Setting: Late season 2 for Logan just to be safe. Draco? After book Five certainly.
Characters: Draco, Logan, Ginny, Goyle
Word count: 830
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Summary: Logan Echolls and Draco Malfoy walk into a bar….
Author's Notes: Written for spankerella’s birthday. A tad late, but hopefully as requested.
Ah, those magical words that thrill the heart of any student, whether it be an official supervised trip from the college or school, or several of your friends hustling you out to the car for a journey into the unknown. London was a bit of a surprise but hey, when you hang round with guys with this amount of money to burn, you tend to keep your passport up to date anyway.
But after all that, there’s only so long you can hang around with Dick before you start wanting to get away. Which was why Logan Echolls ended up in a pub in the back streets of the West End, trying to chat up this cute redhead.
Of course, the cute redhead had a boyfriend/protector (even if he wouldn’t admit to it), and once the ritual posturings on either side were short circuited by Ginny’s quick knee to both groins, they retired hurt to the sidelines, and proceeded to drink the pain away.
Draco Malfoy, it turned out, was just as much of an arrogant bastard as Logan Echolls.
~ + ~ + ~
“Now, my father…. He sucks. Suck, suck suckity suck. If, indeed, he could suck any harder, he would be a black hole of suckiness.”
“Oh, for Merlins sake,” snapped Draco, rolling his eyes, “You bloody mug..-Americans and your constant need to define yourself around your relationship with your fathers. I mean, my father’s in prison, but do I go on and on about it?”
“Actually, Draco….” said Goyle, thoughtfully, but decided better of it when a flicked peanut shot past his nose. “I’ll be at the bar,” he said, and left the two of them to it.
Logan drunkenly managed to point his finger towards Draco. “You know,” he slurred, “For someone from the UK version of the Amish, you’re picking up way too much from television.” He paused. “And my father’s in prison too. So!”
Draco studied the muggle potion they were calling vodka. From potatoes? If only this had come up in Snape’s classes, Hogwarts might well have passed in a much happier daze. “Eh?” he said, looking up before Logan’s remarks reached him. “Oh yeah,” he beamed, “These morning chat shows are so educational about you muggles.”
He leant forward and whispered loudly in Logan’s general direction, “There was this one woman who had been sleeping with her husband’s brother. Oh yes. I was quite shocked.”
Logan stared at him. Was he having a laugh, or was he really Amish?
Draco sipped at the vodka contentedly again. “Still need to work out what a chav or a hoodie is though,” he said thoughtfully, and hiccupped.
“Draco, Draco, Draco….” smiled Logan, an evil light lurking at the back of his eyes, “You really should start watching Jerry Springer. Great man, deals with all the ordinary, standard, day to day stuff. Good primer for you – real 101 stuff.”
Draco nodded. “I’ll do that,” he promised, “Us sons of jailbirds must stick together.”
“Aww, jeez,” swore Logan, and slumped further down into the booth. “Speak of the bloody devil…” He nodded towards the bar, where the television had started showing an Aaron Echolls film. “Even in bloody England, I can’t get away from the bastard.”
Draco peered towards it. “That’s your dad?”
“On the tv?”
“…….You must have got your looks from your mother.”
Logan stared at him. Draco sneered back in his best fashion. There was one tense moment, and both guys started laughing hard together. “Yeah, you’re an okay guy Draco,” smiled Logan eventually.
Draco waved it off idly. “Eh, don’t tell everyone – it’ll ruin my reputation.”
He stared at the screen again. “Fairly good looking, famous and rich I assume. Must have been fun taking the girls home to meet the family.”
Logan winced. “Oh, you have no idea.”
“My father,” confided Draco, “Was a cult member.”
“My father slept with my girlfriend.”
“My father tried to bring about the rebirth of evil.”
“My father then killed my girlfriend!”
“My father carried out an attack on the ministry here in London!”
They stopped short, the increasing tension building higher, glaring at each other. “My father…,” said Logan through gritted teeth, “Gave me the most annoying slutty sister ever.”
And the tension broke.
“No, no sisters,” said Draco mildly, smiling once more. “But he did insist on me getting a matching tattoo at one point.”
“Fathers suck,” remarked Logan, picking up his beer.
“Fathers suck,” said Draco, picking up the remains of his vodka.
“Fathers suck!” they both yelled, crashing their drinks together before emptying them.
Logan burped. Draco hiccupped.
“You burp like an old lady,” sneered Logan, “Now get the next round in, willya.”
“As if!” sneered Draco in return. “If you insult the honour of the Malfoys, you had best expect a challenge, sir – and besides, I got the last ones.”
And over at the bar, Goyle shook his head sadly. He had a bad feeling the night was only just beginning….