Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters, unfortunately.
Jareth followed the map in Giles' mind and found himself in a dark, noisy, smoke-filled room. The first thing that came to mind was that it was some kind of trap, that somehow Bothvar had intercepted his transport. Then he heard the music, and the terrible, terrible toneless voice that accompanied it, and decided he must be in hell. As his eyes adjusted to the light, he turned to the side looking for Giles, only to have to rough hands laid upon his silk jacket.
"Hey, buddy, can't you read?" said the voice that apparently belonged to the hands. One of them let go and pointed to a neon lit sign on a nearby wall which read No Dimensional Transportation Inside the Club, Please.
Jareth read the sign and, unimpressed, looked back to the owner of the hand that still had hold of his jacket. He had to look up, because the man stood at least a foot taller than the Goblin King. He was also blue with a shaggy mane of red fur than hung off his head and over his shoulders. The witty rebuke that had been on Jareth's lips died immediately, and instead all he could say was "What are you?"
"I'm a Cavlor Demon, prissy pants, what the hell are you?" the cyan hued beast responded.
A demon? Jareth's eyes widened. He raised his hand to summon a crystal, intending to send the demon to the bog when a hand reached out and caught him. "Not here." Giles whispered tightly in his ear. To the demon Giles said "We're, uh, terribly sorry old chap. We're from out of town, you see, and didn't know that particular rule. I assure you it won't happen again."
The large blue demon nodded and said sharply, "See that it doesn't."
As he walked away, Jareth wheeled on Giles. "What are you doing? He's a demon!"
"Yes, and this place is a sort of neutral zone, where demons and non demons come together peacefully. Look around you." Jareth did as he was told and realized that he was surrounded by creatures of every shape, size, color, and facial hair configuration, with a few humans thrown in here and there to spice things up, apparently. If Jareth had been familiar with Star Wars, he would have been reminded of the Mos Eisley Cantina. Unfortunately George Lucas had never been to the underground, so the sight was a complete shock to him.
"Isn't this against your code as a Watcher, Giles?" he asked.
Giles pulled off his glasses and began cleaning them on his shirt tail. "Well, yes, I suppose." He said inspecting them carefully, "but I won't tell the council if you don't" he finished, flashing Jareth a brilliant smile and putting the glasses back on. "Besides, where else was I supposed to take you? You wouldn't exactly fit in at the local sports pub."
Giles gestured at Jareth's hair and clothing. Jareth opened his mouth to protest, but was cut off by a strange voice from behind him. It was masculine, but with a strangely feminine edge to it. "Well, well, well," the voice said. "I heard there was a commotion; I should have known you were here, Ripper." A green hand was thrust between Giles and Jareth, and Giles grasped it in a friendly greeting. Jareth looked up from the hand to see its owner was a green skinned creature with fiery red eyes and small black horns protruding from his forehead. Even odder than this was the bright orange leisure suit he was wearing. Jareth smirked.
"Its just Giles now, I'm afraid. Ripper has been retired." Giles said smiling. He gestured to toward Jareth, about to introduce him, but the green skinned man cut him off, his eyes wide and his jaw agape.
"Prince Jareth!" the green man gasped. "Your Highness, what brings you to our little neck of the woods?"
Jareth cocked an eyebrow at the green stranger, cursing that he couldn't read him the way he read humans. "Do I know you?" he said.
The green man laughed. "Picture me with much longer hair, fur instead of linen, and a club in my hand."
Jareth looked at him closely, and suddenly his eyes widened in recognition. "Krevlornswath of the Deathwok Clan! I haven't seen you in centuries! I thought surely you had been executed for your cowardice by now."
"Oh no, I managed to avoid that for years before finally finding my way here. By the way, it's just Lorne now. And I see your fashion sense had not improved with time." Lorne informed him.
"Nor has yours." Said Jareth, smirking again at the leisure suit. "And I'm not Prince Jareth anymore, I'm King Jareth."
"Really?" Lorne said, and then his face darkened at the implications. "Oh...I'm sorry, Jareth." Jareth waved off the condolence and turned back to Giles, who was squinting his eyes most peculiarly.
"So you two know each other I take it?" He said.
"Yes, we're from the same hell dimension." Lorne answered, smiling.
"Hell dimension?" Jareth asked, clearly offended.
"It's a human thing, my goblin amigo. They call everything that isn't Earth a hell dimension." Lorne answered.
Jareth looked accusatorily at Giles. "And why, I wonder, do humans think they're so special?"
"I've often wondered that myself." Giles said.
"Well anyway, it's good to see you again, both of you." Lorne said graciously, and spread his arms wide. "Welcome to Caritas, my little slice of heaven." Just then a scaly creature with spikes on its head took the stage and began to sing…badly.
Jareth winced. "Heaven?" he asked.
Lorne put a finger in the ear closest to the stage and answered "Well, it's an improvement from my people." He said.
"Lorne," Jareth replied, "I've met bog slime that was an improvement over your people."
Giles paled at the apparent insult but Lorne smiled brightly. "Thank you, Jareth, you always did understand!" He clapped Giles and Jareth on the back and began ushering them to the back of the room. "Come, we've got centuries of catching up to do!" Passing the bar he tapped it with the palm of his hand. "Miguel, I'll be in my office. Bring me a sea breeze and keep em' commin."
"Yes, sir." The bartender answered. "Would your friends care for anything?"
"A bottle of twelve year old scotch for Ripper here, the finest we have," he looked at Giles, who smiled happily, "And…" he hesitated, looking at Jareth in consternation. An idea came to him and his face brightened. "And a bottle of Cuervo Gold for my friend the Goblin King."
"Right away sir!" the bartender said as they began walking again.
"Tequila?" Giles asked.
"It's the closest thing I've found in this world to Goblin Moonshine." Lorne answered. "Hey Jareth, remember that time we got into your Father's stash?" he asked motioning for them to sit in a booth in the darkest corner of the club.
"How could I forget?" Jareth chuckled, "We were so drunk we couldn't stand up straight! Then we heard mother coming down the hall to my chambers and we panicked."
"You tried to teleport us out to the Labyrinth, but you missed and plopped us right down in the throne room while your father was holding court!" Lorne howled with laughter at the memory. Even Jareth was laughing, and Giles couldn't help but join in.
"What did your father do?" Giles asked?
"I thought surely he would kill us." Jareth said, smiling as the drinks were put on the table. Lorne began opening bottles and pouring as Jareth finished. "Instead, he cleared everyone out of the throne room and gave us a stern lecture on the evils of drinking."
"He sounds very responsible." Giles said, taking a sip of his scotch and sighing blissfully.
"Ye," Lorne said, "But then he summoned another bottle of moonshine and three glasses!" Lorne and Jareth broke into peals of laughter, and Giles tried to picture the Goblin King when he was young and life had not yet turned him bitter.
"Do you remember what he said was the most important thing to remember about drinking?" Jareth asked, wiping tears from his eyes.
Lorne mimicked a deep accented voice. "Remember boys, never, ever transport drunk…"
"You could end up headfirst in the Bog of Eternal Stench!" they finished together, their laughter almost, but unfortunately not completely, drowning out the crescendo of the spiky demon's song.
Lorne sobered even as he took a sip of his seabreeze. "Your father was a great man." He said.
Jareth nodded, "One of the greatest men I ever knew." He answered, taking a sip of his Tequila. He smiled, "You're right, it does taste like Goblin Moonshine."
A/N: I know this is a short chapter, but it was so much fun! Okay, for all you folks out there who are upset that Angel couldn't join us, I gave you Lorne instead. Sometimes I like him better anyway, he was certainly funnier. This chapter was meant to be purely for fun, and because I wanted to expand on what I perceive to be a potentially beautiful friendship between Giles and Jareth. I tried to write Lorne so that if you're not a Buffy or Angel fan you would still enjoy him, and if you are a Buffy or Angel fan please don't flame me for taking liberties with his origins here and there. I said at the outset this would be slightly AU. I'm a little disappointed that I only got three reviews on the last chapter, I'm hoping for more this time around.
Solea: You're so right, even as I was writing it I was thinking how very rude it was, lol. I hope she forgives him too.
Theshadowcat: I'm glad you enjoyed it. Joyce was, I felt, a terribly underused asset to the show. I couldn't resist giving her some of the best moments in that chapter.
CleverLass: Thank you so much for the wonderful review! I'm glad you find everyone to be in character, I can't tell you how many lines I've written and rewritten in order to keep them that way. I hope you continue to enjoy the story.
Thanks everyone who has read and enjoyed, and especially to those of you who take the time to review. Hint hint, see the little box down there?
