Mr Fizzles: Harbinger of Doom
Sep. 26th, 2014 10:29 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
majestic_duxkTitle: Mr Fizzles: Harbinger of Doom
Pairing: Ash/Garth
other characters: Sam, Dean
Fandom: Supernatural
warnings and kinks: attempted humour, crack
rating: G
story length: approx 1440
Summary: Garth is sent to ask Ash to track some demon activity. Something worse is unleashed on the hunting world.
a/n: as soon as I saw the Ash/Garth pairing, I knew I wanted to try it. These are actually both characters that I really like, although I haven’t really thought much about them… So I don’t have their voices down, but this is my effort for the SPN pairings bingo
--
“And hurry up, goddamnit!”
Dean threw down the phone after leaving yet another message. It probably wasn’t fair to take it out on Garth, but goddamit! Ash was taking too long, so Dean sent Garth to talk to him. To speed up the fucking process. It wasn’t like Garth hadn’t been in the area, and Dean figured that Ash might take note of a human messenger. That had been two days ago. What the fuck where they up to?
The sharp ping of a message received broke through Dean’s thoughts.
“About freaking time,” he grumbled. Maybe he’d have to go himself next time. Whatever. It was here now.
Email sent, Garth confirmed. Dean clicked on the email, impatiently waiting for it to open. Then stopped and stared, unable to take his eyes from the screen.
Really, when he thought about it? This was his own fault. Dean should have known it would not go well. Individually, two great guys. But the meeting of the two? Like… like oil and water for the rest of humanity. Nitro and glycerin. And angel and an angel knife. A…
“Dean? Are you ok?”
Sam’s face swam into focus. Dean blinked.
“You’ve been sitting there for ten minutes. Didn’t even respond to the pie stimulus. Everything ok?”
Sam didn’t look worried enough.
“It’s worse than the apocalypse.”
Sam looked skeptical. Dean swung the computer around to face him…
--
“And what brings you here?”
Garth swallowed nervously. Women in general made him nervous. Women who stared at him down the barrel of a shotgun made him even more nervous.
“Ah. I’m Garth and…”
“I didn’t ask who you were,” she interrupted. “I asked what brings you here.”
“Ash?” Garth could hear the question in his voice. So could shotgun lady.
“Ash?” She raised her voice. “Are you expecting anyone?”
“No sirrreeeeee. Can’t say I am.”
Garth turned. A small man with a lot of blonde hair had been sleeping on the pool table. It really was a lot of hair.
“I like your hair,” he offered.
Ash blinked at him. “But I am now! Put the gun down, Ellen. This is obviously a man who knows good things when he sees them.”
Garth turned again. “You’re Ellen? You’re much younger than I expected!”
Ellen’s finger tightened on the shotgun. “Who’ve you been talkin’ to?”
Garth had an unfortunate blank. This was it. He was going to die because he couldn’t remember the name of Sam and Dean…
“Winchester! Sam and Dean Winchester!”
Garth sent a relieved smile in Ellen’s direction. Ellen didn’t return it.
Ash, however, deemed this a suitable introduction.
“Well then! I am pleased to make your acquaintance. So… if they said Ellen looked old,” Ash blithely ignored the k-chack of the shotgun being primed, “What did they say about me?”
“Oh, that you were super with computers, and you looked like an 80s glam rocker. Which you do!” he hurried to reassure Ash. “It’s a very good look on you!”
“It is magnificent isn’t it?”
Garth was nodding before Ash was finished. “It really is! Do you style it often?”
Ellen slammed the gun on the bar top. “Did you come here to talk hair styles?”
Stammering, Garth’s eyes flicked between the two. “Well… no… more… signs… computer…”
“Ah!” Ash grabbed a dirty dishcloth, throwing it about his shoulders. “A civilian has need! Dr. Badass to the rescue.”
“Actually I’m a…”
“To the Bat Cave!”
Ash strode off. Garth looked apologetically at Ellen. “Sorry, I’ll just…”
Heaving a sigh, Ellen flicked a finger at him. “Oh, be gone with you boy.”
--
Ash had already fired up the computer by the time Garth had navigated the door. He was confused but impressed.
“This is quite different to Sam and Dean’s bat cave.”
“Well, small dude, this is as much as Ellen would let me do. She says it’s my room, but then all she’d let me do is put the sign on the door – which is totally badass. She wouldn’t let me put a cellar in. And won’t let me use hers. It’s not like I would have done much to the beer…”
“Drunk it?”
Ash paused in his typing. “Well, yeah. But that’s what it’s for, right? Ok, let me check the latest…”
“But you don’t even know what I want…”
“These fingers… they work magic. Plus Dean left a message three days ago, so thought it might be about that.”
--
It was about that.
Ash enjoyed showing off to someone who was interested, and Garth enjoyed being with someone who… well, who seemed to just enjoy his company. Much as he loved Sam and Dean, and was happy to help, Dean was sometimes mean. And Sam ignored him.
So Garth happily watched Ash work, and in no time at all, he had the information ready.
“You couldn’t have sent that three days ago?”
Ash shrugged and stretched. “Maybe. But three days ago I had to battle the Renunciate Guild. They were infringing on my castle, man! I couldn’t stand by and let them take it…
That met with dead silence.
Ah well, thought Ash. If it wasn’t the drinking, or the naming, or the hair, or the sleeping on the pool table, it was the gaming. Although Garth seemed to be having an odd sort of hyperventilating reaction.
“That was you?”
Also an odd response.
“Do you know how long it took me to build that guild! It was the most powerful in the eastern quarter, and then just wiped out! Like I was nothing. That was my army!”
Ash felt a little bad. He didn’t normally meet his conquests. “I’m sorry, dude. But I really wanted you to sto…”
It didn’t seem like the correct response, as Garth stared sadly at him. “Hey! Like… maybe I can help you set up a new army, with less weaknesses?”
Garth considered. “So we’d be… a team?”
Garth’s eyes shone, even as Ash winced. He didn’t like working on teams. They were pushy. Like ‘send me this information three days ago’ pushy. Oh, speaking of that…
Fingers flew across the keyboard as Ash got the information Dean wanted into Dean-readable format.
“There we are, my fine friend. That oughta keep him off my back for a few weeks.”
“Stop!”
Ash paused, before asking suspiciously, “Are you a double crosser? I thought you were here to get the info to Dean. I gotta tell you now, if this is you modus operandi, we are going to have issues as a team...”
Before he’d even finished speaking, Ash new he was wrong. The wide eyed innocent questioning in Garth’s eyes was too, too real.
“You aren’t going to just send it like that, are you? Dean’s been real cranky lately, so maybe a more friendly way to send it…?”
Garth trailed off, but Ash could see it working. “I see. You have a point, young Padawan. A happy Dean is good. A happy Dean doesn’t call.”
Garth sent him the sunniest smile. “It needs a messenger! And I have the perfect one!”
--
Ten minutes later it was done. Ash wasn’t so sure, but he dig Garth’s enthusiasm.
“I say we consistently use him for demon information? Because it might work better with different messengers for each type of supernatural creature.”
“Hold there, Obi-wan.” The single hand Ash stuck out stopped Garth in his verbal tracks. “There are way too many individual creatures. We at least have to group them. How many messengers do we really need?”
“Eight.” Garth’s answer was definite, while Ash merely raised an eyebrow.
“It’s my lucky number,” Garth hurried on to explain.
Ash looked thoughtful, then shrugged. “Good enough for me.”
--
An hour later and the messengers had all been designed.
“This might be the best work I’ve ever done.”
“You’re amazing, Ash! Just amazing!”
“I really am.”
While Ash looked pleased with himself, Garth tried to think of a non-tactile way to prolong their interaction. When he came up with nothing, Garth couldn’t control himself any longer.
“Oh come here you! Hugs for the team!”
Garth pulled the computer genius into his arms. “The hunting world’s going to be much happier now! Because of you!”
Ash snagged a couple of beers, passing one to Garth. Clinking then together, Ash corrected him.
“Thanks to us. We’re a team now.”
It took a huge effort for Garth not to burst into tears.
--
Sam stared at the computer.
“Is that…”
Dean nodded. “Yes.”
“I mean, really. Is that…”
Dean nodded.
“Yes.”
“Mr Fizzles???”
Dean closed the lid to the laptop.
Sam glared at Dean. “This is totally your fault.”
Pairing: Ash/Garth
other characters: Sam, Dean
Fandom: Supernatural
warnings and kinks: attempted humour, crack
rating: G
story length: approx 1440
Summary: Garth is sent to ask Ash to track some demon activity. Something worse is unleashed on the hunting world.
a/n: as soon as I saw the Ash/Garth pairing, I knew I wanted to try it. These are actually both characters that I really like, although I haven’t really thought much about them… So I don’t have their voices down, but this is my effort for the SPN pairings bingo
--
“And hurry up, goddamnit!”
Dean threw down the phone after leaving yet another message. It probably wasn’t fair to take it out on Garth, but goddamit! Ash was taking too long, so Dean sent Garth to talk to him. To speed up the fucking process. It wasn’t like Garth hadn’t been in the area, and Dean figured that Ash might take note of a human messenger. That had been two days ago. What the fuck where they up to?
The sharp ping of a message received broke through Dean’s thoughts.
“About freaking time,” he grumbled. Maybe he’d have to go himself next time. Whatever. It was here now.
Email sent, Garth confirmed. Dean clicked on the email, impatiently waiting for it to open. Then stopped and stared, unable to take his eyes from the screen.
Really, when he thought about it? This was his own fault. Dean should have known it would not go well. Individually, two great guys. But the meeting of the two? Like… like oil and water for the rest of humanity. Nitro and glycerin. And angel and an angel knife. A…
“Dean? Are you ok?”
Sam’s face swam into focus. Dean blinked.
“You’ve been sitting there for ten minutes. Didn’t even respond to the pie stimulus. Everything ok?”
Sam didn’t look worried enough.
“It’s worse than the apocalypse.”
Sam looked skeptical. Dean swung the computer around to face him…
--
“And what brings you here?”
Garth swallowed nervously. Women in general made him nervous. Women who stared at him down the barrel of a shotgun made him even more nervous.
“Ah. I’m Garth and…”
“I didn’t ask who you were,” she interrupted. “I asked what brings you here.”
“Ash?” Garth could hear the question in his voice. So could shotgun lady.
“Ash?” She raised her voice. “Are you expecting anyone?”
“No sirrreeeeee. Can’t say I am.”
Garth turned. A small man with a lot of blonde hair had been sleeping on the pool table. It really was a lot of hair.
“I like your hair,” he offered.
Ash blinked at him. “But I am now! Put the gun down, Ellen. This is obviously a man who knows good things when he sees them.”
Garth turned again. “You’re Ellen? You’re much younger than I expected!”
Ellen’s finger tightened on the shotgun. “Who’ve you been talkin’ to?”
Garth had an unfortunate blank. This was it. He was going to die because he couldn’t remember the name of Sam and Dean…
“Winchester! Sam and Dean Winchester!”
Garth sent a relieved smile in Ellen’s direction. Ellen didn’t return it.
Ash, however, deemed this a suitable introduction.
“Well then! I am pleased to make your acquaintance. So… if they said Ellen looked old,” Ash blithely ignored the k-chack of the shotgun being primed, “What did they say about me?”
“Oh, that you were super with computers, and you looked like an 80s glam rocker. Which you do!” he hurried to reassure Ash. “It’s a very good look on you!”
“It is magnificent isn’t it?”
Garth was nodding before Ash was finished. “It really is! Do you style it often?”
Ellen slammed the gun on the bar top. “Did you come here to talk hair styles?”
Stammering, Garth’s eyes flicked between the two. “Well… no… more… signs… computer…”
“Ah!” Ash grabbed a dirty dishcloth, throwing it about his shoulders. “A civilian has need! Dr. Badass to the rescue.”
“Actually I’m a…”
“To the Bat Cave!”
Ash strode off. Garth looked apologetically at Ellen. “Sorry, I’ll just…”
Heaving a sigh, Ellen flicked a finger at him. “Oh, be gone with you boy.”
--
Ash had already fired up the computer by the time Garth had navigated the door. He was confused but impressed.
“This is quite different to Sam and Dean’s bat cave.”
“Well, small dude, this is as much as Ellen would let me do. She says it’s my room, but then all she’d let me do is put the sign on the door – which is totally badass. She wouldn’t let me put a cellar in. And won’t let me use hers. It’s not like I would have done much to the beer…”
“Drunk it?”
Ash paused in his typing. “Well, yeah. But that’s what it’s for, right? Ok, let me check the latest…”
“But you don’t even know what I want…”
“These fingers… they work magic. Plus Dean left a message three days ago, so thought it might be about that.”
--
It was about that.
Ash enjoyed showing off to someone who was interested, and Garth enjoyed being with someone who… well, who seemed to just enjoy his company. Much as he loved Sam and Dean, and was happy to help, Dean was sometimes mean. And Sam ignored him.
So Garth happily watched Ash work, and in no time at all, he had the information ready.
“You couldn’t have sent that three days ago?”
Ash shrugged and stretched. “Maybe. But three days ago I had to battle the Renunciate Guild. They were infringing on my castle, man! I couldn’t stand by and let them take it…
That met with dead silence.
Ah well, thought Ash. If it wasn’t the drinking, or the naming, or the hair, or the sleeping on the pool table, it was the gaming. Although Garth seemed to be having an odd sort of hyperventilating reaction.
“That was you?”
Also an odd response.
“Do you know how long it took me to build that guild! It was the most powerful in the eastern quarter, and then just wiped out! Like I was nothing. That was my army!”
Ash felt a little bad. He didn’t normally meet his conquests. “I’m sorry, dude. But I really wanted you to sto…”
It didn’t seem like the correct response, as Garth stared sadly at him. “Hey! Like… maybe I can help you set up a new army, with less weaknesses?”
Garth considered. “So we’d be… a team?”
Garth’s eyes shone, even as Ash winced. He didn’t like working on teams. They were pushy. Like ‘send me this information three days ago’ pushy. Oh, speaking of that…
Fingers flew across the keyboard as Ash got the information Dean wanted into Dean-readable format.
“There we are, my fine friend. That oughta keep him off my back for a few weeks.”
“Stop!”
Ash paused, before asking suspiciously, “Are you a double crosser? I thought you were here to get the info to Dean. I gotta tell you now, if this is you modus operandi, we are going to have issues as a team...”
Before he’d even finished speaking, Ash new he was wrong. The wide eyed innocent questioning in Garth’s eyes was too, too real.
“You aren’t going to just send it like that, are you? Dean’s been real cranky lately, so maybe a more friendly way to send it…?”
Garth trailed off, but Ash could see it working. “I see. You have a point, young Padawan. A happy Dean is good. A happy Dean doesn’t call.”
Garth sent him the sunniest smile. “It needs a messenger! And I have the perfect one!”
--
Ten minutes later it was done. Ash wasn’t so sure, but he dig Garth’s enthusiasm.
“I say we consistently use him for demon information? Because it might work better with different messengers for each type of supernatural creature.”
“Hold there, Obi-wan.” The single hand Ash stuck out stopped Garth in his verbal tracks. “There are way too many individual creatures. We at least have to group them. How many messengers do we really need?”
“Eight.” Garth’s answer was definite, while Ash merely raised an eyebrow.
“It’s my lucky number,” Garth hurried on to explain.
Ash looked thoughtful, then shrugged. “Good enough for me.”
--
An hour later and the messengers had all been designed.
“This might be the best work I’ve ever done.”
“You’re amazing, Ash! Just amazing!”
“I really am.”
While Ash looked pleased with himself, Garth tried to think of a non-tactile way to prolong their interaction. When he came up with nothing, Garth couldn’t control himself any longer.
“Oh come here you! Hugs for the team!”
Garth pulled the computer genius into his arms. “The hunting world’s going to be much happier now! Because of you!”
Ash snagged a couple of beers, passing one to Garth. Clinking then together, Ash corrected him.
“Thanks to us. We’re a team now.”
It took a huge effort for Garth not to burst into tears.
--
Sam stared at the computer.
“Is that…”
Dean nodded. “Yes.”
“I mean, really. Is that…”
Dean nodded.
“Yes.”
“Mr Fizzles???”
Dean closed the lid to the laptop.
Sam glared at Dean. “This is totally your fault.”
