Laws of Dysfunction
Summary: during his summer road trip, Xander runs into a few new friends.
Disclaimer: Oh, mighty Corporate Gods and their servants, the Lawyers, I pray to thee to spare me your unwarranted vengeance as I knowingly and willfully utilize your oh-so-brilliant characters and other unmentioned features in this purely sentimental piece of literature and…oh, screw it, just don't sue my ass.
Four Months Later…
"Rise and shine, X-Man!"
This greeting was followed by the sound of a shoe hitting his door. Xander groaned out as the effects of his hangover quickly took hold.
"Damn it, Bart, you've gotta quit waking me up before one," Xander shouted.
"Newsflash, dude," Bart opened the car door, causing Xander to spill out onto the pavement in a drunken heap, "It is one!"
"Ok, ok, I'm up, I'm up," Xander said, using the car to pull himself up, before blinking as he examined his surroundings.
"Ok, how did we wind up on a roof," Xander asked.
His vehicle had, apparently, jumped up from the Las Vegas street and landed on top of the cruddy hotel, where he and Bart had spent the majority of last night partying in.
"There is an answer to that question," Bart said, smiling evilly, "But, I doubt you'd want to hear it."
"…Why," Xander asked, wary but still wanting to know.
Bart said nothing, only pointed towards the car. Xander turned around and looked inside, then involuntarily looked away.
"…Why're there two guys in my car…naked?"
Bart was laughing his ass off as he asked that question, holding onto his side to keep himself steady.
"You should…you should see your face, man," Bart said, struggling to breathe, "But, don't worry…I dragged you outta the hotel room and tossed you in there before you woke up!"
"…I'm gonna kick your ass," Xander said, running at Bart, which lead to a chase through the hotel.
"Ok, and we are down to…seven dollars," Bart said, angrily tossing the box that had once held their food money away.
"You had to gamble, I told you not to gamble," Xander remarked, taking a sip of water from his bottle.
"At least I didn't get us lost in Death Valley," Bart retorted, trying to figure out a way to get money.
"I didn't, you wrecked your van trying to kill that demon," Xander said.
Bart sighed, but said nothing as Xander was right. The two had quickly become best friends after their first encounter with a vampire, or Bart's first encounter with a vampire, he should say. After a month and a half in the bar, the two had saved up enough money to pay for a few nights in the MGM…instead of which, after arriving in Vegas, they'd both blown it on the slots machines and poker. It wasn't that they sucked, far from it, it was more that they got drunk. Xander had, initially, been wary of drinking, but Bart had coaxed him into having a few, which led to a few more, etc.
After that night, the two had been working on getting back on their feet financially. Unfortunately, the two usually ruined any positive influx of cash through partying. The two had begun to hunt vampires as well, mostly for cash, as the average vampire had around two to six hundred dollars on them. The problem was that it was difficult to knock a vampire down without dusting it, which would dust the money. Aside from that, they were trying to get jobs as musicians (Xander could play the guitar pretty well), which was not working out that well.
"Alright, there's an ad wanting a band for a high school dance," Bart said, reading from the paper, "Or a DJ…you know how to be a DJ?"
"Sure…I mean, how hard could it be?"
"We want our deposit back," Xander moaned, "Have crueler words ever been uttered?"
"How hard could it be," Bart snarked as he followed Xander, "I thought you knew what you were doing!"
"When do I ever know what I'm doing," Xander replied.
"…Ok," Bart said, "C'mon, maybe we can hit up a nest and get some cash."
"Alright, we got two thousand dollars," Xander said, smiling as he and Bart enjoyed breakfast, "You and I have got a possible gig next week, we just have to drag up a singer."
"Well, we can sing," Bart and Xander stared at each other for a moment, before saying, "Where're we going to get a singer?"
"No idea," Xander said, chewing his bacon as he stared out the window, watching the people go by.
"We put out a classified ad, we'll get more wannabes than American Idol," Bart said, scratching his head, "What about the karaoke bars? Some of those girls sing pretty good."
"None of them can sing well, you were drunk," Xander remarked, "I dunno, man. We'd have to do so much interviewing, and we don't know any songs."
"Yeah, we do," Bart said, "We know a ton of Guns N' Roses, some Eagles,AC/DC, Metallica, Hell, we even known some Deep Purple."
"Well, none of that matters if we don't have a singer," Xander remarked.
"…This sucks," Bart said, "We finally get some money, and we can't get more because neither of us can sing real well!"
"Well, there's also the fact that the only original song we know is Do the Bartman," Xander said, "Honestly, You're Bad like Michael Jackson?"
"He was cool back then," Bart retorted, "And, just you wait, one day that'll hit number one on the charts!"
"Yeah, in England if it were 1991," Xander replied.
"Man, if only Lease was here," Bart said, "She won a singing contest in Springfield."
"Yeah, well-" Xander stopped, staring out the window for a moment before leaping up and running for the door.
"What the Hell," Bart shouted, running after him.
He turned down the street to follow Xander, who was running faster than he'd ever seen him run. For about two or three blocks, Xander ran, till he finally slowed down and came to a stop.
"Man," Bart panted, leaning down to catch his breath, "What-"
Xander turned around, grabbing Bart up in a fireman's carry as he ran back down the street.
"The Hell," Bart shouted, "Put me down!"
And he did, as soon as they were back at the diner.
"What the Hell is going on," Bart demanded.
"Look, you know about my past in Sunnydale," Xander started, "Do you remember that girl I told you about, the one that snapped and tried to kill everyone?"
"Faith," Bart remembered, "What about her?"
"I just saw her on a Greyhound."