Away Put Your Weapon. I Mean You No Harm.
"Weapons? You will need them not."
"Don't need weapons, you git. I'm wearing one."
"That place, dark with the Force, it is."
"I never understood the backwards speech. Gets a bit old, you know."
"When 900 years YOU live, instruct me on proper speech, you can. I say not: bolllocks."
"Nine hundred? You're like, Master-old. No wonder you look like that."
Sigh "I cannot train him."
"Don't need training, you short frog. What I need is for your friend to hurry up with that report on my chip."
Jonathon pulls the mask off and frowns over to Andrew, who is plopped on the bean-bag in the corner, sipping a Yoo-Hoo with a bendy straw.
"Aw, come on. I had it down perfect!"
Andrew swallows noisily and nods, "Yeah. You were totally Empire. No Grover at all. Okay. Now do Chewie."
Spike bellows, "WARREN!"
For entrenous88 who wanted Giles and Xander, no parody, and them as race car drivers. Well, this is what came out. And for cityphonelines who asked for something she could relate to. Again, Gen Fic.
They Call Me Mario Andretti, 'Cause I Always Drive My Car Well
"These have to be the lamest demons ever. Isn't there a handbook or something? Aren't they supposed to adhere to some type of code? How can a demon instill fear when he's driving a Dodge Stratus? Although, it is a comfy ride. Good shocks. And they have bucket seats built for a man's ass-"
"Do you mind? I'm trying to catch these bastards and you're detailing the creature comforts of Detroit Steel."
"Heh. Creature comforts. Do you think that's where that came from?"
"Hang on!" Giles turned sharply to the right, almost catching the front bumper on a fire hydrant as he navigated the narrow turn into the alley. A Gordok demon had stolen a sacred book from the mausoleum When are we ever going to methodically go through those and pull out all of the Gems, Swords, Books, etc.? and was racing to their secret location for a ritual. And apparently, they found the leather-appointed GM vehicle a better mode of transportation than shambling quickly, yet awkwardly, through the sewers of Sunnydale.
"There! Giles, turn left."
The boy may not have been the brightest when it came to research, but he was astute when it came to chasing after demons. Which was a good thing as Giles was still getting comfortable with his new sportscar, or his "Mid-Life Crisis" as Buffy called it. Giles was still getting used to the controls and how fast the engine responded to be able to tail the demons properly.
"Giles, hang back. They've shut their lights off. Hang back. HANG BACK! Uh, in English that means to 'slow down right and proper.'"
"Amusing as always," Giles retorted as he down-shifted to second from fifth. The smell of burning clutch filled the interior of the BMW.
Xander looked at Giles with an accusing glare. "I think it would be best if you just pulled over. I'll drive, you incant. Or, you know, whatever."
The lights in front of them had gone out completely, and as dark as it was, they had apparently lost the Demon Dodge. A quick game of "firedrill" at the corner, and Xander turned the engine back on while Giles strapped in. Xander waved his hand at Giles slowly. "Your seatbelt. You will need it not."
"I daresay that I will. Now come on. We have to get to them before they start the pyre. The baby goes on immediately."
"Ewwww. Just once, I'd like to stop a Demon Bingo ring. Where they fight with Nerf footballs."
"Yes, well, dreams and hopes aside, let's try and stop this group of demons, yes? Don't be afraid to use the gas, son."
Normally Xander bristled at the word "son." It was usually preceded by, "how can such a dumbass be my" or "he's YOUR," or followed with "shape up or get the hell out of my house. And bring me a cold beer." But this was Giles. No hand being raised, no doors slamming, no real insults. He chided Xander on occasion, but there wasn't anything mean or cruel behind it. Giles was the best example for how a man should turn out that Xander had in his life. Xander joked and made silly comments because he felt relaxed with the older man. He certainly never joked with his parents. That would almost certainly get him a "how can such a dumbass be my" response.
Giles was everything his dad was not: patient, smart, considerate, thoughtful, structured. And one day he'd get Giles to smile for him like Giles smiled at Buffy.
"On your right! I can see them walking across that field! Oh, well done, Xander. Excellent navigation. I'll get my books and get started on the spell. Contact Buffy and..."
Xander felt his hands tingle. He was just going to play that compliment over for a bit, then he'd call the girls. While Giles sneaked behind a tree and set up his candles and such, Xander pulled out his cell phone and said to himself, "can SO be useful."
More later. Uh... if you want, that is. *bosses YOU around* For those that watched ST:TNG: "LOVE ME!"