Reviews of Deep Pockets Don't Always Count for MuchDisclaimer:
Don’t own or claim rights to Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Stargate SG1~~~~~
Jack wandered over to the younger man, keeping a weather eye on their politely scrapping friends. He smirked, and settled back against the wall. “Name’s Jack,” he offered.
The man beside him grinned. “Xander,” he offered, complete with outstretched hand. “Seems like you’re taking a risk here,” he added.
“Oh, Danny’ll bitch for a bit, but it’s not like he can say anything,” Jack grinned. “He’s having fun, why can’t I?”
“Yeah, because he’ll be thinking rationally about your betrayal,” Xander scoffed.
“Hey!” Jack scowled. “No betraying here. Just killing time with … the aide of the other guy, and it’s not like your guy won’t get into a snit by you talking to me.”
“Plus he’s my boss,” Xander nodded placidly. “Of course, if he gets too snippy, I’ll just sic the girls on him.”
“That sounds … painful,” Jack frowned thoughtfully.
Xander smiled. “Well, there’s Buffy, who’s like a daughter to him – she’s a real So-Cal Princess – and Willow, who’ll babble rings around him while programming his DVD and threatening to burn his records, while not telling him it’s to disc, and Dawn, who really should have been here today, since she’s the one better than any of the rest of us at languages that have ceased to be, but wanted to go shoe shopping with Buffy.”
Jack blinked. “Did you breathe during that?”
Xander snorted. “Please: that’s nothing. I grew up with Willow, and we used to have competitions! So … you’re some kind of special, high-security group, I hear.”
“It’s classified,” Jack smirked.
Xander chuckled. “If you have to ask, you don’t have the clearance?”
“Precisely,” Jack nodded. “Uh, same thing goes for you guys, too, huh?”
“Yep,” Xander nodded. “Though I hear you guys have the same un-friends we do.”
“Un-friends,” Jack considered.
“The National Idiots Directorate,” Xander smirked.
Jack laughed out at that, and the pair of them quickly checked their battling colleagues’ reactions, before grinning at one another. “I’m taking that one,” Jack noted. “Next time I see Kinsey or one of his goons, I’m definitely using it.”
“Feel free,” Xander waved dismissively, “anything to share the pain. They piss us off too badly, though, and you won’t have to worry about them anymore.”
Jack turned to frown at the younger man. “Yeah?”
“We have … ways and means,” Xander smirked. “Let’s just say: you’ll know if he pisses us off that badly.”
Jack grinned. “Maybe you should give me your card. You know, so I know where to send the flowers.”
It was Xander’s turn to laugh that time, and he handed over his business card between snickers. “Feel free to call and vent, too, if you want.”
Jack grunted. “I may just take you up on that.” He looked up to find that a salesman had finally intervened in the polite bloodbath to inform both men that the book was no longer for sale, both of them having been outbid by person or persons unspecified. “Well,” he turned to offer his hand, “it was nice knowing you.”
Xander shook the proffered hand. “‘Half a league, half a league, half a league onward,’” he offered with a half-grin.
“‘All in the valley of Death rode the six hundred,’” Jack finished, rolling his eyes. “Hopefully it won’t be that bad.”
Xander glanced over at Giles, who was scowling fiercely then at Daniel, who was wearing a similar expression. “You think?”
“Hey!” Jack retorted. “That’s my line.”
Xander chuckled again, and walked off, waving his farewell.