Y'Goin' for a Pint ?
By Cyberwulf
Rated 12s (PG-13)
Spoilers : One teensy one for 'Band Candy' and that episode where Buffy has psychic powers.
Disclaimer : Buffy, Angel and related characters belong to Joss Whedon and various other people who aren't me. The show 'Cops' also does not belong to me. The song "Never Shove a Cracker" is property of Double Z Productions.
Summary : The idea for this fanfic is a bit of a cliché, but what the hell. Basically, various people are caught doing something they really shouldn't be doing, much to the anger/embarrassment of certain other people. Confused yet? Wait...
"All right, Angel, you can do this," Angel slurred to himself, stifling a hiccup. He got the key in the ignition on the fifth try and drove off very slowly.
*Warning: The author would like to inform all teenagers and young adults that trying to drive a car while completely legless is a bloody stupid thing to do.*
Buffy flopped down on the couch and grabbed a handful of popcorn.
"Hey!" Xander exclaimed indignantly. "HEY!" he yelled again as Cordelia followed suit.
"It's great to see you again, Cordelia," Willow said. "How's LA?"
Cordelia shrugged. "Better than this backwater burg, that's for sure," she said, adding quickly, "No offence."
"So what's on TV?" Buffy asked.
" 'Sunnydale Cops - Live'," Xander replied with a grin. As the girls groaned in unison, he flicked on the TV set.
"Live from Sunnydale - Cops!" the announcer declared. The picture zoomed in on a familiar black car, weaving slowly all over the road.
"Isn't that Spike's car?" Willow remarked.
"Shit," Angel burped, seeing the blue lights in the rear-view mirror. He pulled over and the front wheel of the car went into a ditch.
"Fuck," he murmured as the patrolman approached. He turned to the others. "Now jus' - just let me do the talking, cuz I'm the most sober, okay?"
"We're intercepting a suspected drunk driver," the patrolman's partner explained. The Scoobies watched in a mixture of curiosity and trepidation.
Angel shrank into the seat. The patrolman knocked on the window. Angel rolled it down and gave the cop a nervous smile.
"Hi, I'm Sergeant Dawson, could you step out of the car, please, sir?"
Buffy, Willow, Xander and Cordelia prepared themselves for the emergence of Spike's bleach blonde hair. Instead a taller, dark-haired man opened the door and stood up very carefully. He leaned against the car, swaying gently from side to side.
"Oh...my...God," Buffy murmured as she recognised her former boyfriend. Cordelia cringed. Willow gaped. Xander grinned.
"Is this your vehicle, sir?" Dawson asked.
"Uh...uh no," Angel replied. Then, seeing the cop's expression, he added quickly, "Uh, I mean yes. I mean, uh...it's his."
"Who?"
"His," Angel repeated, indicating the car. "Spike's."
The patrolman leaned in and took a look through the window. There were four other occupants of the car. The one in the front seat was glaring at him menacingly. Of the three in the back, one looked positively ill, one was grinning like a moron, and the other was struggling not to giggle madly. There were a lot of empty liquor bottles on the floor, and some fast food papers thrown around.
"Which one of you is Spike?" the cop asked.
One of them gave the sick-looking one a nudge with his elbow. The sick one groaned and raised a hand.
"I'm gonna have to ask all of you to step out of the vehicle," the patrolman declared. The cameraman got out of the car to film the scene more clearly. Buffy and the others watched, transfixed, as the other passengers emerged. A small, dark haired man staggered out of the passenger side.
"Doyle!" Cordelia exclaimed in shock.
Spike crawled out of the rear driver's door. He hauled himself upright, and put one hand on his stomach, groaning.
"He looks really bad," Willow murmured.
The other rear door opened, and a bespectacled figure rolled out and fell in the ditch. For some reason, he found this hysterical.
"WESLEY?!" Cordelia exclaimed in even more shock.
"Hey, this is getting good!" Xander declared, shoving popcorn in his mouth.
The last passenger emerged from the same side as Wesley. He came out very slowly and walked unsteadily around to the driver's side. He nearly slipped when he got there and hung onto the car's roof, grinning like an idiot.
"Oh God, Giles," Buffy moaned softly.
"I'm assuming none of you are fit to drive this car," Dawson declared.
"No, no, no," Giles replied, "I can drive, no, I'm perfectly capable, give me a sobriety test, go on..."
The patrolman sighed. He turned to his partner. "Okay, Eddie, get the tape -"
"Where's me jelly?" Doyle yelled suddenly. "Where's me SHAGGIN' jelly?!" He dived back into the car. "Get the jelly..."
His sudden movement caused both cops to draw their guns.
"Step outta the vehicle!" the patrolman bawled. Doyle emerged, glowering and munching on a packet of ready-made jelly (the kind where all you have to do is melt it in boiling water and then reset it). The cops put their guns away.
"Could be drugs," Dawson declared. "I better search the car." He turned to Angel. "Would you turn over your keys, sir?"
Angel felt in all his pockets.
"Uh...I do-(hic) don't have 'em," Angel replied. Dawson reached into the car and took the keys out of the ignition. He went around to the boot.
"You can't do that!" Angel shouted . "Sarcastic Dan's in there!" The cop opened the boot and found a crate of jelly inside, the kind Doyle was chewing. He cast a look of suspicion at Angel, and then searched the rest of the car.
Eddie went round to the boot of the squad car and came back with a roll of white tape. As Giles watched, he marked out a straight line on the hard shoulder with it.
"Could you walk along that line please, sir," he said to Giles. Frowning in intense concentration, Giles gazed at the line for quite a while, and then looked up at the cop.
"Now look here," he slurred, "if you want me to walk along this line, you could at least have the - the decency, to tell it to stop moving about all over the place..." He fell back against Spike's car. In the ditch, Wesley, who had calmed down to a kind of quiet chuckling, burst into hysterics again.
"Ohhhh," Spike groaned loudly. "Ohhhh, sick...with...drink..." He hiccupped . "Ohhhh, my tummy..."
"Well that's what you get for eating all those burgers, m'dear," Giles remarked.
Sergeant Dawson took a last look at the empty liquor bottles strewn around the car.
"You boys wouldn't happen to know anything about a mini-mall that was ram- raided earlier tonight, would you?" he asked.
"LOOOK at, my new hat!" Wesley sang. The camera panned onto him. He was dancing around near the edge of the ditch with a traffic cone on his head. Suddenly he danced a little too close, wobbled all over the place, and fell backwards into the ditch. There was a pause, and then more hysterical laughter.
"I'm gonna have to take all your names," Dawson announced.
"Angel," Angel said.
"Your REAL name?" the cop replied.
"Uh...Angel?"
"Spi-ike," Spike moaned.
"Right," Dawson answered, beginning to get just a little bit pissed off. He walked over to the ditch. "And what's your name, huh?"
"Wesley Wyndham-Pryce!" Wesley called out giddily.
Dawson frowned. He was getting a little bit tired of this. "How about you?" he asked Doyle. Doyle just glared.
"That's Doyle," Angel hiccupped.
"What , doesn't he have a first name?"
Angel looked at Wesley-or, in Wesley's direction. Wesley looked in Angel's direction. They both shrugged.
"FRANNO!" Doyle shouted. "BRANCH!"
He wolfed down the last of the jelly. Dawson stared at him for almost a minute before he turned to the last member of the group.
"Rupert Giles," Giles declared. As the cop wrote it down, he asked, "D-do you have a daughter? Late teens, early twenties?"
"Actually I do," Dawson answered.
"Ah, yes, I thought so," Giles replied, with a Ripper-esque grin. "I recognise the name..."
"Hmm, never heard that one before," Dawson remarked, deadpan, as Giles started laughing at his pitiful attempt to piss off a traffic cop.
"No you should never shove a CRACKER up your ARSE on Hallowe'en," Doyle roared suddenly, "It's not clever, IT'S not funny, some think it's quite obscene..."
"I do NOT believe this is happening," Cordelia muttered.
"Hey," Xander remarked. "Where's Angel?"
They had their answer as, in the background, Angel staggered over to the patrol car and stood there with his back to them and his hands in front of him for quite a while.
"He's not doing what I think he's doing, is he?" Willow asked.
"This just gets better and better!" Xander guffawed.
"Are you all right, sir?" Dawson asked Spike, who was holding his stomach and looking decidedly green. Suddenly he caught sight of Angel. "Hey, hey, hey!"
Angel zipped up his pants and glanced over his shoulder.
"Do you mind? I'd like some privacy!"
"That does it, I'm taking all of these jokers in," Dawson declared. "Eddie, get Laughing Boy out of the gully." He approached Doyle, grabbed his wrists and handcuffed him. Eddie hauled a completely legless Wesley up to the road and made him lean on the bonnet of the patrol car while he handcuffed him. Dawson approached Spike. The vampire gave a final groan and threw up all over him.
"What's the difference between you lot, vump vump,
And a bucket of sick?" Wesley sang, giggling. "The bucket!"
Angel seemed genuinely surprised when Eddie cuffed him. He looked at Doyle, who was being brought over to the patrol car.
"What's happening?"
"They'll never silence our song of freedom!" the half-demon bawled. "Come on! LOOOWWWW, LIEEEEE, DE FIEEELLLDS, OF ATHENRYYYY..."
Angel joined in.
"WHERE ONCE, WE WATCHED, THE SMAAALL FREEBIRDS FLYYY."
"HEY BABY LET THE FREEBIRDS FLY!"
Both were bundled into the car. Spike was cuffed and he and Wesley were shoved into a second car that had just arrived. Giles was last. He was being put into the car with Spike and Wesley when the trio noticed the camera.
"We're on telly!" Wesley shouted giddily. He began to laugh again. "Bottom!"
"Urrrgh..." Spike leaned forward and got sick all over the floor.
"I'm sorry I shagged your mum, Buffy," Giles hiccupped, "but I was just so desperately horny, and she was gagging for it..."
The cops pushed him in and shut the door.
Xander turned off the TV, slightly stunned. Willow and Cordelia looked at Buffy, who was sitting with her face buried in her hands. Slowly, she looked up.
"See if you can scrape together some bail money," she sighed. "We're going down to the station."
By Cyberwulf
Rated 12s (PG-13)
Spoilers : One teensy one for 'Band Candy' and that episode where Buffy has psychic powers.
Disclaimer : Buffy, Angel and related characters belong to Joss Whedon and various other people who aren't me. The show 'Cops' also does not belong to me. The song "Never Shove a Cracker" is property of Double Z Productions.
Summary : The idea for this fanfic is a bit of a cliché, but what the hell. Basically, various people are caught doing something they really shouldn't be doing, much to the anger/embarrassment of certain other people. Confused yet? Wait...
"All right, Angel, you can do this," Angel slurred to himself, stifling a hiccup. He got the key in the ignition on the fifth try and drove off very slowly.
*Warning: The author would like to inform all teenagers and young adults that trying to drive a car while completely legless is a bloody stupid thing to do.*
Buffy flopped down on the couch and grabbed a handful of popcorn.
"Hey!" Xander exclaimed indignantly. "HEY!" he yelled again as Cordelia followed suit.
"It's great to see you again, Cordelia," Willow said. "How's LA?"
Cordelia shrugged. "Better than this backwater burg, that's for sure," she said, adding quickly, "No offence."
"So what's on TV?" Buffy asked.
" 'Sunnydale Cops - Live'," Xander replied with a grin. As the girls groaned in unison, he flicked on the TV set.
"Live from Sunnydale - Cops!" the announcer declared. The picture zoomed in on a familiar black car, weaving slowly all over the road.
"Isn't that Spike's car?" Willow remarked.
"Shit," Angel burped, seeing the blue lights in the rear-view mirror. He pulled over and the front wheel of the car went into a ditch.
"Fuck," he murmured as the patrolman approached. He turned to the others. "Now jus' - just let me do the talking, cuz I'm the most sober, okay?"
"We're intercepting a suspected drunk driver," the patrolman's partner explained. The Scoobies watched in a mixture of curiosity and trepidation.
Angel shrank into the seat. The patrolman knocked on the window. Angel rolled it down and gave the cop a nervous smile.
"Hi, I'm Sergeant Dawson, could you step out of the car, please, sir?"
Buffy, Willow, Xander and Cordelia prepared themselves for the emergence of Spike's bleach blonde hair. Instead a taller, dark-haired man opened the door and stood up very carefully. He leaned against the car, swaying gently from side to side.
"Oh...my...God," Buffy murmured as she recognised her former boyfriend. Cordelia cringed. Willow gaped. Xander grinned.
"Is this your vehicle, sir?" Dawson asked.
"Uh...uh no," Angel replied. Then, seeing the cop's expression, he added quickly, "Uh, I mean yes. I mean, uh...it's his."
"Who?"
"His," Angel repeated, indicating the car. "Spike's."
The patrolman leaned in and took a look through the window. There were four other occupants of the car. The one in the front seat was glaring at him menacingly. Of the three in the back, one looked positively ill, one was grinning like a moron, and the other was struggling not to giggle madly. There were a lot of empty liquor bottles on the floor, and some fast food papers thrown around.
"Which one of you is Spike?" the cop asked.
One of them gave the sick-looking one a nudge with his elbow. The sick one groaned and raised a hand.
"I'm gonna have to ask all of you to step out of the vehicle," the patrolman declared. The cameraman got out of the car to film the scene more clearly. Buffy and the others watched, transfixed, as the other passengers emerged. A small, dark haired man staggered out of the passenger side.
"Doyle!" Cordelia exclaimed in shock.
Spike crawled out of the rear driver's door. He hauled himself upright, and put one hand on his stomach, groaning.
"He looks really bad," Willow murmured.
The other rear door opened, and a bespectacled figure rolled out and fell in the ditch. For some reason, he found this hysterical.
"WESLEY?!" Cordelia exclaimed in even more shock.
"Hey, this is getting good!" Xander declared, shoving popcorn in his mouth.
The last passenger emerged from the same side as Wesley. He came out very slowly and walked unsteadily around to the driver's side. He nearly slipped when he got there and hung onto the car's roof, grinning like an idiot.
"Oh God, Giles," Buffy moaned softly.
"I'm assuming none of you are fit to drive this car," Dawson declared.
"No, no, no," Giles replied, "I can drive, no, I'm perfectly capable, give me a sobriety test, go on..."
The patrolman sighed. He turned to his partner. "Okay, Eddie, get the tape -"
"Where's me jelly?" Doyle yelled suddenly. "Where's me SHAGGIN' jelly?!" He dived back into the car. "Get the jelly..."
His sudden movement caused both cops to draw their guns.
"Step outta the vehicle!" the patrolman bawled. Doyle emerged, glowering and munching on a packet of ready-made jelly (the kind where all you have to do is melt it in boiling water and then reset it). The cops put their guns away.
"Could be drugs," Dawson declared. "I better search the car." He turned to Angel. "Would you turn over your keys, sir?"
Angel felt in all his pockets.
"Uh...I do-(hic) don't have 'em," Angel replied. Dawson reached into the car and took the keys out of the ignition. He went around to the boot.
"You can't do that!" Angel shouted . "Sarcastic Dan's in there!" The cop opened the boot and found a crate of jelly inside, the kind Doyle was chewing. He cast a look of suspicion at Angel, and then searched the rest of the car.
Eddie went round to the boot of the squad car and came back with a roll of white tape. As Giles watched, he marked out a straight line on the hard shoulder with it.
"Could you walk along that line please, sir," he said to Giles. Frowning in intense concentration, Giles gazed at the line for quite a while, and then looked up at the cop.
"Now look here," he slurred, "if you want me to walk along this line, you could at least have the - the decency, to tell it to stop moving about all over the place..." He fell back against Spike's car. In the ditch, Wesley, who had calmed down to a kind of quiet chuckling, burst into hysterics again.
"Ohhhh," Spike groaned loudly. "Ohhhh, sick...with...drink..." He hiccupped . "Ohhhh, my tummy..."
"Well that's what you get for eating all those burgers, m'dear," Giles remarked.
Sergeant Dawson took a last look at the empty liquor bottles strewn around the car.
"You boys wouldn't happen to know anything about a mini-mall that was ram- raided earlier tonight, would you?" he asked.
"LOOOK at, my new hat!" Wesley sang. The camera panned onto him. He was dancing around near the edge of the ditch with a traffic cone on his head. Suddenly he danced a little too close, wobbled all over the place, and fell backwards into the ditch. There was a pause, and then more hysterical laughter.
"I'm gonna have to take all your names," Dawson announced.
"Angel," Angel said.
"Your REAL name?" the cop replied.
"Uh...Angel?"
"Spi-ike," Spike moaned.
"Right," Dawson answered, beginning to get just a little bit pissed off. He walked over to the ditch. "And what's your name, huh?"
"Wesley Wyndham-Pryce!" Wesley called out giddily.
Dawson frowned. He was getting a little bit tired of this. "How about you?" he asked Doyle. Doyle just glared.
"That's Doyle," Angel hiccupped.
"What , doesn't he have a first name?"
Angel looked at Wesley-or, in Wesley's direction. Wesley looked in Angel's direction. They both shrugged.
"FRANNO!" Doyle shouted. "BRANCH!"
He wolfed down the last of the jelly. Dawson stared at him for almost a minute before he turned to the last member of the group.
"Rupert Giles," Giles declared. As the cop wrote it down, he asked, "D-do you have a daughter? Late teens, early twenties?"
"Actually I do," Dawson answered.
"Ah, yes, I thought so," Giles replied, with a Ripper-esque grin. "I recognise the name..."
"Hmm, never heard that one before," Dawson remarked, deadpan, as Giles started laughing at his pitiful attempt to piss off a traffic cop.
"No you should never shove a CRACKER up your ARSE on Hallowe'en," Doyle roared suddenly, "It's not clever, IT'S not funny, some think it's quite obscene..."
"I do NOT believe this is happening," Cordelia muttered.
"Hey," Xander remarked. "Where's Angel?"
They had their answer as, in the background, Angel staggered over to the patrol car and stood there with his back to them and his hands in front of him for quite a while.
"He's not doing what I think he's doing, is he?" Willow asked.
"This just gets better and better!" Xander guffawed.
"Are you all right, sir?" Dawson asked Spike, who was holding his stomach and looking decidedly green. Suddenly he caught sight of Angel. "Hey, hey, hey!"
Angel zipped up his pants and glanced over his shoulder.
"Do you mind? I'd like some privacy!"
"That does it, I'm taking all of these jokers in," Dawson declared. "Eddie, get Laughing Boy out of the gully." He approached Doyle, grabbed his wrists and handcuffed him. Eddie hauled a completely legless Wesley up to the road and made him lean on the bonnet of the patrol car while he handcuffed him. Dawson approached Spike. The vampire gave a final groan and threw up all over him.
"What's the difference between you lot, vump vump,
And a bucket of sick?" Wesley sang, giggling. "The bucket!"
Angel seemed genuinely surprised when Eddie cuffed him. He looked at Doyle, who was being brought over to the patrol car.
"What's happening?"
"They'll never silence our song of freedom!" the half-demon bawled. "Come on! LOOOWWWW, LIEEEEE, DE FIEEELLLDS, OF ATHENRYYYY..."
Angel joined in.
"WHERE ONCE, WE WATCHED, THE SMAAALL FREEBIRDS FLYYY."
"HEY BABY LET THE FREEBIRDS FLY!"
Both were bundled into the car. Spike was cuffed and he and Wesley were shoved into a second car that had just arrived. Giles was last. He was being put into the car with Spike and Wesley when the trio noticed the camera.
"We're on telly!" Wesley shouted giddily. He began to laugh again. "Bottom!"
"Urrrgh..." Spike leaned forward and got sick all over the floor.
"I'm sorry I shagged your mum, Buffy," Giles hiccupped, "but I was just so desperately horny, and she was gagging for it..."
The cops pushed him in and shut the door.
Xander turned off the TV, slightly stunned. Willow and Cordelia looked at Buffy, who was sitting with her face buried in her hands. Slowly, she looked up.
"See if you can scrape together some bail money," she sighed. "We're going down to the station."