Title: The Case of the Missing Paint Can
'Verse/characters: Adrian and Elizabeth Fawcett at the Blue Door Cafe
Prompt: #34 Not Enough
Word Count: 1,261
Rating: PG for slight language
Notes: This is totally Clue's fault for having such great dialogue and CrazyTalk for rooting herself in my subconscious.

"Go get the other can, El."

"What other can?"

"The other can of paint."

"We don't have another can of paint."

"I bought five cans of paint. We've only used four."

"We used five."

"We used four."




"Then why have we only got four empty paint cans?"

"…I threw one of them away."

"No you didn't."

"Yes I did."

"You didn't."

"I did."

"You haven't left the room since we started painting! What the coral is going on, Elizabeth?'

"I don't know. You're the delusional one."

"I am not delus—that won't work on me. I'm not as stupid as the Goddess."


"Where. Is. The. Paint."

"I. Don't. Know."

"Nereus damnit! You just said you threw it away!"


"But you don't know where it is."


"Yes you do know?"


"No to the first question or the second?"

"Yes and then no."

"You're going to drive me insane."

"Look, I don't know what happened to the paint. We used all five cans though."

"No we didn't. I specifically found out how much paint we were going to need to paint all four walls and ordered that much. We still have half a wall unpainted which is how much a single can of paint would cover plus any spots we need to touch up later. We're missing one paint can."

"You could have miscalculated."

"Are you kidding me?"

"Fine! You didn't miscalculate. You never miscalculate. You're the most mathematically gifted nymph in existence."

"Then where is the other paint can?"




"You're worse than Persephone."

"Hey now. No need for insults."

"Then what the narwhale are you mumbling?"

"I threw it on a dragon, alright!"


"I threw it on a dragon."


"I did!"

"You expect me to believe that?"

"Sonofagoddess. I'm telling you the truth! A dragon snuck up behind me yesterday when I was opening one of the paint cans to get a look and he scared me so I threw it on him. Then I knew you would get mad so I cleaned it up before you got back from the house."

"Dragons hate the ocean, why would one be here?"

"He was a sea dragon."

"Sea dragons are extinct."

"They might be now. He didn't seem to react well to the paint."

"What do you mean 'didn't react well'?"

"He started sneezing."


"A lot."


"It was gross."

"Do you think people are allergic to our paint?"

"We're not."

"We're nymphs. We're not allergic to anything."

"Good point. It probably wouldn't be good for business if people started sneezing as soon as they walked in the door."

"Coral. Did the dragon say anything?"

"Between the sneezing? I couldn't tell. He gave me his card though. I've got it here."

"Jordan Welsh, Chairman of the Supernatural Chamber of Commerce. You threw paint on the chairman of the SCoC!"

"He scared me!"

"Goddess, he was probably coming to invite us to join!"

"That would make sense. He was carrying a bunch of papers but they got covered in paint too."


"What? It was totally his fault."

"Why didn't you tell me yesterday?"

"Because I knew you would get mad and then you'd be all mopey for the next week."

"Don't be such a barnacle."

"Well, it's true!"

"Is not. So let me get all of this straight: we have half a blank wall because you threw our last can of special order paint on the chairman of the SCoC when he came by to most likely invite us into the chamber of commerce for the area. On top of all that the chairman had an allergic reaction to the paint that's on all of the café walls but this half and we've got no way of knowing if this is going to happen to everyone that walks in."

"And there's a spot of paint on the floor that I couldn't get off when I was cleaning yesterday."

"What? Where?"

"Under all those cardboard boxes."

"I wondered why you'd moved them."

"Now you know."

"You're going to have to go talk to Welsh and fix all this."

"He's mad at me! We had a bad first impression. It would be better if you talked to him."

"Nope. You're doing it, El. I've got to figure out what's up with this paint."

"You want me to go see him now?"

"No, sometime next century should be fine. Of course now!"

"I don't want to."

"You're three thousand seven hundred and fifty years old. It's about time you started acting like an adult."

"We're nymphs. We're supposed to be playful and flighty."


"Fine, I'm going! Jeez, Triton needs to come back soon because you so need to get laid. Ouch!"