Spring Isn't Moonridge

Spring Isn't Moonridge

by brooklinegirl




Garettverse ficlet for Estrella's demand to "make spring sexy." Disclaimer: Hi. this is in NO WAY based on the actual Garett Maggart. This is MADE-UP. FICTION. w00t.

Spring is when the fall seems a million years away, and sure, it's warm and it's sunny a lot of the time and there are long drives with the top down and Fiona's bare feet on the dashboard, but in the fall there is Moonridge, and Richard, and fans. Spring is when there are no new scripts coming in, when he's sure his agent is avoiding his call, when he wishes he'd never moved in with Ken, because Ken has "parties," for Valentine's Day, for Easter, even, and there are women in lingerie, women with bunny ears, and not one of them will talk to Garett.

Spring drags itself along, and Garett spends more time on Fiona's living room floor than anyplace else, watching TV on the flat-screen she had installed on the wall. His butt aches from sitting, even on the thick gray carpeting, and he wishes she would get a couch at least. He wishes, sometimes, that she wasn't so weird, but then he figures, if she wasn't so weird, she maybe wouldn't want him around as much as she does.

Spring is when Garett leaves too many messages on Richard's cell phone, but he can't stop himself from calling, even when Richard never calls back.

Garett thinks sometimes that spring will always be the same, that nothing will ever change.

When he hears about it - he doesn't even get a call, just an email from his agent, but that's great, that's totally fine, because the important thing is that the show - their show - is finally, fucking finally, coming out on DVD. DVD, man, that is the big time. DVD means new fans! It means new attention from the older fans, too, and it means there might be signings, there might be con invites, there might be so many things from this. And it's only season one!

He calls Richard right away, from the phone in Fiona's kitchen because his cell phone has been cut off again. He's so surprised when Richard picks up, he forgets what he was going to say for a second. "Hey!"

"Hey, Garett," Richard says, and he sounds amused, which he usually does around Garett, and he sounds happy to hear from him, which he usually doesn't. "What's up?"

"Did you hear?" Garett asks. "Did you get the news?"

"What news?" Garett hears a door close, pictures Richard shutting the door between himself and his wife, settling down on the leather couch in the den. "Garett?"

"Oh! About the show! The Sentinel. It's coming out on DVD, dude! How cool is that?"

There's a moment of silence, and then, "It is?" Richard sounds puzzled. "Really? Are you sure?"

"Yeah! My agent told me, probably wanted to make sure I'd be available for interviews or whatever. DVD! Season one! This spring!"

Another pause, and then, "Why?" Richard says in a bewildered tone.

Garett blinks. "Dude, it's the Sentinel. Who doesn't want that?"

Richard mutters something that sounds like, "Most of North America?" but the line is a little staticy, so Garett may have heard wrong.

"Anyway, I just wanted to, you know, make sure you knew." Garett wrapped the phone cord around his finger. "And, hey, you know, if you ever want to get together for a beer or - you know, whatever, that would be cool." He waits, his heart beating a little too fast.

There's a creak of leather - ha, he knew it, Richard is on the couch - and he says, "Yeah, okay." His voice is low, and he sounds - anticipatory.

Garett can feel the grin spreading across his face. They make plans to meet later at a bar near Richard, which is, as it happens, in the lobby of a hotel. Garett is shuffling his feet in a little dorky dance as he hangs up, and when Fiona peeks around the door to the kitchen, he tugs her in and spins her around once or twice, her feet slip-sliding on the floor in their socks. "What, Garett?" she asks when he lets her go, smiling at him and pushing the hair out of her eyes.

"Nothing." He can't stop grinning. "Just - you know. Spring fever, is all."

She's laughing at him as he dances out the door, and you know what? He doesn't even care.


happy funyon home
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