Disclaimer: I can't claim this...I just can't
A/N: I'm not sure where this came from, but it's funny.
Ziggy was officially convinced that Flynn had eyes in the back of his head, a conviction that was about to be reinforced, if Ziggy was right, in 5…4…3…2…1… "Ziggy," Flynn said calmly from where he was chopping apples for yet another smoothie; "if you touch my fruit, I will have to kill you."
Ziggy, perched on a stool beside the fruit bowl pulled his hand back and grinned at Flynn, "I wasn't going to do anything, Flynn, I just wanted to see if you had eyes in the back of your head."
Flynn tossed a grin over his shoulder, "That would be telling, Ziggy."
Dillon, seated at the end of the bar with his nose in a book snorted, "He's watching you through the reflection over there," he said, indicating one of the old computer screens; "Besides, you've been doing this all afternoon, it's a bit predictable." As Dillon flipped a page in his book he was clearly indifferent to Flynn's half-hearted glare.
Ziggy shrugged, "It's something to do while Doc and Summer are training." He tapped his fingers on the bar and wondered what they would do if he just got a notepad and pencil and started sketching right there. He didn't move, because he wasn't curious enough to offer that sort of insight to the three men, but still, he distracted himself enough that he was startled by a loud, echoing bang from behind him.
"Well," Scott said, leaning on the hood of the battered military jeep he'd pushed into the Garage with Flynn's help earlier that day, "if you're so desperate, there is something to be done."
"Sorry," Ziggy said, waving his hand at Scott "I make it a point not to volunteer. Yup, that's my rule, 'never volunteer."
"Didn't say you were volunteering," Scott replied, walking over to the bar, "Said it was something you need to do. Besides, you stole that from the military."
"I did not," Ziggy protested, "I've never met someone in the military before I met you. And I didn't forget to wash the dishes, and hey, I didn't break anything when I did it, either," Ziggy replied, "and I did my share of the laundry." He shot a look at Dillon, but the black ranger was steadily ignoring them.
"Not a chore," Scott said. He leaned against the bar and smiled, "You need to get a Corinth driver's license."
"No I don't," Ziggy replied; he tried to keep himself relaxed as a deep seated dread filled him, "besides, I can't pass a driving test."
"We're going to help you," Flynn said before starting the blender. After a bit he turned it off, "Sorry; anyway, you and I are going to go driving this afternoon. We'll see just how bad you are."
"You really don't want to do that," Ziggy replied. "this is a really bad idea." He looked to Dillon for support, just as the black ranger spoke up.
"What, can't you drive?" Dillon asked.
"Oh I can drive, never doubt that." Ziggy said, masking the faint feeling of betrayal he felt. Wasn't Dillon supposed to take his side against Scott and Flynn? "I just don't do well on driving tests. I failed five before…"
"Four," Scott said, "you failed four tests."
"Technically five, the instructor was in the hospital when Venjix attacked and never sent in the paperwork for a fifth fail." Ziggy replied. "Why can't I just ride with Dillon, or you, or Flynn? That seems to be working just fine right now."
"Dr K said you needed one, incase something happened, so you are getting a license." Scott replied. "I wouldn't cross her, Ziggy. She can be very insistent if she wants you to do something and you don't."
Flynn set a glass before Ziggy, "Drink up; we're going to be hitting the road pretty soon."
Ziggy shook his head, "I'll be back," he said, getting up and heading for the stairs.
It took Flynn threatening him to get Ziggy into the jeep, but he did so, and it was with an exaggerated care that Flynn got in beside him. "This is no joke," Ziggy muttered, "I'm worse than you can imagine."
"Just drive," Flynn ordered.
Dillon leaning against the trunk of his car watched as Ziggy started the jeep to a crazy number of backfires. He glanced at Scott, "Is that normal?" He asked.
"For the jeep, yeah," Scott replied. "Flynn and I have decided that it's possessed."
An awful shriek filled the air and both men looked at the jeep. Ziggy had run it up against the door on his way out, and the shattering of glass said that the mirror had paid the price. "Well, that's promising," Dillon said, straightening up, "I hope you weren't too attached to that jeep."