Theme: #19 – Helm
Summary: Summer has to drive Dillon and Flynn home. Dillon is not happy about this.
Word Count: 409

A.N: I had no idea what I was going to do for this prompt but the end of 'Dome Dolls' gave me the idea.

Disclaimer: I'm just playing with them for a little while. I don't actually own any of the characters.

"Oh come on, Dillon! Just give me the keys!" Summer crossed her arms and frowned. He refused yet again.

"You are in no fit state to drive, now give me the keys!" Each word she spoke was clear and precise. Dillon swayed on the spot, his breath heavy with the smell of alcohol. Flynn was dozing against his shoulder, drooling by the looks of it, though despite his intoxicated state, he had had the sense to call Summer before Dillon decided to drive them back to The Garage.

"I told you that you were never to drive my car again. Ever!" He shouted the last word to the sky, his arms outstretched. Summer shushed him, frustrated, and took his display as an opportunity to grab his car keys.

"Hey!" Dillon cried, looking from his now empty hand to Summer. "Those are mine!" He frowned at her, though any threat he was trying to convey with his eyes was pointless due to the glaze they had taken on and him lacking the ability to focus them. Summer was paying him no attention as she proceeded to guide Flynn into the back seat of The Fury. When she returned to Dillon, his arms were folded and he had a stance that told her she would have a tough time moving him.

"You are not driving my car." He said decisively as Summer approached him.

"Well I either drive you home or you walk. It's your choice." Summer challenged him with a smirk. He called her bluff and agreed to walking. She stepped in front of him, blocking his way and trying to steer him back towards the car. During this tussle, Dillon got a hold of his keys again, earning a growl of irritation from the female ranger. He grinned stupidly at her and she rolled her eyes.

"I promise it'll make it back in one piece. Not a scratch on it." Summer grasped Dillon's powerful upper arms, making sure he made no move towards the vehicle. Dillon considered her promise for a minute, looking from her sober and sincere face to the car he valued so much with a conflicted expression. He relented and handed over the keys to his baby. He was allowing her to get behind the wheel of his car, something which he would never hear the end of if she decided to tell anyone or if Flynn woke up.

"Not a scratch…or you will be sorry."