So, after watching Episode 18 (SPOILER warning btw) I started to think about just what Ketch might overhear the Winchesters talking about through the bug he put under their table, and then of course there was the chupachabra blooper, and that just started this whole thing off. I hope you might find it amusing. It was kind of creepy writing from Ketch's POV o_0
Characters/ Setting: Ketch, Sam, Dean/ S12 (Tag to 12x18)
Genre: Crack, humor
Rating: K+
Are Your Ears Burning?
Ketch is beginning to really regret putting a bug in the bunker (Tag to 12x18)
It was a good tactical measure, he wasn't going to go back on that. It was imperative that they know what the Winchesters were planning, where they would be hunting; all the better to keep track of them if they needed to be taken out. But Ketch had to admit that sometimes he really, really, regretted bugging the bunker.
For instance, when they first got back and he finished debriefing them over the phone, they ended the call and instantly started insulting him.
"Can't even say 'chupachabra' right," Dean snorted.
"I know," Sam agreed.
Then Dean started doing an incredibly bad British accent.
"Yes, I love some crumpets after I hunt chupachabras," Dean mocked. "What a dick. I mean, Mick is bad enough, but at least he's not quite up there on the level of duchery that Ketch is. I mean seriously."
"Agreed," Sam pitched in. "Mick might actually not be so bad of a guy deep down, but Ketch is a pure sociopath."
Ketch narrowed his brow. Obviously, he had been called worse, but he didn't particularly appreciate having to listen to the two Americans insult him either. And what was wrong with how he said chupacabra?
"I mean it, next time we have to work with him, I'm keying his motorcycle on principle."
He most certainly would not if he wanted that lumbering, American-made scrap heap to stay in one piece. Ketch then had to endure more of Dean's horrific British impressions and completely unnecessary Downtown Abbey jabs while Sam snorted laughter like the trained monkey he was, before the Englishman went to find an underling to take over the job of listening for a while.
XXX
Several days passed and nothing of any real import came up. There was some talk of researching cases and Kelly Kline, but neither had apparently found anything, so Ketch began to make tallies for his own amusement.
His first running tally was for how many times Dean called that halo and left a message. Wherever the angel was, Ketch wasn't exactly surprised it wasn't replying to the elder Winchester's constant nagging. It was grating, and Ketch still didn't understand their attachment to the halo, but then, people could become fond of their pets, he supposed. He hadn't had any pets as a child, so instead he collected bugs and pinned them to boards, and captured frogs for dissection. Of course he'd never become attached to them. That would have been ridiculous.
His second tally involved how many times he heard them open beers. Honestly, he began to wonder how they were even still functioning with how much liquor they consumed. They must go through at least twenty six-packs a week, and that wasn't even counting the whisky Dean consumed. Ketch decided that if he had to shoot the Winchesters, he wanted to dissect Dean to see if he had a magically enhanced liver. He supposed it was entirely possible considering everything else the Winchester had survived.
Oh bollocks, there he went calling the angel again.
XXX
"Dude, what the hell happened to my shampoo?"
"What shampoo?"
"You know exactly what shampoo, Dean!"
"Oh, you mean the special secret shampoo that you swore didn't exist?"
Ah, he knew Sam Winchester had some kind of secret hair-care product. No one's hair was that good without a lot of work.
"Dean, come on, just tell me what you did with it!"
"The only thing I gotta say is that that stuff is magic. It makes you silky smooth…everywhere."
"Oh god, Dean, why are you so disgusting?!"
"Hey, why do you have to hide the good stuff. Don't I deserve good shampoo too?"
"Dude, your hair it like, one tenth the length of mine! You don't have problems with tangling!"
"My god, you are such a chick! I keep offering to take some scissors to your mop, Sammy, but you don't like the idea."
"My hair looks good like this!"
"Whatever, Fabio."
"Dean, get back here! That bottle was almost full, you couldn't have possibly used all of it. Dean! Dean! Dammit, what did you do with my shampoo?!"
Ketch muted the connection as cursing and scuffling could be heard and lowered his head into his hands.
Sometimes he truly regretted having to shoot Davies. He would have been a lot more suited to this job.
XXX
Day five:
Tally One—Calls to Halo: 24 30
Tally Two—Beers consumed: 86 90 92
XXX
"Dean, where are you going with the grenade launcher?"
"Um…cleaning it."
"Dude, do. not. take that thing down to the shooting range."
"Relax, Sammy. This is why we have a bunker."
"Dean, you cannot use that thing inside."
"Dean."
"Dean!"
More scrambling and cursing. Ketch almost wished the grenade launcher would go off if he didn't long for the opportunity to take the Winchesters out himself.
XXX
Ugh. Paperwork. Ketch wondered when headquarters would send another paper pusher. He was really starting to get a dangerous amount of homicidal rage sitting at a desk all day. He really needed to kill something.
At least things at the bunker seemed to be quiet. They must have gone to bed…no, wait…
Oh god, why did Dean always have to watch porn in the library?
XXX
Day 10:
Tally One—Calls to halo: 46 50
Tally Two—Beers consumed: 156 178?
XXX
"Oh, dude, that is disgusting."
Ketch had to agree, especially with the revolting moans of pleasure Dean was letting out as he ate—whatever ghastly thing it was he was currently clogging his arteries with. From the nauseating smacking sounds, Ketch could tell he wasn't chewing with his mouth closed either. Vulgar.
"Oh, you do not know what you're missing, Sammy. This is literally the best thing known to man. Cronuts, around a sausage patty with cheese and eggs. It's a revolutionary breakfast sandwich. It's almost better than the Elvis."
"That doughnut burger?"
"Um, excuse you, you mean the Elvis. Only the most magnificent food item known to man. Though this…mmph…close second."
"Whatever, Dean. Are you gonna help research or what? Cas has been AWOL too long and we need to get a location on Kelly Kline like yesterday."
"I'm on it, here, look, I'm researching."
"Dude, not on my computer!"
"Well do you want me to help or not?"
"You just got all the keys sticky! Dean, don't touch the screen! Dean!"
XXX
By Day Twelve, Ketch began adding to the drinking tally himself.
XXX
Day Fifteen:
Sam must be away from the bunker because Dean is blasting rock music and singing along horribly. Ketch had the horrible feeling that he was probably dancing as well.
If Ketch wasn't such a narcissist, he would blow his own brains out if he ever had to listen to Led Zeppelin again.
XXX
Day Seventeen:
He had forgotten the tallies. He had lost interest in it. Today, Dean was obviously in town because Ketch heard Sam give a contented sigh as he sat at the table and pretty soon he heard Downton Abbey playing.
He almost wished he could send a recording of this to Dean.
XXX
Day Twenty:
They were doing the Hoovering. Ketch was surprised. He didn't think they were that domestic. But then, Dean Winchester organized his porn by year, so perhaps he was more obsessive compulsive than Ketch had given him credit for previously.
Of course, Dean's thoroughness wasn't a good thing in this case.
"What the hell? Sam!"
"What now?"
"What the hell is this?"
Silence and then footsteps. "Um, it looks like a bug."
"I know what it looks like, how did it get here?!"
"Mick." Sam spat.
Ketch almost laughed. They still thought Davies was alive. Well, let him take the blame then.
"Okay, this has gone on long enough—"
Ketch covered his ears and quickly muted the volume of the computer as Dean obviously smashed the bug.
Of course, they had been found out, but Ketch was practically giddy.
Maybe now he could go back to doing what he did best. Killing.
He picked up the phone with a smirk, ready to spin a tale. "Yes, director. I have perfect reason to suspect the Winchesters should be taken out as quickly as possible…"
Yes, my newest head canon is that Sam in a closet Downton Abbey fan. Also, I think I hit pretty much every in-joke from the season in this story :P
Now that you've read this, you can check out my S12 story "Family First" if you want something angsty. :P