulously.

“Yeah, pretty much,” Gabriel chuckled as he gave a half shrug. “Are you surprised?”

“Yes,” Sam said. “This has always seemed so meticulously planned and well thought out up until you jumped out of the airplane.

Gabriel grinned. “Nah, Samshine. This was all me making shit up as I went along.”


Mexico City. I wanted them flying at the lowest speed possible that would stall the plane, flying no higher than ten thousand feet, with the landing gear deployed, the wing flaps lowered fifteen degrees, and that the cabin remain unpressurized. The copilot mentioned that there would need to be a second refueling. We discussed this as a second tank began refueling- the first one had a vapor lock issue, and then a third came after the second ran dry. We decided that Reno, Nevada was where the second refueling would happen. It accelerated my plans, sure, but that was a part of the fun.

We took off sometime after dark, after a debate on whether or not the aft staircase could remain deployed during take off.


“You had to have known that you would be followed,” Sam said.

“Oh, yeah. The Air Force base for Seattle at the time? Twenty minutes away from the airport. They deployed guys, I was a federal criminal,” Gabriel snorted. “But seriously, as fantastic as the United States military is, do you really think that they’re any match for me?

“Is the ‘me’ you’re referring to the archangel or the pagan god?” Sam asked cheekily. “Because Gabriel the archangel? Nah, they’re not a match. Loki the pagan god? Mmmm, they could be.”

Gabriel stared at Sam while Sam sat there with a grin on his face, trying not to laugh at the look of insult on his boyfriend’s face.

“I think we’re going to need to do a pagan sex sacrifice for you to understand not to fuck with Loki,” Gabriel mentioned.

Sam laughed. “I’m teasing,” he said.

“Oh, Samfuck,” Gabriel said with a growl, eyes darkened and glittering, “I will give you the true meaning of teasing.”

Sam’s eyes widened in arousal, and he swallowed. Oh, Gabriel was going to need to set up an altar to Loki for this. He was going to enjoy this immensely.

“Back to my escapade as Dan Cooper,” he said calmly.


The plane took off. I asked the flight attendant to return to the cockpit and keep the door closed. Once she had complied, I ripped open one of the parachutes and just basically fucked around with it. I cut the shroud lines and tied them around my waist. I left the clip on tie-



“I did,” Gabriel replied.

“This is coming from the archangel who doesn’t see the practical need for a clip on tie when you are choked on a daily basis and insisted that I learn about thirty different ways to tie a fucking tie around my neck!” Sam threw his hands up in the air, papers scattering everywhere. “And you wore a clip on tie to jump out of a goddamn airplane, when if you get choked, you can just snippity snappity the fuck out of the situation and they would be left with nothing but confusion and a resounding headache!!”

Gabriel had to admit that Sam had a point. “But-”

“NO BUTS!” Sam pointed a finger at Gabriel. “‘Do you think James Bond ever wore clip ons, Samwise? No, he didn’t. So you don’t get to either.’ Those were your exact words.”

Damn Sam and his amazing recall. “It was the fashion at the time,” Gabriel said.

Sam huffed.

“Do you want me to finish my story or not?” Gabriel asked.

“I do,” Sam grumbled. “Fuckin’ clip on tie .”


I took off the clip on tie, the tie pin, and left an unidentified object on the plane, and if you’re a real good boy, Samdamn, I’ll tell you what it was at the end of this tale. I hauled the knapsack onto my back and made my way to the back of the plane. I deployed the back exit. Comments came over the intercom, but I ignored them. I waited until the staircase had fallen down. I walked down the stairs, and jumped off into the cloud cover. And then I snapped away.

The name DB came about because they did find a DB Cooper in Portland that could’ve committed the crime, but it wasn’t the guy I possessed. No, he ended up not being able to hold me, which was fine. Guy’s drinking whiskey and eating Reubens up in Heaven now. They mixed up Dan Cooper with DB Cooper, which is why it’s now known as the DB Cooper case, not the Dan Cooper case.

I dropped some of the money, which is kind of natural- and yes, I did plan for about $5,500 to be dropped. The idea was to drop the money so it could find its way to people in need. However, the FBI released the serial numbers of the bills, so that didn’t work out as well, but I wanted to give back too. I think more of the bills were actually found, but no one made a damn sound because hey, even suspicious, possibly stolen money will pay the bills better than no money at all.

They haven’t found a lot pertaining to that case, although I pretty much made sure that there would be a lot to go on.


“Okay, so before I ask about the unidentified object on the plane,” Sam said. “What about the rare earth elements and the pure, unalloyed titantium found on your fucking clip on tie ?”

“Oh, that?” Gabriel scoffed. “You mean the cerium and the stronium sulfide that was found as well? Yeah, the tie picked up a lot of the stuff I already had on me. They managed to get a partial DNA profile off the tie as well, but, ya know. I’m not really in any database.”

“I am,” Sam grumbled.

“Sorry about that, Samshit,” Gabriel said affectionately.

Sam huffed and smiled, shaking his head. “So you committed one of the greatest hijackings in US history on a bored whim,” he said.

“I did,” Gabriel said. “I’ll admit, it was fun being tall.”

“Five foot ten is not tall,” Sam laughed.

“Well, not to giant moose men like you,” Gabriel snarked. “I swear, your mother had Miracle Grow in her milk to make you grow like you did.”

Sam snorted and shook his head. “Besides, Gabe? You would’ve only been, at maximum, two inches taller than you are now.”

Gabriel shrugged. “Two inches can make all the difference in the world, you know,” he said.

Sam looked down at the table between them, his mouth quirking up into a smile. “Oh, it definitely does,” he said.

Sammoose! ” Gabriel gasped, pretending to be shocked by his boyfriend’s rare moment of being forwardly sexual. “Well, I’d never.

“Was he bigger than Loki?” Sam asked casually.

“Nah, maybe an inch smaller,” Gabriel said, scruffing at the beard starting to peak through on his face.

“So, what was the unidentified object?” Sam asked.

Gabriel smirked. “You would like to know, wouldn’t you?”


Oh no. Sam was casting the puppy dog eyes of shame at him. He wasn’t immune to that look. Far from it. He’s certain not even God Himself wasn’t immune. Amara? Probably. God? No. Samuel Winchester could make God himself beg for salvation with those eyes.

Damn those eyes.

“You’re a brat, you know that?” Gabriel mentioned.

Sam huffed a laugh, his eyes still open and soft. He wet his lips with his tongue. “Please tell me?”

“Fine.” Gabriel smirked. “It was a gold, glittery kazoo.”

Sam blinked. “Are you fucking kidding me?

Gabriel laughed. “I literally left a replica of the Horn of Gabriel on the plane.”

“I am going to tar and feather you,” Sam groaned, resting his head on the cool desk in front of him.

“Aaww,” Gabriel reached over and ran his fingers through Sam’s hair. “There, there, baby boy. It’s okay.”

“I still can’t believe you extorted the United States government out of what is. . .” Sam lifted his head and began rummaging through papers and legal pads to find the information he was looking for. “Over a million dollars in today’s currency on a bored whim.”

Gabriel shrugged.

“You were originally an air pirate, and now you’ve been accused of violating the Hobbs Act.” Sam continued these facts, as though Gabriel was unaware of them. “Because the air piracy charge has a five year statute of limitations, but the Hobbs Act does not.”

“Yes, I’d like to see you, a legally dead man, try to turn me in as DB Cooper to the FBI,” Gabriel drawled.

“I love where your mind goes, but it wasn’t to that,” Sam snorted.

“I also proved it could be done,” Gabriel said.

“And then universal luggage searches began two years later,” Sam said with a shrug.

Gabriel grinned. “I love discussing these old cases with you,” he said.

“I still can’t believe you’re Dan Bloody Cooper,” Sam said. “I mean, seriously, what are the odds?”

“Oh, Sammy,” Gabriel got up and walked around the table to slide into Sam’s lap. “Don’t ask me about the odds. So how about it? Want to jump out of a plane together sometime?”

Sam laughed and cupped Gabriel’s face. “I’d rather join the Mile High Club with you, Mr. Cooper.”

Gabriel laughed and leaned in to kiss Sam sweetly. “Please, call me Gabriel,” he murmured. “Dan Cooper was just a simple man whom, with some help by yours truly, created an enduring mystery.”

Sam gave a low, rough laugh. “Over a thousand suspects and they never got you,” he murmured. “Sixty volumes, 45 year investigation. Helluva legacy.”

Gabriel smirked. “Just doing my best to uplift the small folk in the world,” he said. “And I mean those who need help, not those who are shorter than me.”

“Is anyone shorter than you?” Sam teased.”

“Oh shut up, and kiss this crooked angel,” Gabriel laughed.

“Now that, I can do,” Sam smiled, kissing Gabriel sweetly. And as Sam’s body sank with the knowledge that another case was solved for him, Gabriel smiled and deepened the kiss.

He wondered if Sam would be up to a little FBI Agent-criminal role play.