Title: Stroke Me a Nipper, I'll Be Back For Tennis 1/20
Series: Tales of the Kipperverse
Author: Gileswench
Contact: gileswench@yahoo.com
Date: 5/26/05
Spoilers: Through Graduation, then everything goes a bit cockeyed.
General spoilers for the series Red Dwarf. Specific spoilers for the episode Dimension Jump.
Summary: A strange and continuing adventure wherein the members of the Red Dwarf crew arrive on Earth and meet the Scoobies.
Rating: FRT
Pairing: Buffy/Giles, Xander/Anya, Oz/Drusilla, Joyce/Kryten, Amy/?
Category: Sillyfic. Very, very sillyfic. With a side of disturbing. And a dollop of romance.
Distribution: If you've had my permission in the past, you have it now. All others, ask and ye shall receive.
Feedback: Constructive criticism always welcome. Praise abjectly sought.
Disclaimer: It all belongs to Joss, Mutant Enemy, etc., etc., etc. I just let them have all the fun Joss won't. I own nothing except my twisted mind which you really don't want. Please don't sue. Oh, yeah, and Red Dwarf isn't mine, either. If it was, Kryten would be very, very frightened.
Notes: This comes courtesy of a very old challenge set by Joanna for sillyfic. Among the requirements are: an improbable crossover, an improbable romantic pairing, Anya, a Star Trek reference, a man in women's clothing, a gummi creature other than bears or worms, a talking computer with a personality, the concept of alternate universes, and Giles in a major role. She further wishes a statement as to assumptions made in the fic to avoid fanwanking. See below.
Notes 2: Assume that nothing beyond S3 of BtVS has happened. In fact, this takes place during the summer after Graduation. Assume that Anya has come back or never left. Either way, she wants Xander and she's got him. Assume that sometime shortly after Graduation, Willow and Oz broke up and he is now dating Drusilla, though nobody quite gets the attraction. Assume that if Spike is ever in town, he will be sans chip, sans soul, and will never, ever have either one under any circumstances. But he's not in this one. Assume that Giles and Buffy have upped their training schedule and she now spends a lot of time hanging around his place. Assume that Holly is the male version.
Assume that Rimmer is a hard light hologram. Assume that little of social or literary merit is likely to take place in this series. That is all.
Dedication: To Joanna for breeding this truly psychotic plotbunny, and to my beloved Twisted Sister Fabrisse who receives all blame and all praise for the fact that this is going to be yet another smegging series. When I get to Hell for this one, I'll save you a seat at my table. Fabrisse would also like to point out that she is in no way responsible for Lister's shorts. Special thanks to Gail for the quick and amazingly painless beta.
Dave Lister emerged from his green, insectiod-shaped spaceship. He looked around at the strange scene. Lifting his wrist, he consulted his watch.
"So where are we, Hol?"
A bland face appeared where the digital read-out ought to be. If there had been shoulders visible, Dave thought he might have shrugged.
"It's definitely a planet," Holly averred. "I can tell you that right off."
"Yeah, but what planet?"
"You wouldn't want to guess, would you?"
"No. Just tell me where the smeg I am."
"We could play twenty questions," the computer suggested. "I'll even give you a hint: it's bigger than a breadbox."
"Yeah, I had that one worked out on me own, thanks."
Dave switched off the computer and took another look around. The scene looked like something out of a history book - the sort he'd lovingly defaced at school. Back then, he'd mostly drawn Hitler mustaches on all the women and given all the male figures hairy palms to represent an overindulgence in self-abuse.
"Hang on a minute! This looks like Earth! But where? And when?"
Holly blinked back on.
"See? I knew you'd suss it out," he said smugly.
With a heartfelt roll of his eyes, Dave switched the computer off again. He looked around yet again.
"Where are all the people?" he wondered. "It can't be completely deserted, can it?"
Just then, a figure appeared. It was about the size of a small man and covered in fur. It had very, very sharp-looking teeth...and a lot of them. The creature sniffed the air nastily as it neared Dave. Lister backed up against a wall.
"Nice doggy," he soothed the advancing beast. "Please, please tell me you just want to hump my leg."
The creature snarled in return. It crouched. Dave tried to back up further yet, but the wall refused to cooperate. He screwed his eyes shut and waited for the end.
It didn't come.
Instead, there came the soft whiz of a projectile through the air and the slight whimper of the beast as he was felled by it. Dave cautiously opened one eye. Before him, he saw two young girls. One was blonde. The other was a redhead toting a tranq gun almost as big as she was.
"Got him!" she crowed.
"Good shot, Will," the other replied. She turned her attention to the stranger. "You okay?"
Lister nodded. He didn't yet feel certain any sound he made wouldn't be a girlie, Rimmeresque scream.
"You're sure?" the blonde asked. "'Cause you look a little freaked."
"You think he's freaked?" came a small voice from Lister's wrist. "I nearly wet myself."
"You don't have a bladder, Hol," Lister told his watch.
"Exactly," the computer said with a wise nod.
"Who are you and why do you keep talking to your arm that way?" the blonde asked.
"Well, who are you and what did you do to the great slobberbeast?"
"That's not a slobberbeast," the redhead said. "That's my ex-boyfriend. And we only tranquilized him till we can get him back in his cage. His new girlfriend keeps letting him out."
"You dated Cujo?"
"He's not like that all the time. Most of the time he's human - or at least a musician."
"So he's...a werewolf?"
The girls looked at one another with raised eyebrows. They turned back to Dave and nodded.
"Yup," the blonde said. "That's about the size of it."
"Brutal."
"So," the blonde continued, "want to help us get Lassie home?"
"Yeah, why not?"
The blonde girl took hold of the werewolf by the shoulders, Dave took its back legs. The redhead shouldered her weapon and led the way.
*****
Giles growled in frustration at Willow's laptop. He'd been trying to search the internet for information on a museum in Brussels. He resisted the urge to toss the offending machine through his front window.
"Brussels! Brussels!" he yelled. "I don't want bloody porn sites written in Urdu!"
He'd barely managed to find his way back to a less compromising screen when the door burst open.
"Hey Giles!" Buffy called. "We brought our stray home. Oh, and we picked up a helpful stranger."
Giles slammed the laptop shut and glared at his Slayer.
"You do realize that yours is a secret as well as a sacred calling, don't you?"
"Oz is heavier than he looks," she shrugged.
"Besides," Willow added, "he's not from around here."
"What difference does that make?"
"He wafts from star to star, bringing destruction with him," crooned a voice from the shadows. "And now he brings my doggie home to Mummy."
"Yes, thank you, Drusilla," Giles said wearily. "Perhaps someone would be so kind as to let me know who this man is and where he's from?"
"Lister, Dave," the man in question said, extending his hand. "I'm from the future, off the mining ship, Red Dwarf. Well, Starbug just now. Holly and me came down as a scouting party."
"And Holly would be...?" Giles asked as he took the proffered hand.
"Ship's computer with an IQ of six thousand," came a tinny voice just above Lister's wrist.
"Really? S-six thousand?"
"I wouldn't worry, Brainman," Buffy said blithely, "Nobody can find the obscure like you."
"I resent that remark," the computer said. "I can be as obscure as the next aardvark."
"Computer senility," Dave whispered conspiratorially. "He's all right most of the time, though."
"You say you're the scout party," Giles said. "What of the rest of the crew. How many are you?"
"Well, there's me, Rimmer - he's an insane hologram, Cat who's...a cat, only bigger and more human-shaped, and Kryten. He's a Series Four Thousand Mechanoid and me mate. We've been trying to get back to Earth for six million years. Now, here we are. And only a couple hundred years before I was born. Brutal."
Willow watched Giles massage the bridge of his nose.
"I'll make some tea," she suggested.
"I'll tie up our stray doggie," Buffy said. "Bathtub, Giles?"
She dragged the unconscious wolf behind her.
"If you must," he sighed. "Just be sure to draw the shower curtain. And somebody escort Drusilla out of here. It isn't my turn to watch her."
"Where's Xander?" Willow asked from the kitchenette.
"Off with Anya. I begged them not to tell me what they were up to, but she did. Repeatedly. In appalling detail."
"I guess I'm on vampduty tonight, then," she sighed. "Xander always sticks me with it on wolfie nights."
"We bay at the moon together and the stars all dance a happy jig," Drusilla crooned. She stopped her twirling suddenly in front of Lister. "My Oz is soft and furry and violent. What are you?"
"Ehm, not so furry as him and a lot less inclined to eat people, thanks very much."
"I could make it so you long for the kill as much as we do," the vampiress crooned as she ran her fingers through Lister's dreadlocks. "I could make you crave blood. Would you like that?"
Giles yanked Drusilla away.
"He's our guest," he said firmly. "No turning him. Willow, would you kindly remove this creature?"
The redhead took aim with her tranq gun. The vampiress hissed and slid into game face, but made no move to avoid the dart.
"I don't like this game anymore," she whined as the drugs took effect.
A second later, she slid to the floor and Willow dragged her out none too gently.
"Tea?" Giles offered.
"You wouldn't have a lager, would you?" Lister asked.
"Do you have someplace to stay?" his host asked as he rummaged in his refrigerator for the requested beer. At last he found one and handed it over.
"Ta. I guess I could just nip back up to the Dwarf, but I've been looking for Earth for six million years. I'd like to kip down here on the planet tonight, if I could. Have a curry, watch some zero-g football, hang with some real Earth people. Like that."
He popped the top on his beer and allowed the foam to spill onto the immaculate floor. He didn't notice the way his host's faced went pale. Giles did his best to find something to latch onto in his distress.
"Zero-g football...? I'm afraid I don't recognize the sport."
He sidled surreptitiously toward the roll of paper towels he knew he had in the kitchen. Dave continued to spill beer on the floor. He was now chugging the entire can in one go, fermented hops sluicing down his chin as he drank. Buffy came out of the bathroom and watched curiously. At last, Dave finished the beer, upended the can on top of his head, and belched contentedly.
"Got another?" he asked, a chipmunk smile gracing his face.
"No, no, I'm afraid not," Giles said quickly. "So, back to the ship tonight, eh? Well, I expect you'll find your footing soon enough. In the meantime, please go elsewhere."
"He's been in outer space for six million years, Giles. Can't he stay here tonight?"
He wanted to say no. He was desperate to say no. But damn it all if Buffy's eyes hadn't gone wide and sad. Any moment now her lip would tremble and he'd be lost. He struggled to recall the mess this complete stranger had just made of his floor, the appalling concept of a computer in a watchstrap spouting surrealism at him, the website he'd never be able to search for if there was anyone else on the premises.
Buffy's lip quivered.
"Oh, all right," Giles sighed miserably. "He can stay."
Buffy squealed happily and gave her Watcher a gentle, but enthusiastic squeeze on the arm. She mentally berated herself for taking such a flimsy excuse to touch him, but she couldn't help herself. Since Angel left, she'd been discovering just how nice it was to spend time with Giles, who could walk in sunlight without catching fire and exploding into dust. She'd decided that was a very attractive attribute in a man.
She gave in to temptation and squeezed his arm again.