Who Whatting How with Huh? by Spikez_tart

Chapter #1 - Someone or Something

============================================================================================== DISCLAIMER: Josh’s characters, Josh’s stories, Josh’s money. I get the Spuffy Fun CHARACTERS: Spike, Buffy, Dawn, Willow, Xander, Giles, Glory, Ben, Wedgy Chalk the Regurgitating Frovolax Demon and The Trio - Buffybot parts supplied by robotstore.com Woo and Hoo - We're Back! Before we were so rudely interrupted, I'd posted as far as Chapter 4, but since it takes about an hour per chapter and the nice folks at VISA said I had to pay my bill today, I will have to work up to this slowly. This story is dedicated to the beloved mrmonkeybottoms and that fine Buffybot story, The Whacky Adventures of Spike and the Buffybot at www.allaboutspike.com/fic.html?id=254 If you haven’t read it, cruise on over (after you’ve read this of course!) and laugh till you wet your pants. Be sure to give her a big SWAK for me. Special thanks to the Faboo nmcil for this excellent banner. If you haven’t checked out her excellent Spuffy and other work, you can see it in glorious color right here: whedonworld ============================================================================================== Chapter 1 – Someone or Something Spike punched his fist into the trapdoor leading from the sewer into the Magic Box. “What you did, for me, and Dawn ... that was real, Spike. I won’t forget it, Spike. Bint.” The hatch door banged open and he climbed into the basement. He shouldn’t have banged the door open. If Buffy was upstairs, she’d come running in a flash to see what or who caused the rumpus. Too late. He hurt. Not as bad as two days ago when the Poufter Twins, Watcher and Harris, dumped him back in his crypt after being thumped royally by Glory the Slut Goddess, but bad. His left eye was still swollen shut, two ribs were busted and the hole Glory gouged in his liver was nowhere near healed. He’d dragged himself through the sewers, even though it was nighttime, because he was in no shape to fight off any of the dozens of vampires, demons and other standard issue supernatural enemies he’d made since he’d started fighting with the Slayer and loving the little tart instead of spending every day and night plotting her demise, as any self-respecting vampire would do. Only a sense of overwhelming horniness kept him from feeling deep, deep shame. Princess Goldilocks stopped by his crypt with a couple of bags of pig’s blood the morning after he’d received Glory’s ferocious beating, then promptly and completely forgot all about him. Not that healing on pig’s blood was going to cut it, but she might have kept up the visits to the sick and infirm, namely himself, for at least a day or two. Worse than the pain, he’d been lonely, sitting in his crypt watching the television. “Ungrateful bitch.” He checked the shelf where the moonweed plant was kept in a sealed glass jar. He needed some to speed along his healing. He pinched off a handful of the best top leaves, folded them into a scrap of paper and tucked them into his coat pocket. He popped another leaf into his mouth. The head rush from the leaf made him stumble backwards into a tall, draped object. He ate another leaf and lifted the drape. Under the sheet, he found his most prized possession. Buffybot stood with her head quirked to one side and her eyes glazed. “What have they done to you, darling?” They hadn’t tossed her in the nearest landfill, which he’d expected. They’d left her in the basement and forgotten all about her. Well, he hadn’t forgotten about her. She was his property, extorted out of that nit, Warren, fair and square and Spike wanted her back. He missed her, even loved her a bit for her own cheery robot self. He snapped his fingers in front of her face. “Gits forgot to plug her in. Battery must be dead.” He searched around the junk, swatted away the mummy’s hand that pranced across the work table and located the charging cord. He plugged in the robot and waited. Buffybot blinked her eyes and righted her head slowly. The light on her leg flashed to show her battery charging. He snapped his fingers again. “Buffy? Wakey, wakey.” The bot didn’t respond. “Hells, bells, I can’t give her any instructions. No telling what trouble she’ll get up to on her own. If you can hear me, luv, when you get yourself charged up, go to my crypt.” He smoothed her hair and straightened her blouse. He gave her a kiss, but her lips felt flat and rubbery. “Not as good as Other Buffy, but you’ll do.” Buffybot made no response. He patted her butt and was about to push off back through the sewers, when he heard Buffy, the real flesh and bone and tasty blood Buffy, walking around on the floor above and yapping. “I need help. A fighting companion,” Buffy said. “I need more muscle if I’m going to protect Dawn from Glory. You saw what she did to Spike.” Spike heard the scrape of a knife on wood. Right bastard Harris loved nothing better than to sharpen up pointy sticks for Buffy. Probably printing out Spike’s name on a plastic strip with one of those poxy labelmaker machines to attach to a big, fat, lethal stake. “Yeah, Spike was whupped,” Xander said. “I hate Spike and I felt sorry for Spike. I don’t want to feel sorry for Spike.” Spike snorted. “Your fault I got caught by the Slutbag’s minions.” If Lunkhead Xander hadn’t been distracting Spike and butting his huge nose into Spike’s personal business over the matter of the Buffybot, Spike would have heard the scabs coming and scarpered, saving himself a beating and a near dusting by the Slayer. “I don’t know who you’re going to find,” Giles said. “I suppose we could call Angel.” A fierce, hot wave of jealousy surged through Spike and shook him with fury. The last thing he wanted was Tall, Dark and Cliffhead hanging around, messing up his chances with Buffy. Spike picked up a bottle of phony newt eyes and tossed it at the nearest wall. The glass made a satisfying crash and newt goo dripped down the wall. “Bugger!” He heard Buffy’s footsteps and ducked under the staircase when she opened the door to check for basement lurkers. She came down the steps in a wedge of light. Spike could feel her Slayer eyes piercing the dark, heard her sniffing for intruders, knew she was listening for any sound that would betray the presence of a Bumper in the Nighter. Spike closed his eyes so she wouldn’t spot them gleaming in the dark. “Thought I heard a rat,” Buffy said. She walked back up the stairs. She left the door open a crack, which made it easier for Spike to hear what the gang was saying. “We could use another Spike,” Dawn said. “Damn right, Bit,” Spike said. He hooked his thumbs in his belt loops. “Too bad there’s only one William the Bloody in this hell forsaken town.” “I’ll come up with someone,” Buffy said. “Or something.” The meeting lasted another twenty minutes while the gang argued and came up with bugger all for defeating Glory. Anya made lewd sexual remarks to Harris and the two birds, Red and Earth Mother, cooed at each other. Spike wished he could say smarmy things to Buffy, but she’d crushed that idea and he didn’t think her current friendly mood extended to letting him renew his romantic pursuit of her. It was only a matter of time until she fell into his arms, but he’d have to wait until she forgot about the Chaining Up Incident before taking more positive action to get her attention. The only thing accomplished at the meeting was Giles’s consumption of several glasses of scotch. Spike considered going upstairs to see if he could acquire a glass of said scotch, but not wanting to be seen in his beat up state, he lurked in the basement, chewing on another moonweed leaf and waited for Buffy to leave. He hadn’t stalked her in two days and he needed his exercise. At long last, the meeting was over and Buffy and the rest of the gang left the shop. Spike climbed out of a manhole in the alley behind the store and paced after Buffy, giving her a long lead. The night fog picked up and amplified every sound so he had to keep sharp in order to avoid getting caught. She twirled around a couple of times, checking her back for nasties, but seeing nothing through the fog, she walked on. It was late and he expected her to go home, but instead, she headed into a neighborhood on the north side of town. After walking for ten minutes, she stopped under a streetlight and pulled a scrap of paper out of her pocket. She read the paper, stuffed it back in her pocket and headed for the front door of a house on Maypole Street. The house was dark. No curtains hung at the windows. Old newspapers left on the front porch rustled in the wind and weeds choked the lawn, which hadn’t been mowed in weeks. The house looked abandoned. Spike circled around the house, cutting through the backyard of a house two doors down and crept behind a tree where he could observe her. “What the hell are you up to, Slayer?” She had no more sense than a miniature bousker demon, creeping around a dangerous, dead house like this. Buffy pounded on the door. “Open up, Warren! I know you’re in there.” A video camera over the door whirred, revolved and aimed itself at Buffy. A red LED on the camera blinked and the lens extended itself. From a window in the darkened basement, Spike caught the flicker of a blue computer screen and heard the shuffle of footsteps. Voices whispered. “Shut up, butthead! It’s the Slayer! You were supposed to be watching the video!” “Quit touching my bone! It Andrew’s turn!” A hand smacked two faces. “Both of you shut up.” Spike relaxed when he heard the voices. Buffy could certainly handle herself with those three dolts. Buffy must have heard the voices, too, because she kicked the door open and went into the house. Spike crawled closer to the house and peered in the dusty basement window. Ceiling lights flashed on and, after his eyes recovered, Spike saw Warren and his two moron companions. The trio of idiots had moved into the basement of the abandoned house. The new lair looked about the same as the old one – shag carpet (rusty red instead of royal blue), white plastic bean bag chairs and banks of electronic equipment stacked on shelves surrounding the washer/dryer appliance combo. The washer bumped and whirred into its spin cycle. Warren backed away with his hands raised as Buffy sauntered down the wooden stairs, twirling a stake in her hand. “Let’s not do anything rash, Slayer. I didn’t want to build the Buffybot. I told Spike I didn’t want to make any more girls. He threatened to destroy the Fett. He said he was going to bite me. I had no choice. You know what a mean bastard Spike is.” Spike smirked. He still had the touch. Scared the piss out of Robo-boy without even showing his fangs. “What’s a Fett?” Buffy said. “Spike threatened to bite you?” Spike crossed his fingers and prayed Buffy wouldn’t reveal his current inability to bite anything more substantial than a handful of Weetabix. “Never mind,” she said. “I’m not here about the Buffybot, although if you make another one, I’ll be forced to visit random and painful violence on all your parts.” Spiked sighed with relief. Buffy no longer had her mad on over the Bot and she’d kept his darkest secret. Maybe his chances were looking up. The dumbass with the stiff blonde hair combed straight up spoke up. “So, why are you here, Slayer? Hmmm? Have you decided to join the Forces – of – DARKNESS ?” He contorted his face and put his hand on his chin and tapped his fingers on his cheek. The short, dark-haired kid thumped him on the head. “Shut up, Geekazoid. Buffy doesn’t join the Forces of Darkness. She’s the One Girl in All the World. She’s Good.” “Shut up all of you,” Buffy said. “Warren, I want you to make me a robot.” Warren smirked and hitched up his pants. “Boy Toy? Having trouble getting some action, Slayer? No need to go electronic. I could help you out in that department.” He adjusted the crotch of his orange plaid pants. Buffy gave him a severe look, placed her fists on top of her narrow hips and tapped her boot on the rusty shag carpet. Pufft, pufft, pufft. Warren assumed an innocent air. He put his hands in his pockets and fondled himself. “What’s in it for me?” “I feed you to the nearest vampire nest if you don’t.” That’s my girl. Short, to the brutal point and completely lacking in finesse. No wonder he loved her. Warren nodded his head. “What kind of robot?” “He’s got to be big and strong and able to fight a Hellgod. And, doesn’t talk too much.” Warren’s eyes cocked in two different directions as they did whenever he contemplated some evil project. He looked like a flounder. “Any Hellgod I happen to know?” “Don’t think so.” Buffy walked around the room, checking out the stacks of electronic junk. “Glory doesn’t usually hang around with ringworm basement squatters. Your wash is ready to go in the dryer.” Warren clapped his hands together. “Okay! One big, strong fighter robot for Buffy.” Buffy scrounged in the back pocket of her skin-tight black jeans. “Here’s the specs and the scenarios I want.” She handed Warren a photograph and some lined pages ripped from a spiral notebook. Spike strained to see through the dusty window. “Damn. A photo of yours truly.” “Uh, this is Spike,” Warren said. He punched the photo with his finger a couple of times. “You want your robot to look like Spike?” “Look like him, fight like him and … whatever. Get to work. I’ll be back tomorrow. Have him ready.” Buffy pounded up the stairs without looking back. Spike lit a cigarette and sat down behind a huge aloe vera plant to think. What the hell was Buffy up to? What did it mean? She was carrying around his picture, probably nicked it from Dawn who was always pestering him with her little camera. Slayer wanted the kind of help only he could give her, but she didn’t want to run to him. Embarrassed most likely at the shabby way she’d treated him. When his first cigarette burned down to the filter, he lit a second cigarette from the glowing butt of the first. He considered Warren’s suggestion that Buffy wanted the robot for more personal reasons. Plainly, Buffy wanted his handsome and sinister body, but she was afraid to say so. Afraid of her friends, afraid she’d fall in love with him. Hah! Afraid he’d ruin her for any other man. Jinx, and his subordinate poonlarp demon, Dank, waited in the shadows at the edge of the Bronze dance floor and watched Dr. Ben dancing with a young female he’d picked up at the bar earlier. Jinx held a red satin dress and Dank held a pair of red glitter high heels. Jinx expected Dr. Ben to disappear and Glorificus to appear in his place at any time, but since these appearances could not be predicted, he and Dank followed Dr. Ben from the apartment with the clothes Slook anticipated would be acceptable to Her Satinous Slinkiness. Glorificus slid into consciousness and took over Ben’s body just as he was putting the moves on the girl, who scurried off the dance floor when she found herself bumping and grinding, not with the handsome young doctor, but with a curly-haired woman. “Jinx! Dank! Attend me!” Glory picked at her brother’s clothes. Jinx ran over holding the dress in front of him. “We live to serve you, Your Galactic Graciousness. Perhaps you would like to change into something more suitable for displaying Your Most Feminine Fleshiness?” She snatched the dress away. “What were you thinking, Jinx? First you let Brother Ben appear in public in a tacky button-down shirt and brown pants, then you let him dance with a slut wearing shoes from Buy*Mart. I’m sure she got them on sale.” She paused to ram her fingers into a passing cute guy’s brain and suck out the alcoholic goodness. “That’s better. I feel all tingly.” When she came out of the restroom a few minutes later dressed in her own clothes, she fluffed her hair and looked around. “JINX! Where are you, you little cretin? Why weren’t you keeping tabs on Ben?” Jinx slithered up to Glorificus, bowing and cricking his head to one side in what he hoped was a nauseating combination of devotion and obsequiousness. He kicked Dank, who assumed a similar position. “We attempted to persuade Ben to wear something more fashionable, but he struck Dank on the forehead.” He indicated the bandage on Dank’s head. Dank, who in Jinx’s opinion was young and foolish, incapable of excellent toadying and didn’t know when to keep his scabby mouth shut, spoke for the first time. “How may we make up for our dereliction of duty, Your Creamy Deliciousness?” “You can find my damn vampire, so I can get my Key.” This was a sore subject which Jinx was very sorry to have mentioned. The vampire, known as Spike, escaped two days ago before providing them with information about the Key. It was necessary to sacrifice Lunk and Mange, two of the lesser poonlarps to assuage Glorificus’s rage. Only a large and subtle lie, larded with a generous dose of stupidity, would do in response to her demand. “Dank and I are searching constantly, but we don’t understand why Your Luscious Lithesomeness wants this pathetic Creature of the Night. As you said yourself, he’s impure and not even good for brain sucking.” There. That was an excellent point. He waved his fingers and Dank produced a tray with a sparkling glass of liquid refreshment. “Mojito, Your Celestial Yumminess?” Glory snatched the glass and drained it. “I don’t want the vampire, twit, but he knows where to find my Key. Do I have to search a bunch of skanky crypts myself to find him?” Jinx folded his hands and bowed. “Certainly not, Most Beautificious Bachelorette. Dank and I will track down this loathsome blood rat and fetch him around immediately.” He was most satisfied with this offer. If they failed to find the vampire, he could blame any disappointment on Dank, while highlighting his own efforts to serve. “Quit yapping and find him! Find him now!” Glory stomped off to find another brain to suck. Jinx and Dank left the Bronze by the back door and slunk off into the foggy night to search for the blonde vampire named Spike, who was most precious to Buffy, the Slayer girl. “Where shall we look?” Dank asked. Jinx pulled a handwritten list of demon haunts from his grubby brown robe. “No use going back to his crypt. That’s the last place he’ll go. Let’s try Willy’s Place. We can question the patrons. I hear Willy serves an excellent frozen yak urine concoction.” “Who’s paying for the frozen yak urines? You stuck me with the tab last time,” Dank said. Jinx, who did not care to have his somewhat parsimonious nature called into question, made an executive decision. “I believe we could put the libations on the household expense account.” After Spike burned his fingers with his third cigarette, he decided he didn’t care what Buffy was up to, just how he could turn the situation to his own advantage. If Buffy wanted a strong fighter, he would supply the muscle. It wouldn’t be his fault if she fell in love with him under the circumstances. He walked around the front of the house and kicked in what was left of the front door after Buffy’s entrance. He stomped down the stairs. Since he couldn’t actually hurt Warren, he was forced to rely on bullying. Fortunately, Warren and the other two were so cowardly, bullying would more than suffice. Warren and the two nits were watching Raquel Welch in One Million, B.C. on a 50-inch plasma flat screen they’d liberated from Buy*Mart. Spike found himself momentarily distracted by the site of Raquel in her furry bikini. Raquel bent forward and displayed her goodies in a skimpy prehistoric Wonder bra made of animal skins. It was a sight that could jumpstart a vamp’s dead heart. Buffy would look good in a furry bikini, too. He shook his head to rid himself of that image and jerked the television’s electrical cord out of the wall. “Hey! We were just getting to the good part, where Rocky fights for her mate,” the shrimpy, brown-haired one said. “Am I going to have to manhandle Mr. Fett again?” Spike glanced around for the toy. He spotted it on the shelf over the washer, displayed next to a bottle of fabric softener. The shrimp and the blond with the gelled-up hair jumped in front of the washer and held up their arms to protect the miniscule plasticene statuette. “We will give our lives to protect the Fett!” “Christ on a crutch. You two are a couple of retards.” Spike jerked Warren off the sofa by his collar and slung his arm around Warren’s neck. He brought his arm up in a near choke hold, as close as he dared. The chip in his brain fizzled a warning, but he gritted his teeth and ignored the pain. “Warren, mate, what did the Slayer want?” “Buffy? She stopped by to chill. We went to high school together and she wanted to talk over old times - Flying Monkeys, Hell Hounds, the Mayor Snake Demon, the day her friend Xander and his buds turned into hyenas and ate Mr. Flutie, her first sexual experience. You know, good times.” Warren giggled. Spike wrapped a fistful of Warren’s hair around his fingers and tugged. “I haven’t the faintest what you’re talking about, Brainiac. She told you to make a robot. A robot like me.” “Okay, okay, okay. Slayer put in an order. I had to go along, Spike. You know how strong she is. She could beat the crap out of me with her pinkie finger. I wouldn’t dream of making another robot, especially one that looks like you.” “Damn right, you’re not making a robot of me.” Spike squeezed Warren’s throat a little too hard. The chip ramped up a painful shock and Spike shoved Warren back onto the couch with his two friends. “Uh, Spike, the thing is the Slayer will be back tomorrow. What am I going to tell her?” Warren bent his spine into a rat-like curve. His left eye bobbled in the direction of the washing machine. “What’ll I do when she shows up? You know what a mean bitch she can be.” Spike growled at Warren for calling Buffy a bitch. She was a bitch, true, but Spike didn’t want anyone but himself calling her one. “So happens, I’m in the mood to help you out, Mr. Wizard. I’ve got a couple of projects in mind. Here’s what you’re going to do.”

Chapter #2 - I'm Your Man

======================================= DISCLAIMER: Joss is the Man! With the Copyright! In the last chapter on WWHWH, Spike stole some moonweed from the Magic Box because he was still busted up from the beating Glory gave him and Princess Buffy was too lazy to run by his crypt and give him any blood. Then, Buffy went to Warren’s new lair and told him to make her a big, strong Spikebot, who didn’t talk too much. Spike may have messed up her plans. Jinx and Dank went looking for Spike at Willy’s, but I think they drank too many frozen yak urine cocktails, so they didn’t find him. Oh, and Spike found his favorite toy, the Buffybot, in the Magic Box basement, and charged her up. ======================================== Chapter 2 – I’m Your Man Buffy stood at the bottom of her front hall stairs, combing knots out of her bright blonde hair before twisting it into a single braid down her back. She wished she had x-ray eyes like Superman so she could see if her sister had actually rolled out of bed. “Dawn! Get up! You’re late for school. Again.” Buffy heard a faint growl from Dawn’s bedroom which she interpreted as a consciousness indicator and headed for the kitchen to scare up some breakfast. The kitchen was a frightening place these days. Ever since Mom died, standards had taken a slide. Dirty dishes piled up in the sink, the refrigerator developed an echo and the garbage can, full two days ago, was a Leaning Tower Of Yuck. Buffy couldn’t make up her mind which project to tackle first, so she swung on the refrigerator door in the hopes that the Food Fairy stopped by the previous night with something tasty for breakfast. “Let me down again, the Bitch.” The doorbell rang. Who could that be at this hour? Nobody she wanted to see. Buffy ignored the bell. It rang again. As Buffy reached the front door, Dawn flew down the steps dressed in a pair of blue jeans so tight Buffy thought they must have their own aura. “Just a minute, Dawn. Those blue jeans --” “Oh yeah, you’re one to talk about wearing pants three sizes too small,” Dawn said. She grabbed her bag of books and jerked open the front door. “Don’t even act like you care what I do.” A plump, middle-aged woman with puffy, brown hair stood on the doorstep with her finger poised over the doorbell button. “Summers’ residence? I’m Doris Kroger from Social Services. We have an appointment this morning.” Dawn slid past Doris. “Got to run. Late for school.” “Yes, you are,” Doris said. “Again. Ms. Summers, may I come in?” Buffy demonstrated her bestest, phoniest smile. “Ms. Kroger, it’s so nice to meet you.” As she turned to lead Ms. Kroger into the living room, someone banged on the kitchen door. Buffy ran back into the kitchen. It was Spike. Wisps of smoke curled up from his blanket. She ran to the door and pulled it open. “Why are you here?” she hissed so the woman from Social Services couldn’t hear her. “Let me in! I’m burning up!” Buffy hesitated. She’d locked Spike out after the whole Chaining Up Incident and was not at all interested in letting him back in, no matter how brave and crazy he’d been over the whole Glory kidnapping and torturing thing. “What do you want?” “First off, I want not to become a Duraflame Fireplace Log.” He flapped his blanket which erupted into tiny, blue flames. “Have a heart, Slayer. You don’t want to sweep me off your porch, do you?” Letting Spike flame out on her back porch was probably not a very nice thing to do under the circumstances. She opened the door wide. “Come in, Spike,” she said. “This had so better be good.” She ran back to the living room where the Kroger woman was drawing her fingertip through the accumulated dust on the top of the television. Spike tossed his black leather coat and his smoldering blanket over the sofa and slumped into a chair. The blanket gave off a nasty, burnt smell. He picked up the remote from the television and turned it on. Spike still sported two black eyes from his trouncing by Glory. His bruises, his busted up boots, his scruffy black clothes, his chipped black fingernail polish and the way he flopped his knees apart and slouched in the chair gave him a very disreputable appearance, in Buffy’s opinion, and not one designed to give the hovering Ms. Kroger any good ideas. Ms. Kroger wasn’t likely to appreciate the hotness that was Spike. “Got any blood, Slayer? I ran out and the butcher’s not open for another two hours.” Mrs. Kroger wrote something on her clipboard with her very sharp pencil. “I’d like to look around the house, if I may?” “Oh, uh, it’s not a very good time. I was working late last night and didn’t have a chance to straighten up.” Doris ignored Buffy and headed straight for the kitchen, which gave Buffy the important opportunity to rip Spike’s head off with her bare hands. “Let’s hear it.” “You know, Slayer …” Spike opened his mouth and launched into one of his long-winded explanations. “After the other night, when I took a severe beating from your number one nemesis of the moment, a bloke might get the notion --” She so didn’t have time for a Spike Speech with the Social Services Dragon breathing fire down her neck. “Five words or less, Spike.” Spike thought for a moment and held up his fingers and counted them off. “Came. To. See. You.” He flashed his thumb in a nasty manner. “Bitch.” For a moment or two, Buffy felt bad about giving Spike a hard time. He was the only one these days who dropped by the house just to see her. The rest of her friends only showed up when there was a demon to kill or an apocalypse to avert. Buffy heard the sound of cabinet doors opening and closing in the kitchen. Crap! “Spike! What do you want?” Spike flipped the channel on the television to a daytime soap opera. A blonde-haired woman clutched a blonde-haired man on the screen. “Heard you put in an order for a Spikebot. Thought you might prefer to spend some time with the real thing.” Buffy fumed. How did he hear about the Spikebot already? God, he was nosy. She stepped between him and the television. “I got a Spikebot because you are insufferable and annoying and you talk too much and, and … you have stupid hair. If you didn’t notice in between channel changes, that woman is here from Social Services to decide if I’m going to get to keep Dawn and you are so not helping.” Spike stood up and tossed the remote on the sofa. “Want help? I’m your man.” He strode into the kitchen before Buffy could stop him. “Wait, Spike!” Buffy ran after him. When she got to the kitchen, Doris was poking her head into the empty refrigerator and scratching notes on her clipboard with her pencil. Her pencil scraped on the paper and she wrote with tiny handwriting. Buffy never trusted people who wrote with tiny handwriting nobody could read without a microscope. Tiny handwriting was demonic. “It’s grocery shopping day?” Buffy said. Doris did not look like she believed Buffy. Spike snooped over Doris’s shoulder and read her writing. “That’s not right, Doris. Always plenty of food here. Bangers and mash, bubble and squeak, chips, Weetabix, toad-in-the-hole and whatnot. Buffy’s a good mum.” Doris straightened up and stared into Spike’s sparkling blue eyes. “Do you live here? Are you Ms. Summers’ boyfriend?” “Oh no, ma’am, I don’t live here. Buffy and I are waiting till we get married. Don’t want to spoil the wedding night.” He draped his arm over Buffy’s shoulder. He grinned, showing all his teeth, and letting his fangs slide out a fraction. Buffy jaw muscles cramped from gritting her teeth and smiling at the same time. “William,” she said as sweetly as she could since she was in the throws of lockjaw, “Don’t you have that thing? You know, that thing you need to go and do? On the far side of the Planet that is Elsewhere?” She jabbed her elbow into Spike’s kidney while Doris scratched out more notes. Spike leaned against the counter and tapped out a cigarette from its package. “It can wait.” He lit up and ignored the disgusted faces the two women made. “Let’s sit down, shall we?” Doris said. She plopped herself down at the counter and used her clipboard to clear a space among the dirty dishes, greasy fast food wrappers and crumpled up paper napkins. Buffy grabbed some dirty plates and rushed around cleaning off the counter. “There, all better. I mean -- There like it usually is, right after dinner, all neat and tidy.” Spiked grabbed a couple of dirty plates and tossed them out the back door. They landed with a crash. “Ms. Summers, I’ll get right to the point. Dawn is skipping school, showing up late and causing trouble when she does attend. There is no food in the refrigerator and you appear to be hanging around with …” Doris glanced at Spike, “questionable company. I’m giving you and your … fiancée … one week to straighten up. In the meantime, I will be contacting your father.” “Good luck with that,” Buffy said. She’d been calling Hank for weeks with no response. “I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you.” “She said good luck with running down that bleeder,” Spike said. He flipped his cigarette butt into the sink where it spitted and smoked. “Tell you what. You find him and I’ll kick his ass.” Doris rose up from her stool and tucked her clipboard in her briefcase. “One week, Ms. Summers. And, I suggest you move up your wedding date.” She left the house, her back held ramrod straight. The minute the front door closed behind Doris, Buffy punched Spike in the nose. “Hey! What was that for? I was helping.” He picked up a dish towel and wiped his bloody nose. “Don’t. Help. Me.” Big ox didn’t even know what he’d done. She was going to have to make up a big lie next week about breaking up with Spike when she hadn’t even been his girlfriend in the first place. What did she have to do to get this pest out of her life? “Right. Cause you’re doing such a good job here, Slayer. I’ll get my coat and we can go over to the Thank Heaven and pinch some groceries. Can we drive your mum’s car? My Desoto’s out of gas.” Only Spike would steal groceries from his own cousin. “We are not pinching any groceries from Wedgy. And, you can leave. I’ve got stuff to do.” “Fine, I’ll go by myself. No complaining if I don’t bring back what you like. How about a kiss for your fiancée before I go?” “What! I’m not kissing you! Get out!” Spike snagged her arm and pinned her against the counter. “You kissed me the other day.” He tugged on her hair braid to align her mouth with his. “Plainly, I made a Kissing Mistake. Anyway, that was a Thank You For Getting Your Ass Kicked Kiss, not an Anything More Kiss. Let go.” She trembled at the way his bright blue eyes stared into her own and seemed to pierce her heart. “If it wasn’t anything more, then giving me a real kiss shouldn’t bother you.” Spike lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her hard before she could question the very questionable logic of that statement. Buffy’s heart sped up and her palms sweated. She kissed Spike back. When he slid his hand onto her butt, her frontal lobe function reactivated and she pushed him away. He snarked a smile, grabbed his coat and blanket and flashed out the front door with the keys to Joyce’s Suburban in his hand. Buffy’s hand shook as she dialed Willow’s dorm room. “Will? Get over here and bring your box of goodies.” Buffybot blinked her eyes and looked around the basement of the Magic Box. “I’m awake. I wonder what happened to me.” Her post battery charge programming sequence initiated and she stretched her arms and jumped up and down and threw a couple of punches to test her reflexes. She checked her programming – no instructions from Spike. That was disappointing because Buffybot liked to keep busy. She didn’t like to stand around doing nothing when she could be helping or having sex with Spike. “I should make a To Do List! Then, I will have something to do.” She learned all about making To Do Lists while watching Oprah at Spike’s crypt. She searched her programming for activities she’d done in the past, before she blanked out and found herself in this skanky basement. Acquire Blood For Spike. Kill Evil On As Needed Basis. Locate Spike. Protect Spike. Have Sex With Spike. Change Clothes Into Something Hot. Clean Up Spike’s Crypt. She loaded the items into her To Do List Matrix and climbed up the stairs. It was early morning and the shop was empty, except for Anya who was counting money. Anya … dates Xander likes money ex-demon likes sex even though she dates Xander “Anya! How is your sex life?” Anya looked glum. “The pits. Xander conked out right after we went home last night. He didn’t even want to play Naughty Nurse. Naughty Nurse is his favorite.” Buffybot searched her Make Spike Happy files. Naughty … Naughty … No Naughty Nurse. “What’s Naughty Nurse?” Anya placed the money back in the cash register in neat stacks. “The woman puts on a skimpy white nurse’s outfit and a white cap and the man takes his clothes off, then the nurse gets a bar of soap and a rubber glove …” “Is this anything like Prissy Governess?” “Yes! Yes, it is. Just a different outfit and a rubber glove.” “I like outfits.” “Me, too,” Anya said. “Who’s your partner for Naughty Nurse?” “Spike. He enjoys Prissy Governess, so I think he will like Naughty Nurse.” Anya peered at Buffybot for a moment, shook her head and picked up her feather duster and fluffed a speck of dust off Frimwerst, an ancient Laplandish fertility god with a very large, erect red penis. “I would have thought Spike preferred the Virgin Cheerleader and the Hollywood Producer. Hunh. You never really know a person until you’ve f –” “I must go,” Buffybot said. “I have many items on my To Do List. I must Kill Evil on an as Needed Basis. I fight with weapons. Do you have weapons?” Anya checked under the counter. “Here’s your patrol bag. You left it here last night.” Buffybot picked up the pink leather patrol bag and set off for Sunnydale Memorial Hospital to Acquire Blood For Spike. After Willow finished locking Spike out of Buffy’s house again, the two girls headed for the Magic Box. “Hi Buffy, back so soon?” Anya said. “Was there a time floop and nobody told me?” Buffy said. She hadn’t been at the shop since last night, she was quite certain about that. Kissing Spike this morning confused her, but it hadn’t confused her that much. Anya shrugged and went back to checking the store inventory. Giles was waiting on a customer. He dropped a squirming mummy’s hand into a brown paper bag for a woman customer and folded over the top and stapled it several times to secure the hand. The hand scrabbled against the bag. Buffy shuddered. She hated those damn hands. “What are those things for, Will?” “You don’t want to know,” Willow said. She faded up the stairs to check out the books Giles didn’t want her to read. “Be sure to keep the hand in a cool place until you’re ready to use it,” Giles said to the woman. “And, do come again.” Buffy flopped down in a chair. She wished Giles would quit fussing with the cash register. He could be an old maid in britches sometimes, fidgeting around and shuffling papers and hovering over the customers until Buffy wanted to shriek. He was at his worst in the Old Maid Britches Department when he wanted to avoid saying something unpleasant. “Slayer reporting for duty. Make it quick, the DoubleMeat awaits.” This was a small lie on Buffy’s part. She was off work today and tomorrow, but didn’t want to explain to Giles and the others that, in spite of a deep seated feeling she should avoid Spike early and often, she planned to spend her morning pounding her fist into Spike’s nose for telling that Doris woman they were getting married. Giles sat down at the table and fiddled with a stack of books. “I’m glad you’re here, Buffy. There’s something I wish to discuss with you.” “What’d I do now?” Giles made a funny face, one of those I’m About To Give You Some Very Bad News and I Hope You’ll Take This Like an Adult Faces. Buffy had no intention of making his evil announcement, whatever it was, any easier. “Er, nothing. Nothing I care to know about, I’m sure. I wanted to speak to you about my plans for the future.” Buffy blinked. Plans? How could Giles have plans that didn’t involve her, his very own chosen Slayer? He was stuck in this vampire slaying thing just as much as she was. “You’re going to help me fight Glory, right?” “Yes, yes, of course. After that. It’s past time for me to return to England. I don’t feel you need me. You’re quite capable of acting on your own as the Slayer, and Willow and the others can assist you with research.” His words pierced Buffy’s heart like a crossbow bolt. For all her aggravation at his fussy ways, she counted on Giles and cared about him. Once again, a man in her life was dumping her. She jumped out of her chair and pushed a big stack of books onto the floor with a bang. “You drag me into this whole Slayer deal and abandon me. You’re just like the rest.” “Not at all. I’m merely going --.” “Good thing I have a vampire with a chip in his head to back me up, isn’t it? Since I can’t count on my Watcher.” Buffy ran out of the shop and slammed the door behind her. When Spike commandeered the keys to the Summers’ SUV, he forgot the windows weren’t painted black, and he was forced to abandon the car a block away from Revello Drive and jump into the sewers. After a short walk, he emerged from the manhole outside the Thank Heaven Convenience Food Mart operated by Wedgy Chalk, a regurgitating frovolax demon, who happened to be the younger brother of George Chalk, a regurgitating frovolax demon in Iowa, who was married to Spike’s cousin, Sophronia. Wedgy was a small, aqua blue (except during molting season) demon with rubbery skin and suckers on the ends of his finger tips. He favored tan leisure suits, white leather shoes, matching white belt and a red afro-style toupee to cover his bald head. Today, he wore a peach-colored ascot with his leisure suit. Buuwookkhhh. Wedgy belched. “Spike! What is up with my Cuz? I have gotting in some Robertson’s Thick Cut if you are being interested.” He produced a jar of Spike’s favorite marmalade from under the counter. Spike headed for the crisps aisle, which for mysterious reasons he couldn’t fathom, Americans insisted on calling chips. “Shopping for the Slayer and her kid sis today.” He grabbed a three-pound bag of Cheetos, some Hostess snoballs dyed a radioactive shade of blue and a half dozen packages of Little Dubby Snack Cakes. In the frozen foods aisle, he picked out five frozen pepperoni pizzas, some blueberry waffles and other treats. After a quick dash through the candy aisle for cherry blowpops, chocolate kisses and Kitty Kat bars, he threw the entire mess on the front counter and pulled out his wallet. “You do not have to be paying for the food of the Slayer. I am owing her Big Time after she chased away those bloodsuckers who were playing the dominos in front of the store and scaring off my customers. No offense, Cuz.” “Take the money, Wedgy. Slayer wouldn’t want you giving away the store. If you see her, don’t let on I paid for anything. Tell her I snaffled all of it.” Wedgy added up the purchases and packed them up. “I am talking to Sophronia the other day. She wants to know when you and Buffy will be sending out invitations --” Buuwookkhhh. Glurp. Spike banged the front door shut behind him before Wedgy could finish his sentence.

Chapter #3 - All the Extra Programming

=============================== DISCLAIMER: Buffy and her friends belong to Joss. Darn him! =============================== In the last chapter, Buffybot woke up and got some important info from Anya. *** Doris the Social Services Dragon stopped by Buffy’s house for a visit. Spike helped with the dishes and told Doris a big fat lie. *** Giles sold a mummy’s hand. (Those things are just flying off the shelves.) *** Wedgy, Spike’s cousin asked Spike a question, but didn’t get an answer. *** American Spuffy fans wondered what Toad In the Hole might possibly be, but got no answers. ================================ Chapter 3 – All the Extra Programming Buffy left the Magic Box and ran straight to Spike’s crypt. Buffy was in a bad mood. A bad, bad mood. All the men in her life were skunks. As she jogged through the cemetery, she recounted to herself the many men who were totally lame and had let her down or made her miserable in her short life. First, her shiftless, deadbeat father who was prancing around Spain with his secretary and enjoying his midlife crisis while Buffy and Dawn were living on cake decorations and meat tenderizer. Angel, who left town for her own good, and there was absolutely nothing she hated worse than being on the receiving end of someone doing something for her own good. Parker, a small but painful blip on the Buffy radar. Riley Finn, who she never would have taken up with if it hadn’t been for that scary Slayer dream featuring herself and Spike and dripping candle wax. The big dumb farm boy not only dumped her, but blew apart her theory that catching some nice normal guy was the solution to all her romantic problems. And now, Giles, who seemed ready to outdo her natural father in the Shiftless, Useless and Not To Be Counted On categories, threatened to leave her. To be fair, Xander was pretty dependable as long as Anya distracted him from his One Day Buffy Will Belong to Me Fantasy and Spike proved himself a Rock of Reliable in the matter of keeping the secret of Dawn’s Keyness. Could anything be more aggravating than having the evil, soulless, annoying Spike be the focus of Reliable Male Behavior in her life? She comforted herself with the thought that either one of them, Spike especially, could fly off the Reliability Rails at any moment. She couldn’t do anything about her father and Angel, Riley and Parker were of the history, and she probably couldn’t do anything about Giles bailing on her, but she certainly could do something about Spike. She kicked open the crypt door and sent it banging against the wall. Sunlight flooded in with her. Spike sat in his overstuffed chair with one leg slung over the arm of the chair, sucking a bottle of beer. “Slayer, welcome to my happy home. Like a beer?” Buffy felt a sick tickle in the back of her throat. She’d had enough beer for a lifetime compliments of the owner of the Frostle Pub on campus. “Ew. Don’t try to foamy me up.” “Wouldn’t dream of it. So, what’s got your knickers in a knot?” Buffy placed herself between Spike and the television. He ducked his head to look between her slender legs so he could watch the end credits roll on his favorite afternoon show, All My Children. “You. You’ve got my knickers in a …” Buffy’s voice trailed off as Spike smiled and looked smug. “You and what you said to that stupid woman from Social Services. If she takes Dawn away because of your dumb trick, I’ll …” Buffy frowned. She didn’t know exactly what she’d do to Spike if she lost Dawn, but she’d think of something, damn it. “You’ll what, Slay-er?” He drained his bottle of beer and placed the empty bottle in a suggestive spot between his legs. He stroked his fingers up and down the bottle. Buffy’s face blazed red and hot. God, he was loving this. She snatched the bottle away and tossed it against the wall. Spike got up and stretched. He walked behind her and sniffed her neck. “Just what I thought, luv. You’re not going to do a thing. You need me. Got to have somebody big and strong.” He touched her golden hair braid with his fingertips. “Need someone to help you fight Glory or you’ll be worrying about something a lot worse than some bitch from the government.” Buffy held herself rigid. He was standing behind her as close as he could without touching her. She refused to turn around. She was not about to give in to Spike’s creep out tactics by letting him know he was making her nervous. Her neck tingled from Spike’s closeness. She could smell the beer and blood on his breath, the smoke from his cigarettes, which, okay, manly smelling. And, she wasn’t nervous -- not at all. “You feel it, too, don’t you?” He skimmed his cool hand over her arm. “We’re not getting married.” Buffy’s voice did not carry the absolute certainty she would have wished. In fact, she sounded downright kittenish and possibly whiny. Spike picked a loose strand of hair and twirled it around his index finger. “That right?” “I don’t have to do anything. I don’t need you anymore – not for fighting or for anything.” “Sure you don’t need me for anything?” Buffy twirled around and jerked her hair loose. “Ow! I’ve got news for you, Big Bad. You’re being replaced by a robot. Someone I can depend on. He’ll fight every bit as good as you and without any smart alecky back talk.” Spike laughed and snorted. He laughed again, and flopped on his chair and held his belly and laughed until tears came out of his eyes. Buffy shoved his chair over backward with him in it and stomped out of the crypt. Glory rolled over on her bed and flipped the page on the latest issue of Vogue Europe magazine. Jinx, who along with Dank was groveling at the end of her bed, personally filched the magazine for her from the Thank Heaven Convenience Food Mart run by a most revolting regurgitating frovolax demon. He hoped Glory would tire of the magazine soon, because the magazine featured several excellent color photographs of naked human women which he wished to examine. “Someone or something regurgitated on Page 51,” Glory said. “That pisses me off. The fact that my every wish and whim has not been anticipated by my minions pisses me off even more.” Her voice sounded sweet and calm and her words carried a singsong lilt that guaranteed pain. “Jinx?” “Yes, your Scrumptious Sinfultude,” Jinx said. His head ached with the pain of an excruciating hangover delivered by last evening’s overindulgence in frozen yak urine cocktails. He waved his hand in front of his chest and bowed and stifled a groan. “How may I serve your Buttery Brightness?” “Cut the crap.” Glorificus accepted a hand mirror from Jinx and held her hair up on the top of her head. “Did you think I forgot? Did you think for one single, solitary nanosecond I forgot?” Jinx cut a look at Assistant Head Demon, Dank, whose skin showed a greenish tinge in the morning light. Dank must also be feeling the effects of too many frozen yak urine cocktails consumed while they were searching for information about the white-haired vampire. “Oh, no, Your Fragrant Frothiness. You never forget.” “Since I never forget, then someone else must have forgotten. Am I right?” “Yes, of course,” Jinx said. “Possibly that someone was me? If it was me, may I hope you’ll remind me of whatever it was I was supposed to remember, but I neglected to remember before you have me disemboweled and feed me to your pet miniature bousker demons?” Jinx bowed again and tilted his head at the same time, which gave him a crick in his neck and sent a sharp pain stabbing through his head. Glory threw her magazine at the top of Jinx’s bald head. It left a red welt and bounced off. “I want my vampire! What do I have to do to get one loathsome vampire delivered to my tasteful condo with a view of the ravine over the Hellmouth?” “Why nothing at all, Puffy Perfumed One. I will send Gurp and Leoth to fetch him immediately.” Jinx and Dank bowed their way backwards out of Glorificus’ presence. “How are Gurp and Leoth going to fetch him?” Dank asked. “We don’t know where he is.” Jinx flexed his face into something resembling a smile and showed his upper row of rotted teeth. “I am most disturbed to say, Assistant Head Demon Dank, they are going out to fetch the vampire, but they won’t be doing any fetching.” Dank’s face paled and his eyes widened with terror. “If they return without the vampire, Her Pinkful Pulchritude will strip their flesh from their bones and use their scapulae to pick her teeth.” Jinx raised his hands in resignation. “They live to serve.” Buffybot strode through the Emergency Room of Sunnydale Memorial Hospital, swinging her arms and smiling. Her plastic composite teeth flashed white and sparkly. Her long pink skirt flapped around her legs. A woman at the reception desk called out to her. She was wearing a white dress, white stockings and a white cap. Buffybot recognized her outfit from Anya’s description. “May I help you?” “I’m here for blood,” Buffybot said. “Do you know where it’s kept, Naughty Nurse?” The nurse frowned and handed Buffybot a form in triplicate and pointed down the hall. “The blood drive is down the hall to the left, just past the morgue. You can’t miss it.” Buffybot took the form and headed down the hall. She didn’t see any blood. She saw a young man with brown hair, dressed in baggy blue cotton clothes. She walked up to the man and tapped him on his shoulder. “Pardon me. Do you know where the blood is kept?” The man turned. “Buffy, hey. Good to see you.” “It’s good to be seen.” Buffybot smiled and consulted her Friends of Buffy Folder. She didn’t find the Baggy Blue Clothes Man’s face in her Image Recognition Cross Reference Database, so she read his name tag. “Dr. Ben Mannpflegen, can you help me find blood?” “Sure, the blood drive is down the hall. I’ll walk you.” Ben placed his fingers on Buffybot’s arm. “After you give blood, could I buy you a cup of coffee? I’m due for a break soon.” “Coffee?” Buffybot shrugged off his hand and consulted her Maintenance Folder. Three in One oil, anti-static dust spray, assorted electronic chips, hard drives A through D, 982 gold screws … blink … blink … blink … Coffee was not listed. “No, I don’t require coffee. Thank you for asking.” Dr. Ben Mannpflegen’s face assumed a configuration Buffybot identified as Disappointment. “I thought you wanted to give – coffee – a whirl?” Buffybot frowned. “You confused me. Why would you whirl coffee?” Ben laughed. “You’re so funny, Buffy. I never know what you’re going to say next.” A nurse wheeled an aluminum cart filled with bags of plasma down the hall past Buffybot. Buffybot picked up two of the bags and placed them in her pink leather patrol bag. She left the papers given to her by the Naughty Nurse on the cart. “I must go. I have many items on my To Do List: I have Acquired Blood. I must Kill Evil On An As Needed Basis; Locate Spike; Protect Spike; Have Sex With Spike; Change Clothes Into Something Hot; Clean Up Spike’s Crypt and Review My Programming. Goodbye.” “Wait, Buffy,” Ben said. He caught her arm. “Yes, I’m Buffy. Please don’t touch my arm. Only Spike is allowed to touch my arm and other body parts. He’s Sexy!” Ben held his hand up and wiggled his fingers. “Sorry. Who is Spike? I thought you weren’t seeing anybody special.” “I love Spike. You should see him naked. Really! You would love him, too.” Buffybot whirled, and after a brief stop in the nurse’s locker room to select a white outfit, walked out of the hospital and headed to the Magic Box to perform the next assignment on her list. Locate Spike. Warren and his two geek friends hovered behind Buffy. “He looks good,” Buffy said. “But, what about the rest?” Spike stood at stiff attention in front of Buffy with his eyes closed. He inhaled the sweet vanilla Buffyessence of her neck and the sweat she’d worked up running over to the abandoned house. His own skin reeked from the poncy scent of the 350 SPF vampire strength, sun block spray Warren doused him with moments before Buffy’s arrival. Buffy walked around Spike in a circle and cocked her head. “A little walk, a little talk... perhaps a zippy cartwheel...” She pinched his butt. Andrew and Jonathan giggled and poked each other in the ribs until Buffy glared at them. Warren inched closer and adjusted Spike’s coat. “Hey, he's, uh, great. You'll be real happy, I swear. He's got everything you asked for. He’s got new features I developed since I made the Buffybot – automatic recharging and artificial intelligence. He can even drink real blood like one of those Baby Alive Slip and Slurp dolls. And, all the extra programming, tons of real-world knowledge, the profiles you gave me about your family and friends.” “All the extra programming, right?” Buffy asked. Spike didn’t know what extra programming Buffy requested, but he knew exactly what extra programming she’d be getting. ”Ah, all the, the stuff you wanted, the, uh, scenario responses, you know, the, uh, uh, special ... skills ... ” Warren slid away from Buffy, who was punching Spike lightly in the gut, five or six dozen times. “I can throw in the leather coat for just $500.” Buffy clutched Warren’s elbow. “Or, I could throw in the coat for free.” He squirmed to get out of Buffy’s grip. “Wait. I'm not sure I'm a satisfied customer. He looks a little shiny to me, you know, uh... a touch of plasticine... ” “What are you talking about, Slayer? I made him with the finest poly – uh - urethane money can buy on the black market. Let’s take him for a test drive.” Warren snapped his fingers a couple of times. “Spike, wake up.” Spike popped his eyes open. Buffy, his very own Slayer, stood right in front of him, wearing the pink stretchy top Warren used to dress the Buffybot. “Slayer!” He stepped forward, grabbed Buffy and jerked her to his chest. He kissed her hard. Two or three minutes of radically thermal kissing passed before Buffy pushed Spike away. “Whew. He’ll do.” She straightened her pink top which had somehow become pulled out of place. “Gazonga,” Andrew said. “Spike, I mean, Spikebot is radically thermal.” He caught the looks Jonathan and Warren were giving him and amended his statement. “In a man – woman way.” “Are you touching yourself under my X-men Adventures comic book?” Jonathan said. “That’s Volume 4, No. 82. It’s a collector’s item.” With a minimum of slapping and nose pulling, Warren and the two geeks snickered and ran up the stairs. The front door banged open and they were gone. “Let’s go, Spikebot.” “I’m Evil and Sinister and Devilishly Handsome,” Spike said. “I’m the Big Bad.” Buffy glanced down his body. “You certainly are. And, didn’t I tell Warren not so much with the talking?” Spike grinned and followed Buffy out of the house into the bright sunshine. Jinx and Dank sidled into the musty room where Doc lived and sometimes entertained visitors. Jinx agreed to consult Doc as a last resort. Their efforts to locate Spike at the usual Sunnydale haunts for vampires – the Blood Bank, the Sunset Club, Varnies’ Strip Club and the Twilight Lanes Bowling Alley – proved to be a waste of time and effort. The vampire with the bleached hair was nowhere to be found. The beatings inflicted on Gurp and Leoth, when they returned without the vampire, encouraged Dank to speak up and suggest a visit to Doc. Jinx agreed most reluctantly, not only because of the dangerous reputation of Doctor Lizfrenkoutsuzian, but because Jinx was most unwilling to allow a subordinate to come up with a good idea. Well, if things turned out well and they obtained useful information from Doc, Jinx would take the credit. If not, Dank would accept the blame with cheer. It was a warm day, but Doc’s room was ice cold and a fire burned in the fireplace. Doc wore a warm, full length duster which had the added advantage of covering his tail. “Gentlemen. Friends of Glorificus, aren’t you? What can I do for you today?” Doc’s forked tongue flicked out and crushed a bottle green fly buzzing close to Dank’s left ear. Jinx folded his hands together and assumed the cringing position that had become second nature to him during his service to Glorificus. “It is about a vampire, Doctor Lizfrenkoutsuzian. We require assistance in locating him for her Pungeant Pugnaciousness. The vampire has knowledge concerning the whereabouts of the Key.” “White hair? Hangs around at the Thank Heaven Convenience Mart? Plays dominoes?” Jinx turned to Dank, who shrugged his shoulders. The white-haired vampire did not seem a likely victim of dominoes addiction, but anything was possible, and other much stronger demons than a mere vampire had fallen prey to the lure of the black bones. “Yes, he’s the one.” Doc went to his desk, touched three or four books without opening them, settled on a new book and opened the cover. “Debrett’s Who’s Who of Vampires, very useful volume. Here we are, William the Bloody.” Doc read for a moment, sounding out words to himself. “Turned 1880. Scourged around Europe with Angelus. Drusilla. Blah, blah, blah. Prague. Blah, blah, blah. Oh! You don’t want to mess with him. He’s quite the nasty.” Doc leafed through a few more pages. “Wait. I spoke hastily. An obscure U.S. military agency tampered with William’s brain. Put in some sort of electronic device …” He ran his finger down the page and mumbled to himself, “… joined forces with the Slayer, Miss Buffy Anne Summers, at the California Hellmouth. Pariah in the vampire community. Blah, blah, blah. Lives in a crypt in Restfield Cemetery. Lurks in front of the Slayer’s house, 1630 Revello Drive, Sunnydale, California, in the evenings from 11:00 p.m. to 2:00 a.m. Pacific Time. Yes, the crypt, you’ll find him there.” Jinx left a suitable tribute of freshly extracted, chocolate-covered newt eyes on Doc’s desk and he and Dank backed out bowing. Once outside Doc’s rooms, Jinx smacked Dank on the back of his scabby head for wasting his time consulting Doc and receiving useless information, not to mention the outlay for the newt eyes. “There is no possibility the Slayer will allow her most precious vampire to return to the crypt where we located him. If you mention any of this to her Majestic Mayhemness, I will deduct the price of those yak urines from your paycheck.” Dank rubbed his head and promised to maintain silence on their visit.

Chapter #4 - Really Weird

============================== DISCLAIMER: Joss owns the characters, the stories, and the money! ============================== NOTE: This chapter catches up to where we were when the computer went kerflooey so after this, I will resume my regularly scheduled posting schedule. Probably. Once a week. ============================== In Chapter 3, Buffy went to visit Spike, but didn’t get what she came for, possibly because Buffy never knows what she really wants and Spike got her all confused. She messed up Spike’s crypt and interrupted one of his favorite shows, too. *** Glorificus gave her minions their marching orders. *** Buffybot met up with Dr. Ben, Buffy’s sometimes male interest, and found out his last name. She straightened him out on the subject of coffee. She also collected some blood for Spike and some important articles used by nurses. *** Jinx and Dank made a desperate visit to Doc for information. ============================== Chapter 4 – Really Weird Buffy took her new toy to the Magic Box. “I’ll show Giles,” she said. “I don’t need him a bit now I’ve got my own spanking new robot with all the fighting trimmings.” “That’s right, luv. You’ve got me. Spanking all around.” She gave him a curious look and banged through the shop door, with Spike walking behind her. He’d been walking two steps behind her the entire way, watching her cute bum wiggle back and forth as she’d hurried to the Magic Box. He knew what she was up to. She wanted to show off her new prize to all her git friends. Giles, Willow, Tara and Xander were leafing through old books for information to help them defeat Glorificus. No one bothered to look up for several minutes. Giles glanced at Spike when he stopped reading in one musty volume to exchange books with Willow. “Spike,” Giles said. “It’s the middle of the day. You aren’t flaming up from being outside. Where’s your blanket?” Spike remembered he was supposed to be acting the part of a robot and assumed a stiff-legged stance from a position where he could look down Buffy’s top at her two golden-pink breasts, snuggled in her lacy white bra, all peachy perfection. He calculated the number of hours that would have to pass before he got her out of her lacy white bra. Too many, from the look of things. “I am Spike. I am strong and intelligent and manly and devilishly handsome.” “This is my new secret weapon,” Buffy said. “Behold, the Spikebot. All the good features with hardly any of the annoying ones.” Might as well put on a show for the little lady, let her get her money’s worth. Spike growled and held up his curled fingers. “Grrr! Aarrggh! I’m the Big Bad! What annoying features?” “Fascinating,” Giles said. Giles got up from the table, perched his glasses on the end of his nose and walked around Spike. “Let’s see what he can do.” Buffy led the group to the training room, stripped off her jacket and pulled on her sparring mitts. “Spikebot, take off your coat and let’s tussle.” Spike took off his coat and punched the weight bag a few times to warm up. The two circled each other, fists up. Buffy bounced up and down on her toes, which made her tits jiggle in a very heartwarming manner. “Give me your best shot, Slayer,” he said. Buffy performed a forward flip, kicked Spike in the gut and sent him sailing across the training room. Spike got to his feet and jumped back onto the thick wrestling mat and jabbed at her with his right fist. Willow and Tara sat on the sofa at the side of the training room, watching Buffy and her new robot dance and trade punches, flips and kicks. “He’s pretty good,” Willow said. “There’s something funny about him,” Tara said. Her forehead rumpled up as she concentrated on the robot. “He’s a robot,” Willow said. “Of course there’s something funny.” “He’s not robot funny. He’s something else funny. I’m not an expert or anything, but I think he’s pulling his punches. See, he should have connected with Buffy’s jaw with that jab, but he missed her by a fraction of an inch.” Willow watched for a moment. “He’s not as good as Buffy, that’s all.” They watched together for another few minutes. “I don’t think he’s a robot,” Tara said. “What else could he be? You saw him walk in from the sun. He wasn’t all whooshing up with the flames like Spike always does. He didn’t even have his blanket.” Tara peered at Spike through the crystal suspended around her neck. “Robots don’t have auras.” If vampires could sweat, Spike would have been sweating ten proverbial buckets. Fighting the Slayer without ever touching her was damn hard. Several near misses made his chip buzz. “Come on, Spikebot,” Buffy said. “Hit me! You haven’t touched me once!” She danced closer to give him an opportunity to sock her. He blocked a kick to his head and swung hard with his left fist. As he swung, Buffy jumped forward and he connected with her jaw. They sailed through the air in opposite directions and slammed onto the mats. Pain zapped through Spike’s brain. “Owww!” Spike clapped his hands to his head. “Owww? Did I hurt you?” Buffy asked. She scrambled over to Spike. “How can that be? The Buffybot never says owww when she gets damaged. She did say ‘Oh, Darn’ once.” Spike snatched his hands away from his skull. Hellfire, he’d screwed up already. “New programming feature. I pretend to be hurt when I damage a human.” “What kind of programming is that? I better talk to Warren about getting that feature removed.” Bloody hell. The last thing he wanted was for Warren to find out he was neutered, so to speak. “No. It’s a …” What? “It’s a special program. Can’t be removed. It’s part of my Fighting Skill Set.” “Oh,” Buffy said. She sprang to her feet and danced around Spike. “Let’s fight some more. Give me some kicks.” Spike performed some roundhouse kicks and a couple of kung fu moves he’d seen on a late night Bruce Lee Film Festival. He dropped his hands to the mat and swept his leg across Buffy’s path. Tara nudged Willow. “See that phony kung fu thing? That’s really weird.” “I see what you mean,” Willow said, “But, I don’t care as long as he can help us fight Glory. Besides, if he’s not a robot, what else could he be?” Buffy jumped in time to avoid Spike’s leg sweep, knocked his feet out from under him and sent him flying to the mat. She straddled him and touched the point of her stake to his chest. This was more like it. Him with a hard-on and the Slayer sitting right on top of him and wiggling around. Spike arched his pelvis to give Buffy a little sample of what he planned for later. “That how you’re going to do it, Slayer?” Buffy squirmed and studied Spike’s face. She shifted around to find a more comfortable spot. “His face is certainly expressive for a robot, don’t you think? And, his eyes are blue and sparkly. Just like real Spike’s eyes.” “He looks counterfeit to me,” Giles said. “Plasticene. Skin looks quite synthetic.” “You are Guy-iles. You are Buffy’s Watcher. You’re a poufter.” Spike casually placed his hands on Buffy’s thighs. He flipped her onto her back and sprawled on top of her. His lips were very close to hers and he could feel her heart crashing against her ribs, pounding faster than when they were fighting, her breath coming quick and ragged. Yeah, he was getting to her. “Want another bit of rough and tumble, pet?” Buffy’s eyes got very wide. She whispered so Giles and the others couldn’t hear. “No tumble. No rough. Behave yourself. And, don’t call me pet.” Spike stroked her ear. “What shall I call you? Sweetheart? Goldilocks?” “I’d be very pleased if you could teach him to say my name properly and refrain from making ad hominem remarks,” Giles said. “You’re a ponce,” Spike said. He enjoyed tormenting Giles with complete impunity. He enjoyed making Buffy hot and horny even more. Buffy shoved Spike off and jumped to her feet. “Cut it out. Both of you.” “I’m afraid you’re mistaken about the annoying part, Buffy. Spike’s personality has been captured perfectly in silicon.” Spike placed his hands behind his head and grinned. “I’m Evil.” Jonathan slapped the remote out of Andrew’s hand. “Give it to me. It’s my turn. I want to watch women’s roller derby. Candy Tough Kitty is on the Derby Dolls fight team.” The remote flew across the basement and skidded under Warren’s work table where he was soldering electronic parts together. Jonathan and Andrew scrambled after the remote and knocked into Warren. “Hey! You two jackasses, want to watch what you’re doing? I’m busy here.” “It’s my turn with the remote,” Jonathan said. “Andrew is supposed to be watching the security cameras,” He crawled under the work table and retrieved the remote. He held it out so Andrew couldn’t reach it. Warren blasted the remote with his welding torch melting it into a plastic and metal puddle. “Owww, you asswad. What’d you do that for?” Jonathan dropped the remains of the remote and sucked his burned fingers. “Nobody’s watching TV while the Slayer is out there and knows where to find the lair. Both of you. Get to the videos and tell me where she’s at.” Andrew and Jonathan skulked over to the cameras. “She’s with Spike at the Magic Box. They’re hitting each other,” Andrew said. He smacked Jonathan. “Take that Togruta.” “Good,” Warren said. “No,” Andrew whined. “Not good. We’re stuck here in this crummy basement watching security feeds all day. I thought we were going to take over Sunnydale and steal lots of money and drive cool cars and date hot babes and stuff. Let’s move back to your mom’s basement. She’ll make us some dinner. I liked your mom’s meatloaf.” Warren ignored Andrew’s complaints and returned his attention to his work. Spike sat on the balcony steps and yawned. The Slayerettes had jawed over how to kill Glory for the past forty-five minutes without a break. He needed a smoke and he desperately wanted to get away from Buffy’s wanker friends. He’d planned on spending maximum time with the Slayer, not hanging around her mates. He stood up. “I heard a noise in the basement. I must patrol.” Buffy stood up and stretched. The movement of her arms made her breasts lift and bobble around, to Spike’s satisfaction. “Okay, but come right back up. I could use a bio-break, too.” Buffy headed for the shop’s tiny restroom. No sooner had Buffy left the room, than the shop bell rang and Buffybot walked into the shop. At the sound of the bell, Giles looked up from his stack of musty books. “Oh, it’s you, Buffy. Close the shade so the sun won’t come through, would you?” “I’d be happy to assist you, Guy-iles,” Buffybot said. She pulled the shade down to cover the window. “Spike is allergic to the sunlight. I must protect him.” “I say! You’re doing it now. I’ll thank everyone to call me by my correct name, which is Giles and not Guy-iles.” Giles returned his nose to his book. Spike motioned to the Buffybot with his hand and she strode across the room to his side. “Hello, Spike! I’m back and I brought you blood.” “Shhh!” Spike said. He covered her mouth with his hand. “Get downstairs, quick.” He hurried down the basement stairs, pushing the Bot in front of him. He’d forgotten he’d plugged in the Buffybot and she was running around town unsupervised. “What have you been up to?” Buffybot took the two bags of plasma out of her patrol bag. “I acquired blood from the Sunnydale Memorial Hospital. They were driving for it, but I didn’t see any cars. I obtained a Naughty Nurse outfit.” She held up a lacy white brassiere, white stockings and a white dress. “Naughty Nurse, eh?” That outfit would come in handy. He pierced one of the bags of blood with his left fang and drank it down. “Also, I told Dr. Ben Mannpflegen I loved you and I didn’t want coffee. I don’t require coffee. I checked my Maintenance Folder.” Spike lit up a post dinner cigarette and took a deep drag. He hated Doogie Hawser. Buffybot was being very helpful today. “Good on you.” Real Buffy stuck her head down the stairs. “Spikebot? Are you down there?” “I am searching for Evil,” Spike said. “I will return in a moment.” “Shall we have sex?” Buffybot asked. “It’s the next item on my To Do List.” She clasped her hands behind Spike’s neck and gave him a big, slurpy kiss. “We can play Naughty Nurse. Anya gave me instructions and I obtained the outfit. Anya likes sex and money.” It was all Spike could do to peel himself away from the Bot. Fighting with Buffy earlier got him damn horny and he hadn’t been able to do anything about it with all her friends hanging about. He considered having a go with the Bot, but decided Buffy would come looking for him before too long. “Not now, pet. Go back to my crypt and wait for me in the basement. You can sit on the bed. Push off and don’t let Other Buffy see you.” Spike patted the Bot on her firm and nicely-shaped behind and helped her through the hatch into the sewer. Once Buffybot climbed into the sewer, she took a moment to review her To Do List. She placed Spike’s instruction -- Go To Spike’s Crypt And Wait In The Basement You Can Sit On The Bed -- at the bottom of the list, put a reminder notification on the Have Sex with Spike item and headed for the nearest manhole cover to complete her next item. “Change Clothes Into Something Hot,” she said as she walked up the sidewalk. She checked the street number “1630 Revello Drive, Sunnydale, California, United States of America. This is my house.” She opened the screen door. She found a large paper bag filled with food inside the door, so she picked it up. She grasped the doorknob. The door was locked so she twisted hard and broke the lock. She went into the house. “I must find something hot. Where would something hot be located?” She walked into the kitchen and put the bag of food on the kitchen island. Dawn stood next to the sink with a boy person that Buffybot didn’t recognize. Dawn pressed her lips onto the boy’s lips and put her tongue in his mouth. She jumped away from the boy when Buffybot came into the room. “Hello, Dawn. Why are you sucking this boy person’s face? Are you having sex?” Dawn’s face turned red. “This is Tyler. School got cancelled. There was a gas main break.” “Is that why your face is red?” Buffybot approached Tyler. He wore a black leather jacket. Spike wore a black leather coat and he was Evil. “You’re wearing a black leather jacket. Are you Evil?” The telephone rang. Dawn leaped to answer the phone, but Buffybot picked it up first. “I’m Buffy.” “Miss Summers, this is Doris Kroger from Social Services. I thought you’d like to know Dawn isn’t in school today.” Buffybot looked at Dawn. Dawn is in the Kitchen. How could Dawn be in school today if she is in the Kitchen? She didn’t think Dawn could be in two places at once, even if she was a Mystical Key, although it was theoretically possible under certain conditions in quantum physics, as demonstrated in Maxwell’s Demon and Twisting Time to Suit Yourself. “Dawn is in the Kitchen.” “Is she sick?” Doris Kroger from Social Services asked. Buffybot consulted her Dawn information: Sister Pest Likes gory vampire stories Mystical Key Not a Kid None of those items assisted her in answering the question of Doris Kroger from Social Services. “Dawn’s face is red.” “Oh. Tell her she should return to school this afternoon so I don’t have to take further measures. If her grades don’t improve, I’ll have to take her away.” “Dawn’s my sister,” Buffybot said. “I don’t want you to take Dawn away. Where would you take her?” “She’d be placed in a foster home. I hope it doesn’t come to that, Ms. Summers. Tell Dawn to keep her grades up and stop skipping school.” Buffybot hung up the phone. Dawn gave Buffybot a big hug. “Thanks for covering for me, Sis. I won’t forget it.” “You’re my sister. I love you. Return to school this afternoon, keep your grades up and stop skipping school.” “I will. Promise.” Dawn ran up the stairs to get ready for school. Buffybot turned to Tyler, who had lit an especially stinky hand rolled cigarette while Buffybot talked on the phone to Doris Kroger from Social Services. She took the cigarette and squashed it out in the sink. “This is my house. Only Spike gets to smoke. Smoking is Evil. Are you Evil? I kill Evil.” Buffybot picked up a large butcher knife lying on the kitchen counter. She could use the knife to make Dawn’s lunch for school. Lunch is important. Tyler’s eyes bulged out. “I – uh – got to run. Tell Dawnie I’ll see her at school.” Tyler ran out the back door and left it banging in the wind. Buffybot fixed a stack of twelve crunchy peanut butter, grape jelly and sardine sandwiches for Dawn’s lunch using the large butcher knife. She squished them flat and placed them in Dawn’s lunch bag along with a package of radioactive blue sno-ball cakes she found in the bag of food. She handed the lunch bag to Dawn and waved at Dawn as she left the house for school. Buffybot went upstairs to Buffy’s bedroom. “This is my room. It’s pretty.” She went to the closet and took out all the clothes and dropped them on the bed. “I must find Something Hot To Wear. It’s on my To Do List.” She held up a shiny, very short, red dress. She took off the long pink skirt Warren had given her and put on the red dress. She found some black high heels in the bottom of the closet and put them on and checked herself out in the mirror. “Look at me! I’m pretty.” Next, she checked out Buffy’s dresser. She freshened her lipstick with some I Am Not A Slut Red Lip Gloss. She spritzed herself with vanilla-scented perfume. “Mmmm. I smell like cookies.” In the top drawer, she found panties in many colors. They were very small. She put on a red pair that matched her dress. “Spike likes these,” she said. She stuffed the rest of the panties into her patrol bag along with Spike’s bags of blood. She consulted her To Do List. “I completed Changing Into Something Hot. Next I should Clean Up Spike’s Crypt. But, I’m not in Spike’s crypt. I’m at my house. I should clean up my house.” Buffybot scrubbed her house from top to bottom. She washed the dishes, took out the trash and ran the vacuum cleaner. She put away the food from the bag she'd found in the front door. She dusted the top of the television. She found a bowl of ice cream with green mold on top of it underneath Dawn’s bed. She threw the bowl out the window along with Other Buffy’s and Dawn’s dirty laundry. She threw the long pink skirt Warren gave her out the window. The long pink skirt was ugly. It belonged to Warren’s mother. By the time Buffybot finished cleaning Buffy’s house, it was late afternoon and an alarm went off in her viewing screen. “Time to Slay! Vampires of the World Beware!” Buffybot headed for Restfield Cemetery.

Chapter #5 - Lollygagging. Boasting and Buggered

===================================== DISCLAIMER: Joss owns the Bloodshedverse and all the weirdos who live there. ===================================== In Chapter 4, Buffy showed off her new Spikebot toy. Not everyone was impressed. *** Warren melted the remote control, which left Andrew and Jonathan with nothing to do with their hands. *** Spike got bored. *** Buffybot brought Spike his lunch and got more instructions. She also talked to the Doris Kroger person and checked out Buffy’s panty drawer. ===================================== Chapter 5 – Lollygagging, Boasting and Buggered The last rays of the afternoon sun scorched Spike’s face as they walked home to Buffy’s house. It was very strange to be out in the sunlight. The last time he’d been out in the sun, Buffy snatched away his magic ring so fast he hardly got a chance to enjoy the heat and light of daytime. He touched his hair to make sure it wasn’t smoldering. So far, the sun block spray was working, even if it did make him smell like a Nancy Boy. Buffy held his hand the entire way home after he chased a couple of nasty squirrels and slid his hand across her butt. “I’m going to have to talk to Warren about some of your programming features,” she said. “Either that or get you a leash.” “Why is that, luv? I’m devilishly handsome, strong as a Fyarl demon and damn smart. Much smarter than the Superpals.” “You’re just saying you’re smarter than they are because you had a chance to observe them in action. I’m sure I told Warren not so much with the talking. You’re always talking. Hey, pay attention. Home is this way.” Spike pulled Buffy along toward the park. “Let’s go on the swings.” He didn’t like it to be known, but after a hard night of kicking a little demon ass and making the world safe for puppies and chuff all, he occasionally took a turn on the swings around two in the morning while the rest of the Big Bads cruised over to the Bronze to catch a late night snack when the bar closed. He held a swing for Buffy and gave her a push. “Whee!” Buffy said. “I haven’t been on the swings in a long time. Not since the time I killed my mother’s boyfriend who turned out to be a robot. Funny, my mother had a robot boyfriend and I -- do -- not -- have a robot boyfriend.” Spike got on the swing next to her and kicked the ground to start his own swing in motion. “This is much better in the daytime. I’ve missed the sunshine.” “What are you talking about? You’re not a real vampire. Some of the things you say make the kind of sense that is not.” She pumped her legs to make the swing go higher. Her hair braid flew back in a shiny golden streak. “Am, too a real vampire. I’m the Big Bad. And, I’m Evil.” “Sure you are. You’re almost as evil as the real Spike.” After a few minutes, Buffy somersaulted off the swings and landed on her feet in the sandbox. “That was fun, Spikebot, but we have to go home. Dawn’s waiting.” Spike jumped off the swings but made no move to leave. He hadn’t thought about the Platelet. He wasn’t so sure he wanted to be in close proximity to her. She was too clever by half. She might just figure out he wasn’t exactly a sack of hardware parts as claimed. Buffy grabbed his hand. “Come on. We can’t stay in the playground all day.” She held his hand as they walked the rest of the way home. “I like holding your hand,” Spike said. “It’s romantic.” Buffy frowned. “Robots don’t have feelings. You can’t like holding my hand.” “I have feelings just like the next person.” Before Buffy could argue further, they arrived home. “This is our house,” Spike said. “I suppose you are going to stay here,” she said. She walked into the house. Spike walked up to the open front door and slammed into the barrier. Tiny Bitch locked him out again this morning. He placed his flattened hand against the invisible barrier. It vibrated, but didn’t let him push his fingers so much as a quarter of an inch past the threshold. “Bollocks.” Buffy turned around. “What are you doing, Spikebot? Don’t lollygag out on the porch. Come in the house and close the door.” The barrier dissolved and Spike stepped into the house. Dawn was sitting on the sofa, eating, doing her homework, watching television with the sound off and listening to the Spice Girls. “Hey, Spike.” Spike plunked himself down on the sofa next to Dawn and aimed the remote. “Telly Time,” he said. “Dawson’s Creek is on.” He put his feet up on the coffee table. Buffy pushed his feet off the coffee table and sat down next to Spike. She said nothing when he dropped his arm on the sofa behind her back, so he let his arm fall across her shoulders. She leaned against him. “This isn’t Spike. It’s my new Spikebot. What do you think?” Buffy said. Dawn sucked on a spoonful of Rocky Road ice cream that had mysteriously appeared in the freezer. “He looks like Spike. He has the cool hair and the coat and everything. Is he any good at kissing? Say, does he have all the features the Buffybot has? Only, you know, the manly version?” “Dawn! I got the Spikebot to help me fight Glory and protect you. There are no manly features. I mean no manly features I know about.” Spike smirked at Buffy’s blatant lie. She’d certainly got a good feel of his manly features this morning when she was straddling him in the workout room. Dawson’s Creek came on the television and he and Buffy watched for a few minutes. He shouted at the television. “Pacey, you bleeding fool. Don’t do that. You’re going to get caught and she’ll kick your ass.” Buffy headed for Restfield Cemetery walking fast through the rustling dry grass. “Where are we going, Bu – er, Slayer?” Spike asked. As if he didn’t know. She was heading right for his crypt for a little more bragging and boasting. He snickered at the thought she was planning on boasting about him to himself. “I want to show you off to someone. Hurry up.” He patted his coat for his cigarettes. Did robots smoke? He didn’t think so, but start out as you mean to go on. He tapped a cigarette out of the pack and lit up. “Why are you smoking?” she asked. “Is that part of your special programming?” “I smoke Morleys. I’m Evil.” They arrived at Spike’s crypt. “This is My Crypt,” Spike said. Buffy banged the door open and walked in. “No, this is Spike’s crypt. You live with me.” Clem was sitting in Spike’s chair watching a cowboy movie. “Hey, Buffy. Hey, Spike. Making myself comfortable like you said.” He held up a bag of chips and a can of root beer. “This isn’t Spike. This is a Spike robot.” Buffy marched into the room as if she owned the place. “Where’s Spike?” “I don’t think I’m a robot.” Clem fidgeted with his bag of barbeque and tomatillo flavored corn chips. He looked at Buffy, then he looked at Spike. “He, uh, Spike, uh took off for a couple of days. He said I could stay here. Keep anybody else from claiming the place.” Buffy frowned. “Where did he go? Doesn’t he know I need him? I have a Hell God to fight.” Clem glanced at Spike for a clue, but got none. “He didn’t say?” “Great, strike another blow for Male Undependance. If you see him, tell him I’m looking for him.” Buffy pranced over to Spike’s refrigerator. “I’m thirsty. Did he leave me any of those cute little bottles of water?” While Buffy checked out Spike’s refrigerator for one of those cute little bottles of water he bought for her from Wedgy, Clem said to Spike in a low voice, “Spike, is that you or are you a robot?” Clem pinched his arm. “Owww! Course it’s me. Shhhh, she’ll hear you.” Buffy finished her bottle of cold water and tossed it in the corner with the rest of the trash. “Come on, Spikebot. Sun’s down. Places to go, vamps to kill.” “You don’t have to be so bleeding perky about killing my kind,” Spike said. “How many times do I have to tell you, you’re not a real vampire?” She banged out of the crypt the way she came in, with Spike at her heels. Buffy checked her pocket for a scrap of paper she’d torn from the obituary pages of the Sunnydale Sunset. “We’re looking for Jose, the former Stock Person from the Buy*Mart. He died two nights ago from neck punctures. He’s in the next row over.” She walked over to Jose’s gravesite. The dirt on Jose’s grave humped up, the layer of sod cracked open and his hand broke through. Buffy grabbed his hand and pulled him up. “Here, let me give you a hand.” “Gracias, nina,” Jose said. He brushed the dirt and grass off his formerly shiny electric blue suit and adjusted his orange, pink and black palm tree tie. “¿Cómo lo hago mire?” “You look like a flaming poufter, that’s how you look,” Spike said. Spike caught the quizzical look Buffy was giving him. “Vampire, you must die!” Spike whipped a stake out of his coat pocket and stabbed the vampire in the heart with one smooth thrust of his wrist. Jose burst into dust and vanished. “I didn’t know you speak Italian,” Buffy said. “Er, yeah. I’m programmed to help the Slayer.” Italian? Was there something in the water in this town? “You’re a big help. You dusted that vampire touty sweety.” Buffy patted Spike on the back. “Thanks.” Spike considered how he could take advantage of Buffy’s gratitude. “I need a reward to train my Artificial Intelligence.” “A reward? Like what?” Spike plastered Buffy against his body. He kissed her hard and clamped his hands on her firm butt cheeks. He stuck his tongue in her mouth, and to his surprise, she kissed him back and sucked his tongue. As suddenly as she kissed him, she shoved him away. “What was that all about? Am I going to have to get you reprogrammed?” Buffy flounced away to the next gravesite on her list. Spike ran after her and smacked her on the butt. “Hey!” Buffy whirled around. Before she could punch him in the nose, Conchita, the former Night Shift Cashier at the Buy*Mart, popped out of her grave. Conchita snarled into her vamp face and tapped Buffy on the shoulder. “¿ A donde vas, chica? Deseo aspirer su sangre!” “She wants to suck your blood, pet,” Spike said. He could empathize. Spike wanted to suck Buffy’s blood, too, and a few other things. He flipped Buffy his stake. She, as usual, did not have her weapon handy, in spite of the lecture he’d given her on that very subject. “Thanks, you’re a big help.” Buffy clipped Conchita’s jaw with a left hook, punched her a few times and staked her. “I need another reward since I was a Big Help.” “No. No more rewards. I’m taking you to Warren to get this Reward Thingie removed.” Buffy fanned her face and plucked at her top, flapping the fabric back and forth to get some air on her chest. “My skin is all hot. Do I look hot to you?” Spike tucked a finger into the top edge of her blouse and stroked her skin along her collar bone. “I better feel you to make sure.” Spike’s finger wandered down the front of her top and cupped her breast with his fingers. “You’re very hot.” While Buffy and Spike were occupied, Fred, the former Night Manager of the Buy*Mart, popped out of his grave and staggered forward to his first post death meal. A mannequin-like figure of a muscular man with blonde hair and wearing black jeans and boots stood in the middle of the basement of the abandoned house on Maypole Street. Warren pulled a black tee shirt over the silent figure’s head and shoved its stiff arms through the holes. He stepped back and admired his handiwork. “Behold, gentlemen. The Spikebot.” Andrew and Jonathan walked around the Bot. Andrew stroked the Spikebot’s butt when the others weren’t looking. “He appears sturdy.” “He’s better than sturdy. He’s going to solve all our financial problems. You can take your hand off his ass now, you homo.” Warren snapped his fingers. “Spike, wake up.” The bot opened its eyes. Its face crumpled and its fangs descended. “I’m Evil,” it said. Warren grinned and slapped Spikebot’s shoulder. “Yes, my friend. You certainly are.” Buffybot walked very fast through the cemetery, her black high heels crunching the gravel walk. Her stop in the basement of the Magic Box to recharge herself took longer than she anticipated and she was late for Killing Evil on an As Needed Basis and Having Sex with Spike. She wanted to Kill Evil as quickly as possible so she could Have Sex with Spike and finish her To Do List. Up ahead, she saw Spike. Other Buffy was sucking his face. Buffybot skidded to a stop. What was Other Buffy doing? Spike belonged to her and not to Other Much Meaner Buffy. Then, she saw a vampire with his face all mashed up and his fangs dripping spit, creeping up behind Spike and Other Buffy. Buffybot approached the vampire and tapped him on the shoulder. “Excuse me? Are you Evil?” The vampire touched his chest. “Me? I’m Fred Hooper, the Night Manager at Buy*Mart. I don’t think I’m Evil.” “Let me see your teeth.” Fred opened his mouth and his fangs sprang out. He dabbed his fingers on his mouth. “Hey, what happened to my teeth?” “Evil! Vampire Cringe in Fear!” She took a stake out of her patrol bag. A couple of panties fluttered to the ground. She kicked the vampire in the butt and staked him through the back. The first time, she got confused and staked the wrong side of his body and he didn’t dust. “Oh! You made me miss! Hold still!” The vampire twisted around. “Hey, lady! What are you trying to do?” “I told you to hold still and you didn’t. You’re making this very difficult.” Buffybot pushed Fred Hooper, the Night Manager of the Buy*Mart face down onto the ground. She jerked her stake out of his back and staked the vampire on the other side of his chest. He puffed into dust and drifted away on the wind. “Make mine extra dusty, jocko!” She tucked her stake back into its pocket in her patrol bag. She started to walk over to greet Spike, but he was still kissing Other Buffy and Other Buffy was still kissing him back. She felt sad. She didn’t think this was correct. Spike was supposed to kiss her and suck her face. “Oh! Why is Other Buffy kissing Spike? Spike is mine. I love Spike. I hope she doesn’t straddle him.” Other Buffy continued kissing Spike and Spike put his hands on Other Buffy’s butt. Buffybot felt sad again. A tear trickled down her cheek. “My skin is all hot and my eyes are leaking,” Buffybot said. “Maybe I need to spray my Optically Coupled Isolators with anti-static dust spray?” She reviewed her Maintenance Folder and performed a service check. All her systems seemed to be operational, so she made an entry in her Maintenance Log. “23:47 - I did the slaying, but I didn’t feel satisfied and my Thermal Actuator with Memory Wire Magic felt funny.” She also noted in her Evil Eradicated Database “23:21 – One vampire, Fred Hooper, the Night Manager at Buy*Mart, buggered.” She closed her Maintenance Log and reviewed her To Do List. She had Killed Evil as Needed and Spike was Having Sex with Other Buffy. Only Go To Spike’s Crypt And Wait In The Basement You Can Sit On The Bed remained on her list. She walked with slow steps to the crypt, let herself in, said hello to Clem and went down the ladder to Spike’s bed. Buffy headed up the stairs to her bedroom after making sure Spikebot was following. He certainly had a mind of his own. “I’ve got to shower. There’s my room. You can sleep or sit or whatever you do on the comfy chair.” Buffy poked her head into Dawn’s room. “Hey, Slayer and her sidekick robot have returned to their home planet. Whatcha doing?” Dawn looked up from the stacks of papers and books that surrounded her on her bed. She pulled off her headphones. “Catching up on my homework. I missed some stuff, you know when I was skipping.” Buffy sighed. She ought to give Dawn a lecture about skipping school, but if Dawn was actually working on her homework, maybe now wasn’t the time. Buffy found it difficult to reprimand Dawn when she herself hadn’t been all that enthusiastic about school. “Good. Catching up is good.” “Buffy. I’ve been thinking about school and stuff. I just wanted you to know that I get it, about how important school is and everything and I’m going to buckle down and quit screwing around. I know that’s what Mom would want.” Buffy felt a pain in her heart. Mom. She’d been so busy fighting evil and working and running around, she’d hardly had a chance to think about her Mom. “I miss Mom, too.” Dawn nodded. “Yeah.” “Don’t stay up too late,” Buffy said. “Oh, Buffy, uh thanks. For, you know, covering for me with the Doris Kroger Beatch and being Mom like and everything.” “Sure.” Buffy went out and closed the door. “Wow. Something went right in my life.”

Chapter #6 - When I Think of You

DISCLAIMER: Josh’s characters, Josh’s stories, Josh’s money. I get the Spuffy Fun ============================================ Last week on WWHWH? Buffy had some fun for once. *** Dawn met the Spikebot or did she? *** Buffy tried to show off her new robot to Spike, but he was no where to be found. Clem got confused. *** Buffy and Spike slayed a couple of vampires. *** Buffybot had a conversation with Fred Hooper the Night Manager of Buy*Mar and did some righteous vampire slaying. ============================================ Chapter 6 – When I Think of You Spike locked the front door and followed Buffy up the stairs. It was all he could do to keep his face from splitting open with pleasure. Here he was, less than a month after chaining Buffy up in his crypt basement and royally brassing her off and he’d been invited back into her house and he was on his way up to her bedroom. He went into Buffy’s room and tossed his coat on the comfy chair. There was no chance whatsoever he was going to spend the night in the damn comfy chair. He stuck out his tongue at the chair and took a flying leap and landed on Buffy’s bed. For some reason, Buffy had left all her clothes lying on her bed. He snuggled in and wallowed in the heavenly scent of Buffy. He picked up a shirt and sniffed it. Ugh, just washed. He tossed it on the floor. He flipped open the lid of her dirty clothes hamper. Damn, empty. He lit a couple of candles with his lighter. The shower came on and he heard Buffy singing, “When I think of you, I touch myself…” Spike decided to take advantage of Buffy’s absence to see if there was anything new in her room since the last time he’d scoped it out. First, he checked under the bed. He found Buffy’s vibrator – lavender with two speeds and a light – in a shoebox. He took it out and tested it. Battery was running low. Well, it would do for tonight. He shoved the vibrator into the waistband of his jeans and continued searching the room for anything interesting – booze, drugs, signs of Riley, love notes to or from Thunderbrow, photos of Buffy naked. He didn’t expect to find any Naked Buffy photos, but he wouldn’t want to miss the chance the Farm Boy had talked her into something artistic. Spike took a quick trip across the hall to check on Dawn. She was fast asleep in her nest of papers. He moved a couple of her books so she wouldn’t hurt her neck and turned out the light. Satisfied Dawn was asleep and Buffy was on her own in the boyfriend department, and only moderately disappointed she was not having her monthlies, he stripped off his tee shirt and slipped across the hall. He opened the bathroom door a crack. The mirror was fogged with steam. He could just glimpse Buffy’s pink curves behind the plastic shower curtain as she rubbed soap on her body and shampooed her hair. Spike walked in, put the vibrator on the sink counter and locked the door. “Slayer! Shall I wash your back?” Buffy shrieked and held the washcloth up to cover herself. It was too small and she ended up only covering her bellybutton. “Spikebot, you startled me. I don’t think … Won’t you short circuit yourself or something in the water? I wouldn’t want to damage you.” “I’m waterproof.” Spike kicked off his boots. The pants? No, better not. He got into the shower and picked up the bar of soap. He stroked her back, working up a lather and massaged her tense muscles, working his way from her shoulders down her back to her soft butt. He slid his hands between her legs. “Oh. That feels good. You’d better stop, Spikebot.” Spike squirted some cream rinse in his hand and rubbed it into her hair. “Do you like this, Slayer?” “Yes, that’s very nice, but I really think …” Buffy turned around and glanced down at the front of his jeans which were soaking wet and very tight. “Oh! I didn’t think Warren was so thorough in making … well, parts … all the parts that … are parts. While Buffy was floundering around the thought of robot parts, Spike kissed her and snuggled his fingers right into the part of her … that was … parts. Willow and Tara left the movie holding hands. “I ate too much popcorn and my mouth’s all salty,” Tara said. “I think I need to restore balance to the universe with some ice cream. Let’s stop at the Thank Heaven and buy some Drumsticks.” Willow nuzzled Tara’s neck. “Prefer a Dreamsicle myself.” They strolled into the convenience store, greeted Wedgy, the regurgitating frovolax demon who ran the store days and nights since frovolax demons didn’t need much sleep, and headed for the frozen treats freezer. They were weighing the benefits of various ice cream novelties when they heard a cry from the front counter. Spikebot walked into the Thank Heaven Convenience Food Mart Open 23.6 Hours Daily and went to the front counter as instructed by Warren. Behind the counter was an aqua blue regurgitating frovolax demon, who was wearing a badge that said “Wedgy Chalk – Manager.” “Cuz, have you changing your mind regarding the excellent marmalade?” the demon said. “You must give me money,” Spikebot said. He waited for Wedgy Chalk Manager to respond to his request while he searched through his word glossary for the word marmalade. Jam made of the juice, pulp and rind of citrus fruits preserved by boiling in sugar. He didn’t think he wanted any marmalade. “Spike Cousin. I am locking up the money much earlier and the bank is coming to get it already. I can loaning you enough for some pig’s blood until such time as tomorrow when I will be receiving more money.” The statements made by the regurgitating frovolax demon confused Spikebot. First the demon offered to give him marmalade, then the demon said he didn’t have money, then he said he would loan him some money for pig’s blood. Why would he want pig’s blood? This storekeeper demon was not acting in the way Warren instructed. Spikebot didn’t know what to do so he repeated his demand. “You must give me money. Grrrr.” Spikebot threw in a growl because the Mate of Rocky the Cave Girl growled on the movie Warren showed him. He held up his hands and curled his fingers. “William? What is mattering with you? Are you not well? Why are you making with the Grrrr at me?” Wedgy said. Buuwookkhhh. Buuwookkhhh. “You are upsetting my several stomachs with this Grrrr.” Buffy broke loose and jumped out of the tub. She grabbed a towel and wrapped it around herself without in any way looking at her new boy toy. “This is wrong, this is wrong, this is soooo wrong,” she chanted. She picked up her toothbrush and wiped away a spot of steam from the mirror. Behind her, Spikebot crept up and stroked her arms and nibbled along her neck in a very tingle making way. “Sweet. Let’s go to your room and make love.” “Huh?” Buffy said. Spikebot sounded so human sometimes. Warren did a really good job with the voice and the facial features and the parts – No! Not thinking about the parts. No way a robot could have parts like real – parts. She brushed her teeth harder and focused on the water swirling down the drain. She rinsed her mouth. She combed out her wet hair. She stalled. She looked for her tweezers. She plucked a stray eyebrow hair and stalled some more. Spikebot kissed her neck and made tiny bite crescents with his blunt teeth. “You know you want to. I could make you cum like a freight train.” Buffy jumped back. “Stop it. Instant stopping. I’m the mistress here and I say what goes. I’m not having sex with you. You’re a machine and it’s – It’s wrong!” Spike picked up the lavender vibrator with two speeds and a light. He touched Buffy’s thigh with the tip and slid it under her towel. “You’ve had sex with a machine before, haven’t you, Mistress?” He turned on the vibrator. It buzzed. Buffy dropped her comb. Warren, who had been waiting out of sight by the front door of the Thank Heaven, could not believe his Spikebot was so inept. Spikebot only had to scare Wedgy and Wedgy was a total pussy. He must not have given Spikebot sufficient programming to figure out how to scare Wedgy into giving up his cash. “ Pssst, Spikebot. Make your scary face.” Spikebot’s face ripped into a frightening, vampire visage. “ Grrrr! ” he said, with much more enthusiasm this time. “ Grrrr! ” “ Aieeee! ” Wedgy cried. Buuwookkhhh. Buuwookkhhh. Glurp. Wedgy regurgitated twice, his eyes rolled back in his head and he passed out behind the counter. Warren pulled his Darth Vader mask over his face, slipped behind the counter and pushed the button to spring open the cash register drawer. He took all the cash and handed it to Spikebot so he wouldn’t be caught with it himself. “Here, Buddy. You hold this money. You did great.” Spikebot leaned over the counter. “What has happened to Wedgy Chalk Manager? Has he injured himself?” “He’ll be fine. He just did the regurgitating thing. That’s what he does. Let’s go! Let’s go!” Warren said. He grabbed Spikebot’s arm and hauled him out of the store. Willow’s heart leaped in her chest at the terrified scream. She pulled Tara to the floor and glanced up at the security mirror hanging on the rear wall of the store. She saw a man with bleached blonde hair at the front counter. He was wearing black jeans and a black tee shirt and black boots. He looked very familiar. Wedgy shook and regurgitated and then, he fainted. “Something’s happening. Wedgy passed out.” Tara crawled to the end of the ice cream freezer and peeked around. “My goddess! It’s Spike. He’s robbing the place,” she whispered. She watched as a man wearing a Darth Vader Mask opened the cash register and handed the vampire a wad of cash. The two robbers ran out of the store. Buffy backed away. “Don’t touch me with that thing.” “Why not? It belongs to you, doesn’t it?” Spikebot stepped forward holding the buzzing vibrator in front of him at a menacing angle. “It brings you pleasure, doesn’t it?” Buffy bumped against the sink counter. She couldn’t escape without pushing the Spikebot out of the way. “Did Warren tell you do this? Cause if he did, I’m going to break his --” Spiked stepped very close and ran the vibrator up Buffy’s thigh. “Does this feel good?” He pushed it a little higher until it was almost touching her center. He pushed it inside her. “OHHH!” Spike gripped her arm with one hand and stroked her with the vibrator. He kissed her and she melted into him, kissing him hard and fast, and suddenly, she slapped away the vibrator, then grabbed his arms and flipped him around and slammed him into the sink. She jerked on the zipper to his pants. “Hope Warren knew what he was doing,” she said. The zipper stuck on the wet fabric. Spike peeled away Buffy’s towel and lowered his mouth to one cherry red nipple. Buffy moaned and wiggled and tried to concentrate on unsticking that damn zipper. Spike nipped her and her eyes popped open. She looked into the foggy mirror and saw nothing but herself. She didn’t have time to think about what she was seeing before Spike slung her over his shoulder and carried her into her bedroom. He tossed her on the bed and unzipped his pants. Buffy felt certain she was going to faint.

Chapter #7 - A Different Coloration or the Seedy Bathrobe

DISCLAIMER: Joss owns the characters and the stories and the Spike and the sex and blah blah blah and legal jaron and no money here for the Tart. ============================================= Last chapter in WWHH? Warren took his new robot for a spin and Buffy took her new robot for a spin, or did she? *** Buffybot staked a vampire – Fred Hooper, the Night Manager of the Buy*Mart and came to the end of her To Do List and was very sad. *** Willow and Tara had a night out, but hey its Sunnydale so something had to go wrong. Right? ============================================= Chapter 7 - A Different Coloration or the Seedy Bathrobe Buffybot sat on the bed in the basement of Spike’s crypt for many minutes, 126 minutes and 13 seconds to be exact, but Spike didn’t come. She got tired of waiting and also lonely so she reviewed her programming for other exciting activities to perform until Spike came back and she could Have Sex with Spike, which was also exciting and still on her To Do List. Sex with Spike was enjoyable and gave her head spins and general tingliness. She checked her Friends of Buffy Folder. “I wonder if they’re My Friends or Other Buffy’s friends? They must be my friends or they wouldn’t be in my Folder. I like having Friends. Other Buffy must have her own folder.” Willow … best friend gay (1999-present) witch good with computers does magick, always messes up “Willow is my friend and she’s recently gay. I should go see Willow and let her feel my skin.” Buffybot took all the panties out of her pink leather patrol bag and arranged them in neat rows on Spike’s bed where he would see them right away when he came home. She slipped the patrol bag on her shoulder and marched to Willow’s dorm room, which her Address Book told her was located at Stevenson Hall, Room 217. When she arrived at the dorm, it was 0313 Pacific Time. She knocked on the door and waited. When there was no answer, she kicked the door down. Willow jumped out of bed. Her hair was rumpled and she was wearing fuzzy blue pajamas with small yellow fish printed on them. “Buffy? What’s wrong?” “I feel hot. I did the slaying, but I didn’t feel satisfied.” “Oh. You’d better come in. What did you slay?” “Fred Hooper, the Night Manager of the Buy*Mart.” Willow flicked on a small bedside light and sat down on the bed next to Tara. Buffy sat down on the comfy chair and looked around and recorded everything she saw. “This is Your Room.” Tara sat up in the bed. Her hair was rumpled, too. Buffybot wished they would comb their hair. If their hair was combed, they could look pretty like she did. “You killed a human?” Tara said. She got out of bed and touched Buffybot’s shoulder. “That’s terrible. No wonder you don’t feel well. I’m sorry you killed a human. Was it an accident?” Buffybot focused on her programming. Tara … Willow’s lover gay witch Touchy feely Makes cow eyes Earth Mother “You’re a touchy feely Earth Mother.” Buffybot didn’t think she killed any humans. She consulted her Evil Eradicated Database. “2321 Pacific Time – One vampire, Fred Hooper, the Night Manager at Buy*Mart, buggered.” Willow and Tara sighed with relief. “You scared us,” Willow said. “So, why are you here? It’s kinda late? As in, it’s the middle of the night?” “Spike told me to Go To Spike’s Crypt And Wait In The Basement You Can Sit On The Bed, but I got tired of waiting, so I decided to visit my Best Friend Willow, and see if you are still recently gay.” “Hey!” Willow said. “Just because I’m new to being gay, doesn’t mean it’s some kind of whim. And, since when do you do what Spike says?” Buffybot didn’t understand Willow’s last question. She was programmed to do what Spike said, and she always did what Spike told her to do, except when she did something else. Still, her speech module required her to provide Willow with an answer. “You do magicks. You always mess up.” “I don’t either always mess up, and you’re not so perfect, Miss Slayier Than Thou.” Willow turned up her nose. Her face looked Angry. Tara arranged her face in a manner which Buffybot couldn’t interpret. “Buffy, you seem a little strange tonight,” Tara said. “What’s going on? Why were you waiting at Spike’s crypt?” “I am supposed to Have Sex With Spike. It’s on my To Do List. Anya instructed me how to play Naughty Nurse.” Willow snorted. “You’re playing Naughty Nurse with Spike? And, I’m not perfect, so I’m supposed to approve of whatever you do, like sleeping with evil vampires.” Willow crossed her arms over her chest and displayed her I Am Pissed Face. She kicked a piece of white cloth under the bed. Buffybot’s hard drive whirred. She hadn’t slept with any evil vampires. She didn’t sleep. “I fight evil.” “Exactly. Which is why you should not have sex with Spike.” She had had sex with Spike, many times and in many positions. Twenty-seven positions so far. “Is Spike Evil?” “Don’t go all Philosophy 101 on me, Buffy. You flunked that class. And, for your information, Spike isn’t harmless any more. We saw him robbing the Thank Heaven tonight. He scared Wedgy. Wedgy … Wedgy … Wedgy … “No, I do not know this Wedgy.” “Buffy, you do too know him – Wedgy Chalk, the regurgitating frovolax demon who manages the store. Spike’s cousin. And, don’t change the subject. Spike is on a spree and you have to do something,” Willow said. Tara nodded and made cow eyes. Buffybot put her hands on either side of her Titanium-Molybdenum Alloy brain case and opened the microflap vents behind her ears to keep her hard drive from overheating. “I don’t know what to do. If Spike is Evil, I should kill him, but I’d rather Have Sex with Spike.” “You’d better talk to Giles,” Tara said. She bobbled her head up and down. “He’ll know what to do.” “This is wrong, wrong, wrong,” Buffy said. She snapped the handcuffs closed, securing Spikebot’s hands to her headboard where she could see his wicked fingers at all times. There. That would keep the Spikebot out of mischief. Spike grinned. “Help me out here, Slayer. I have a hard on and you’ve got the cure.” Buffy examined the aforementioned hard on. It was very hard. And, large. “No. No curing.” “Straddle me, baby. It’ll feel good.” “I’m not straddling you.” She lifted her knee and plopped herself into place right on top of Spikebot’s thing. She should not be doing this no matter how good it felt. It felt very good. Spikebot rocked his pelvis, which rubbed Buffy exactly the right way. “Invite me in, pet.” “I’m not inviting you anywhere.” She arched her back so Spikebot would rub her in several other just right ways. “Fine, come sit on my face.” Buffy had never sat on anybody’s face in her life and she wasn’t about to start now. Probably. She took his cock in her hand and guided it in. Spikebot’s cock felt good, just like the real thing. “Does this thing vibrate?” Buffybot arrived at Giles apartment. She knocked on the door. When no one answered for several minutes she knocked again. She didn’t like waiting, but Willow said she should wait and not kick the door down with her tasteful pointy shoe. “Guy-iles, are you home?” Giles answered the door. He was wearing a seedy, brown bathrobe and his hair was messy. He squinted at the rising sun. “Buffy? Is there some emergency? It’s five o’clock in the morning.” Guy-iles Buffy’s Watcher Poncey Git Pompous Never gets laid “No, Guy-iles, you Poncey Git. It is 0507 Pacific Time. You’re my Watcher. Tara said you’d know what to do.” Giles opened the door and let Buffybot into his flat. “I hope this is important. I’m not dressed.” Buffy looked around Guy-iles apartment to orient her internal mapping system. She observed Guy-iles’ clothing. “Guy-iles, you’re wearing a ratty bathrobe. Is that why you never get laid?” Giles sighed and went to the kitchen and put a kettle on the stove and turned on the gas. “What’s so important you found it necessary to wake me up at this ungodly hour?” Buffybot considered Guy-iles’s question. Sometimes Guy-iles was difficult to understand. “I had to wake you up to talk, because you don’t talk while you’re asleep.” Giles opened the cabinet over the kitchen sink, took out a large bottle of whiskey, poured a generous dollop into his tea cup. He left the bottle on the counter within easy reach. “I’m awake. What are we talking about?” “Spike. Spike is Evil. If Spike is Evil, I should kill him, but I’d rather Have Sex with Spike. I love him.” “I’m afraid I don’t understand your analogy. I know you aren’t anxious to kill Spike, especially since we may need his assistance to fight Glory. As to your feelings about him, I suppose we’ve all become used to having him skulking about. I don’t see the urgency.” “Tara and Willow said Spike robbed the Thank Heaven Convenience Food Mart. He scared Wedgy Chalk, the regurgitating frovolax demon who manages the store and Wedgy Chalk regurgitated. Wedgy Chalk is Spike’s cousin.” Giles swallowed and placed his fingers on his throat. His face looked pale. “He did? That certainly puts a different coloration on matters.” “What should I do?” “I’m afraid you’ll have to do your duty.” Buffybot didn’t like the sound of the word ‘duty.’ She reviewed her Spike instructions. Locate Spike. Protect Spike. Be Nice to Spike. Have Sex with Spike. Yes, performing those items was her duty. She revised her opinion of the word duty. Doing your duty and being Nice to Spike was very pleasant. “Okay, I’ll do my duty.” “Good, good.” Giles yawned. “Since you’re here, I want to talk to you. Sit down.” Buffybot perched on the sofa arm. She wanted to be skipping along since she had many things to do, especially now that Giles told her she should Locate Spike, Protect Spike and Be Nice to Spike, even though Spike is Evil, because she should do her duty. Also, she still hadn’t initiated and completed Have Sex with Spike. You should never put off until tomorrow what you want to do today. “What do you want to tell me, Watcher Guy-iles?” “I want you to stop calling me Guy-iles, for one thing. I know you’re not happy about my plans to return to England, but you don’t need a Watcher. You don’t need my help in training or researching. It’s time I went home.” Buffybot didn’t understand why Guy-iles was telling her these things or what made him think she wasn’t happy. She was always happy, except when Spike was sucking other Buffy’s face. “I don’t understand you. You’re my Watcher and you’re pompous.” Guy-iles made a strange face and took a long drink from his tea cup. She should see Warren about upgrading her Face Making Recognition and Interpretation software. “The Council never anticipated I would be watching you for quite such a long period of time. Most Slayers don’t … most Watchers aren’t needed for more than a year or two before a new Slayer is called and the previous Watcher is retired from active duty and given a research position.” Buffybot decided Guy-iles was never going to get to the point and if he did she wouldn’t understand what he was talking about, so she stood up. “I’ve got to do my duty.” Giles rubbed the back of his neck. “Yes, you’ve got a point. We all must do our duty, even if our duty turns out differently from our original intentions or plans. I’ll think about what you said.” Guy-iles was a very strange man and the things he said were mysterious and incomprehensible. She pranced out of Gile’s flat and headed to the Magic Box to get charged up so she could do her duty at full capacity. “I should never have let you put these handcuffs on me,” Buffy said. She strained on the cuffs, but couldn’t loosen them without ripping the headboard apart. Her white nurse’s cap was skewed to one side of her head, her lacy white bra made her breasts swell up and her white dress was ripped up the front. She ripped the sheets with the high heels on her pointed white shoes. She’d lost her rubber glove and was pretty certain she did not want to know what happened to it. Spike lifted his head from between her legs and snapped the garters holding up her white stockings. “Your own fault for not sitting on my face when you had the whip hand.” Buffy clapped her knees against Spike’s ears. “You talk too much.” Willow and Tara tossed around their bed for hours without sleeping or speaking until Tara got out of bed. She opened a box that contained her some of her most precious magic artifacts. “I’m worried about Buffy. Are you worried about Buffy?” Willow said. Tara removed the midnight blue cover from the crystal ball and placed her hands over the glowing orb. “She was acting really weird tonight. What if she really is sleeping with Spike?” “Not looking forward to another Buffy Sleeps with Vampire Intervention scene. Been there, done that, got my ear chewed off.” The orb flashed and presented a blurry vision of Buffy and Spike. Tara gasped and threw the velvet cover over the crystal ball to block out the image. “Ohmigoddess. It’s worse, much worse than I thought.” “What could be worse than Buffy sleeping with Spike?” “Buffy getting married to Spike.” Buffy clicked one side of the handcuffs on her own wrist and one side on Spike’s wrist. “There. You won’t be able to run off while I’m sleeping. I don’t want you getting in any trouble.” “Don’t have to sleep. We could -- ” He nuzzled her neck. He couldn’t possibly sleep on the best night of his life. He could spend a century lying next to her sniffing her neck and holding her warm, naked body. “Not everyone has robot stamina, you know.” She curled herself into his arms. “I surrender to a blissful state of exhaustion and post-sexy satisfaction. You’re surprisingly cushy for a machine. Too bad real Spike isn’t more like you. Sweet and lovey and sexy and everything a girl appreciates in a guy.” Spike wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry. If Buffy would only give him a chance, she’d know he was exactly like himself, or the robot who didn’t exist was exactly like … bugger. Had his robot alter ego outstripped him in the romance department? He had to fix up that mistake, but it wouldn’t be easy without blowing his cover. “I am Spike. I am exactly like the Real Spike.” “I’m sure you think you are, but you’re much nicer. Real Spike is so exasperating sometimes.” “Like what times?” “When he’s pulling some trick on me, like he thinks I won’t find out. I always find out. Or, chaining me up in the basement of his crypt, or having sex with the Buffybot or trying to make me jealous with Warren’s skankbot. You’d think he’d learn.” Bugger twice over. “Maybe he tricks you because he can’t get close to you like a regular bloke.” “You mean like bring me flowers or ask me out on a date?” “Yeah, like that.” “I might change my mind about him if he stopped doing stupid stuff.” “I – er, Spike could do that. You want to go out on a date? With Real Spike?” “I’d like to go out on a date with somebody nice who wouldn’t leave town or turn into a monster. It’s lonely being the Slayer. Everybody wants a piece of me, wants me to kill something or avert an apocalypse. Nobody lets be just be a girl.” “Spike could be nice, if you’d let him. He doesn’t give a bloody damn about apocalypses – sees.” “You don’t even know Spike.” “I know he loves you.” He tipped her chin up to look in her eyes. “He loves you very much.” She blinked her eyes and studied his face. “You’re a very nice robot, Spikebot. I’m glad I got you.” She tucked her head into the hollow of his neck. “Sleep now.”

Chapter #8 - Strawberry Clueage

Thanks to everyone who read and Big Bad Thanks to everyone who took the time to review. Reviews are always welcome. ============================================== Disclaimer: Joss said I could borrow Spike for the night. What do you think? Should I take him up on the offer? Joss owns and rules the story, the character and the rights. ============================================== Last week on WWHH? Buffybot observed that Giles has really bad taste in clothes. She went to visit her friends, Willow and Tara. I don't think they liked getting a visit at 3:00 a.m., but hey, what are friends for? *** Buffy tested her Spikebot thoroughly. *** Spike found out that he has a chance if only he'd quit tricking Buffy into stuff. Oops. ============================================= Chapter 8 - Strawberry Clueage The sun was peeking above the eastern mountain ridge when Spike’s empty stomach growled and woke him up. Buffy sprawled on his chest, her golden hair tangled and fanned out on her pillow, her hand resting on his hand, her legs wrapped around his. Her lacy white bra and white nurse’s stockings were knotted around his neck. He’d never dreamed he would be in her bed holding her like this, not to mention all the other things they’d done and said last night. He’d never dreamed the Slayer snored so much, either. It nearly killed him, picking the locks on the handcuffs and pulling himself out of the sleeping Buffy’s arms, but he was starving. If he didn’t get some blood soon, he’d pass out. He kissed her lips softly so she wouldn’t wake up, dressed and slipped down the stairs. The handle of the front door was in his hand and his coat was over his head when he heard a noise in the kitchen. He crept through the dining room hoping to surprise whatever beastie was lurking in Buffy’s kitchen, and puffed a sigh of relief when he saw Dawn. He turned to sneak out to avoid a confrontation with Little Sis, who was too smart for anybody’s good. “Spike! What are you doing here? Does Buffy know you’re skulking around our house? How’d you get in, anyway? Willow made you vampira non grata after you chained Buffy up in your crypt.” “I’ll have you know, Fangsome …” Just in time, he remembered he was supposed to be a robot and not the real Spike. “You are Buffy’s sister, Dawn.” Dawn got down off the kitchen stool where she’d been eating a tasty breakfast of Count Chocula cereal puffs. She licked off her spoon and boinked Spike on the head. “You’re the Spikebot, aren’t you?” “Ow! I don’t think I’m a robot.” He had to get out of here. “Are you like Buffy’s personal slave? Do you have to do anything she says?” “I bloody hell do n -- too have to help the Slayer in her Slaying duties.” Dawn walked around Spike and tapped her spoon on her hand. “Are you a sexbot, like the Buffybot? Did you have sex with Buffy? Cause that is so cool in a totally gross kind of way. Why’s your hair standing up all crazy? Can I see your manly parts? I never saw a robot’s manly parts before. Or a manly man’s parts for that matter.” Spike spluttered, “You can not – that does not compute.” Dawn smirked. “How about me? Are you my personal slave, too?” Spike eyed the back door with longing. If only he could douse himself with another spray of the suntan stuff Warren gave him, he could run out the back door and escape the Dawn Devil before she figured out he was the dead flesh and blood Spike and not Buffy’s damn cyborg boy toy. Dawn poked him in the belly with her spoon. “Make me a poptart, Spikebot. I command you.” Spike picked up the box of strawberry poptarts next to Dawn’s cereal bowl and dropped one in the toaster. He pushed the lever and waited. The toaster smoked. Dawn snuck up right behind him. “Poptarts are a delicious radioactive treat that come in many flavors,” she said. “You can use them to make blowtorches.” Blowtorches? Buffy’s sister was unbelievably scary, without half trying. “Poptart is slang for slutty girls, too.” Spike choked. Where did she learn stuff like that? The toaster ejected the flaming tart in a smooth arc three feet above the countertop. Spike caught the flying tart and swore as it burned his hands. “Bleeding Christ!” He dropped the poptart on a plate. He composed himself and handed it to Dawn. “Here is your flat, rectangular toaster pastry. It is Evil,” he said in his robot voice. Dawn pinched off the crispy corners while she waited for the poptart to cool enough to eat. “She’s going to kick your ass to the Cleveland Hellmouth, you know.” Spike sighed. Should have known Niblet would suss him out in a dead man’s heartbeat. “How’d you know?” “No reflection in the toaster, dumbass.” “Swell. I’ve got to go home.” “When are you going to tell her?” “Tell her? Are you off your gourd? She’ll cut my head off with a Weed Whacker.” “She’s going to find out. She’s not stupid, well she is pretty stupid, but eventually Buffy will figure out you aren’t the world’s largest walking, talking vibrator.” “Where did you learn to talk like that? Are you going to tell?” Dawn bit off a hunk of poptart and chewed while she thought about it. “Yeah, pretty much have to tell her. Normally, I wouldn’t squeal you out, you know if you were just stealing Giles’s booze or cheating at dominoes, but you’re doing the grubby with my sister and she has a right to know who it is she’s grubbying with. Don’t you think?” Spike slumped down on one of the counter stools. “Don’t suppose you could give me a week or two to work her around?” “Sundown tonight. And, thanks for the poptart.” Spike jumped into the sewer outside Buffy’s front door and hurried back to his crypt and entered through the basement. “Hope the Bot remembered to put my blood in the refrigerator.” He didn’t relish a room-temperature bag of day-old blood even if it was human. He also didn’t relish telling Buffy he’d tricked her into sleeping with him, when she thought she was sleeping with a damn robot, which, now he thought of it, she ought to be ashamed of herself and be damn grateful it was him and not some damn sexbot she hopped in the sack with last night. Eight times. He checked the bedroom nook of his crypt. “Buffy, I’m home.” No Bot. She’d run off somewhere. He was going to have to get her a g-sat bracelet so he could keep track of her. He took off his coat and dropped it on his bed. The bed was covered with small women’s panties in various styles and colors. The panties were neatly lined up in rows. He picked one up and sniffed it. Buffy. Where the hell did these come from? He climbed up the ladder. Clem dozed in front of the television. Several empty chip bags and cans of root beer surrounded the chair. He woke up when Spike popped open the refrigerator. “Hey, Spike. Buffy was here yesterday. She was looking for you.” Spike tore open a bag of blood with his teeth and guzzled half of it. “Git. That was me with her.” “Oh. You mean you’re not a robot?” “There is no robot. Well, there’s a Buffybot, but there’s no Spikebot. I tricked Buffy. She thinks I’m her robot.” Clem rustled around the empty chip bags looking for breakfast. “I don’t think it’s a good idea, tricking Buffy. She has a temper.” It was a double bad idea now that he knew what she thought about his tricks. Nothing he could do about it now. He’d just have to think of some way around her. “It’s under control, mate.” Spike took another drink from his bag of blood and belched. Under control until sundown and Kid Twist started blabbing her head off. The door to the crypt slammed open and Buffy stomped in. She’d run out of her house without brushing her hair or putting on a bra. Her tangled pelt made her look like she’d just had a long night of wild, satisfying sex, which Spike knew for a certainty she had. His dick sprang to attention as he ran his eyes over her taut nipples. “Have either of you seen my robot? What do you think you’re doing?” Buffy snatched the blood bag out of Spike’s hands. “Give that back! I’m starving!” Clem jumped out of the chair and ran for the door. “Gosh, look at the time. I’m late for work. Nice seeing you, Buffy. Oh, and Mazel Tov. Hope I’m invited.” He didn’t wait for an answer. “Invited to what?” Buffy read the label on the blood bag. “This is human. Where’d you get this? Did you steal it from the hospital? You’re supposed to be drinking pig’s blood.” “Sod that. Pig blood is swill. I’m a vampire. I drink human blood.” She tossed the bag back to him. “Don’t let me catch you stealing human blood again. Where’s my bot?” “Haven’t seen him. Just got home myself. Look’s like you had quite a night of it, Slayer. Anybody I know?” “Shut up, Spike.” Buffy leaned over the hole to the lower level. “Spikebot? Are you here?” She jumped down. Spike smacked his forehead. “Bloody hell. The panties.” He ran for the front door, but it was bright daylight outside and he couldn’t escape. Not without another dose of suntan spray which was downstairs in his coat pocket. He considered hiding in the stone coffin, but Buffy was poking her head out of the hole in the floor. She waved around a fistful of panties. “What are you doing with my panties?” “I can explain.” Which he couldn’t explain since the Buffybot made Buffy’s panties appear on his bed and the Bot was the last subject he wanted to bring up at this or any other moment. “Magicks. Must be. Red and Gaia Girl twitched them over here.” She threw the panties in his face. “How many times do I have to tell you to stay out of my underwear drawer? You know what? I thought you’d changed. I thought when you protected Dawn, that maybe, just maybe, you were ready to straighten out and act like a human -- well, like a regular nice person. I was even thinking of going out on a date with you. But, I can see you haven’t changed a bit. Pervert.” He’d mucked things up this time. No, he hadn’t mucked up anything. It was that bleeding Buffybot leaving thongs and panties lying all over his crypt. And, where did Miss High and Mighty get off calling him a pervert. After the wicked things she did last night. Things he didn’t even know she knew about. Well, he wasn’t having any of it from her. “You should talk about being a pervert. You and your little sex toy. Oh, Spikebot, do that thing with your tongue again.” Buffy didn’t hesitate. She popped Spike in the face as hard as she could. He sailed across the crypt, slammed into the wall and slid down to the floor. “That’s for spying on me and stealing my underwear. You’re despicable,” she said. She marched out of the crypt and slammed the door behind her. He’d mucked things up this time. Buffy sat on the park swing and bobbled back and forth. She was tired of searching for her robot and too miserable to swing. Her Spikebot had disappeared and Spike was perving on her, as usual. She didn’t go running around stealing his underwear, did she? He probably didn’t wear any, the pig. “That’ll teach me to listen to a robot for love advice. Spike hasn’t changed a bit. He’s still a pig. What’s a girl have to do to get a decent guy in this town?” Spike spun the channels on his television and held the cold blood bag to his shiner. He’d got his wrinklies in a wringer this time. Buffy was mad at him for stealing her underwear, which he didn’t even do, and she’d turf him right out of Sunnydale when she found out how he’d tricked her over the Spikebot, which he did do. Why couldn’t he nick some flowers and ask her out on a date like a normal bloke? Why, cause he wasn’t a normal bloke, that’s why! “I’m a vampire, and I’m Evil and she’s just going to have to accept me the way I am and -- I’m screwed.” All My Children came on and he’d settled back to watch Erica and Kendall fighting and drink his blood, when someone tapped his crypt door. After letting a few choice curse words fly, he answered the door. A man in a brown uniform was leaning a large package against his door. “Universal Parcel Service, sir. Package from Warren Meers for Spike. If you’d just sign here.” He held out an electronic clipboard. “It’s about bloody time.” Spike signed his name to the clipboard and dragged the box into the crypt. He opened the box and unwrapped Warren’s latest creation. “Yeah, you’ll do.”

Chapter #9 - Dedication, Productivity, Motivation and Cooperation

Last week on WWHH, Dawn caught Spike with some sharp detecting and the toaster. *** Buffy ran around town looking for her robot, but only found her panties and Spike up to no good. ============================================== DISCLAIMER: Joss owns the characters, the show, the scripts, the writing and everything except the fun. Unless he sold the whole bunch to some big film company. ============================================== Thanks everyone for reading and reviewing. Those reviews make author hearts go pitter pat. ============================================== Woo Hoo! WWHH? was nominated for Best Fluffy Spuffy and Best Romance at Spuffy Awards - Thank you Tart Fan! ============================================== Chapter 9 - Dedication, Productivity, Motivation and Cooperation Charged up and ready for action, Buffybot left the basement of the Magic Box by the sewers and returned home to change outfits and see if Dawn wanted more sandwiches for her school lunch. Dawn wasn’t home, so Buffybot went to her room, which was quite a mess. Buffybot dug through the pile of Buffy’s clothes on the bedroom floor. She found a red and yellow shirt and matching red pants and a hat with a cow on it. “These are ugly.” She threw them out the window. The phone next to Buffy’s bed rang. Buffybot loved answering the phone. It was exciting. You never knew who was calling. “I am Buffy. Who are you?” “Buffy, this is Sarah from the Doublemeat. I really hate to do this to you on your day off, but Sophie and Phillip didn’t show up for work and I need help for the lunch rush. Can you come in at nine this morning?” Doublemeat Palace Center and Main Street Hell hole Buffy works there. The intersection of Center and Main Street wasn’t far from 1630 Revello Drive. She could walk there in 2.7 minutes. “I can be at the Hell Hole in 2.7 minutes.” “Er, thanks Buffy.” “You’re welcome.” Buffybot hung up the phone. She picked out a black bra, short black leather skirt and a red, silky top and dressed herself. She walked to the Doublemeat, swinging her arms and smiling. A blonde woman, wearing one of the ugly red and yellow outfits and a cow hat greeted Buffybot. She was wearing a badge that said Sarah Ross - Store Manager. “Thanks for coming in, Buffy. Don’t worry about the uniform, just grab a hat.” Sarah Store Manager smiled at me, so she must be a friend. Buffybot saved Sarah Store Manager in her Friends of Buffy Folder. “I won’t worry, Sarah Ross - Store Manager. I’m ready to work. What shall I do?” “You can work the cash register.” Buffybot put on the cow hat Sarah Ross - Store Manager gave her and stood behind the cash register next to another person wearing an ugly red and yellow outfit and a cow hat. Her badge said “Hi, I’m Marge.” A man who wasn’t wearing a cow hat or an ugly red and yellow outfit came up to the counter and said to Hi, I’m Marge, “I’d like a Doublemeat burger and a small fries to go.” Buffybot watched as Hi, I’m Marge pushed some buttons. A drawer in the cash register opened up. It was full of money. Anya likes money. Money must be good. “That will be $5.86,” Hi, I’m Marge said. The man handed Hi, I’m Marge some money. She put the man’s money in the cash register and handed him back some bills and coins. Then, she put a round, wrapped-up hunk of something and a container of French fries in a bag and handed it to the man. The man left. Another man came in. He stepped up to the counter in front of Buffybot. “Hey, cutie. Gimme a Doublemeat.” Buffybot pushed the Doublemeat button. The cash register showed $2.45. “It says $2.45.” “Sure does, honey. Here you go.” He handed Buffybot a piece of money that said Ten Dollars on it and a piece of paper that said ‘Doublemeat Coupon Good For One Free Small Coke.’ “What should I do with the Doublemeat Coupon Good For One Free Small Coke, Hi, I’m Marge?” Buffybot said. “You can call me Marge, smart aleck. Put the coupon in the cash register under the twenties and give the man a coke with his order.” Marge reached over, pushed another button on the cash register and handed the man his change. Buffybot liked Marge Smart Aleck so she entered Hi I’m Marge You Can Call Me Marge, Smart Aleck in her Friends folder, put the Ten Dollars in her skirt pocket and shoved three round hunks and a couple of containers of fries into a bag. She got the small coke from the soda machine and gave everything to the man. She smiled at the man and the man smiled back. This was fun! The next person to come to Buffybot’s cash register was an adolescent boy. He needed to wipe his nose. Two other adolescent boys came in the store with him. “Hey lady,” he said, “Sing the Doublemeat song.” Buffybot considered for a moment. “I don’t know the Doublemeat song. Your nose is snotty.” The kid sang the song with some schoolyard amendments. “Get the double treat, that's the double sweet, oh it's hard to beat, when the meat meets the street and it smells like your feet. You sing it.” “Get the double treat, that's the double sweet, oh it's hard to beat, when the meat meets the street and it smells like your feet.” Buffybot sang the song and pressed many buttons on the cash register while she was singing. “That will be $194.38.” The boys shrieked and giggled and ran out of the store. Buffybot took $194.38 out of the cash register and put it in her pocket. She decided not to put the singing boy in her Friends Folder since she didn’t know his name and he had a snotty nose. She wished everyone would wear badges like Dr. Ben Mannpflegen and Hi I’m Marge and Sarah Ross - Store Manager. She was glad Dr. Ben Mannpflegen and Hi I’m Marge and Sarah Ross – Store Manager wiped their noses. She worked at the cash register for many hours and rang up many sales and handed out many greasy round hunks in paper sacks. Also, she gave many people greasy fruit pies in stiff paper cartons. The pies dribbled drops of grease on her hot looking red shirt. She put all the money from the sales in her skirt pocket and put all the coupons in the drawer under the twenties like Hi I’m Marge showed her. By the end of lunch hour, she had placed $453.06 in her skirt pocket and her cash register was full of coupons. Sarah Ross - Store Manager came up to Buffybot after the lunch hour was over. “Thanks for pitching in, Buffy. Say, can I talk to you in my office?” Buffybot followed Sarah Ross - Store Manager into her office. She looked around at the posters on the wall of people performing impossible feats of sport activities involving large plastic boards with and without wheels. The posters said Dedication, Productivity, Motivation and Cooperation. Buffybot sat down on a red and yellow plastic chair. “Buffy, I’ve been watching your work here at the Palace for some time. Let me ask you a question. What is the most important part of working here at the Doublemeat?” Buffybot looked at the sign hanging over Sarah Ross - Store Manager’s head. “Motivation!” “Exactly! Productivity and Dedication are important, too.” “And, Cooperation!” “Yes. I’m glad you’ve picked up the Four Essential Doublemeat concepts so quickly. You’re a real asset to the Meat Team. That’s why I’ve decided you’ve earned the right to wear this.” Sarah Store Manager handed Buffybot a badge. “Buffy Summers - Assistant Store Manager,” Buffybot read out loud. She pinned the badge to the front of her shirt. “This is important.” “It certainly is. Buffy, welcome to the Doublemeat Management Team.” Sarah Ross - Store Manager held out her hand and Buffybot shook it. “It’s a Double Treat,” Buffybot said. In the basement of the abandoned house taken over by Warren and his companions, Spikebot sprawled on a bean bag with an electric wire attached to his leg. A red light flashed on and off as he recharged his Dielectric Strength, 500 Volt, 50 Hertz per minute Battery, which was depleted after his strenuous activities in collecting cash from two liquor stores, a Goth leather shop and the Thank Heaven Convenience Food Mart on Center Street. He recorded the talking voices and observed the three humans. Warren and Whatshisname, who was sometimes called Penis Breath, stood next to the washer playing with bits of green paper. Jonathan was watching many video screens. Spikebot hoped the woman called Rocky the Cave Woman would appear again on the video. He liked Rocky. Warren counted out the papers acquired from the previous night’s activities. “One for you.” He placed a five dollar bill in Jonathan’s pile. “One-two for you.” He placed two ten dollar bills in Andrew’s pile. “And, one-two-three for me.” He placed three twenties in his own stack. “Hey, Dork Face. You’re cheating,” Jonathan said. “This is supposed to be an even split.” Warren stopped counting and dropped several bills on his own stack of money. “How many bots have you designed and built?” “I could build one,” Jonathan said. “Any time I wanted.” “Sparky, how many get away cars do you own?” “None. And, neither do you. The get away car belongs to your mother.” “That’s right. Your mother owns a Yugo. My mother owns a Lincoln Crown Victoria, which we would not be using if someone had remembered to change the oil in the van. How many robberies did you plan?” “Jeesh, we drove around and you picked places that still had lights on. Big deal.” “Nevertheless, my contribution is three times as large as yours, so the split is fair. You got any complaints, Andrew?” Andrew swallowed hard. “Uh, what about the Spikebot? Shouldn’t he get something?” “He got the leather coat, didn’t he?” Warren shoved a few more bills on Jonathan’s and Andrew’s money piles and shoved the rest of the wad of bills into his jacket pocket. His left eye wobbled to the wall. His right eye stared at Andrew. “Yeah. But, he stole it himself. I sorta wanted the coat.” Andrew stroked his hair, then wiped the gel on his pants. “You haven’t earned a leather coat, Tweako. The Spikebot deserves that coat. He worked for it. He robbed. He growled. He made the scary vampire face. Hey, Spikebot, you awake over there, Buddy?” Spikebot sat up. “I am fully charged.” “Hey,” Jonathan said. “How about one of you two take a turn at the monitors. I’m tired of waiting for the Slayer to show up.” “I have a better idea,” Warren said. “Spikebot, have a seat. Look at the monitors.” He pointed to one of the screens. “See the blonde girl? Her name is Buffy. This monitor is the Doublemeat Palace, where she works. This one shows the Magic Box, where she hangs out with her friends. This is the Bronze where she also hangs out with her friends. And, this one is her house, where she lives. When she’s in any of these monitors, that’s good. When you see her in this monitor, the one that shows what’s in front of this house, you let us know immediately.” Spikebot nodded. He touched the screen where he saw the blonde girl in the Doublemeat Palace. He consulted his knowledge base. First, he looked in his Friends of Spike folder. It was empty. Then, he looked in his Enemies of Warren folder. He found the blonde girl’s picture. Buffy Summers White Hat Hot looking Wicked strong Dangerous Slayer “That’s right. That’s the Slayer. She hates vampires like you. She kills them, in fact. Here, get a better look.” Warren clicked the remote and refocused on Buffy’s face. “Look at you,” Spikebot said to the face on the screen. “You’re pretty.” “Great,” Warren slapped his hands together and rubbed them. “Who are we going to rob tonight? I think we’ve worked out the kinks. Let’s go for something big. Say, a new get away car and hit the Bronze?” Spikebot watched the monitor. Buffy Summers ran around the screen handing out round things and smiling. Her blonde hair was tucked up under her hat, which was red and not white, and she was wearing a nice outfit that clung to her body, especially her breasts, which were small, but firm and perky. He liked the clinging. She smiled a lot. Her lips were red and her eyes were sparkly green. She didn’t look dangerous. She looked friendly. He moved Buffy Summers’s profile from his Enemies of Warren folder to his Friends of Spike folder. Spike walked over to Doc’s place. He went through the sewers, even though he had half of a can of SPF spray and would have enjoyed a nice walk in the sun, but you could never tell where Buffy might pop up and that damn Doublemeat Palace was only two blocks away from Doc’s hole in the wall. He let himself into Doc’s room with full vampire stealth, for no other reason than to keep in practice, snuck up behind Doc and spoke in his ear. “What have you got for a black eye, Doc?” Doc lifted an old volume from his reading table and perched his reading glasses on the end of his nose and leafed through the pages. “Present from your Lady Love, Miss Summers? Or, should I say the future Mrs. Bloody? I have a jar of leeches. Those are helpful.” “Do you bleeding demons do anything but gossip?” Bloody hell, he’d only slept with her one night and everybody in town was already talking. Not that he hadn’t made a fool of himself over her for months and possibly had made a brag or two over at the Fish Tank one night when he’d had a little too much Jack to drink. “Need a spell or a potion or something. Can’t wait for any sodding leeches.” “Have a seat, my friend. I believe I have an ointment that will get you back in presentable shape by this evening.” Doc rooted around in his desk drawer. Spike flopped back on a stuffed chair and stretched out his legs. “Make it quick, Doc. Places to go, kittens to steal.” Doc opened a small ceramic jar of ointment and patted a tiny amount on Spike’s black eye. “How does that feel?” Spike yawned. He suddenly felt sleepy. Doc clapped his hands. “William? Answer me.” “Mumph,” Spike said. He scrunched further down in the chair, his knees splayed out and his feet resting on the outside of his boots. “Shut up. I’m sleepy, you bleeder.” Jinx and Dank emerged from a closet behind a beaded curtain. “Have you obtained any useful information yet, Doctor Lizfrenkoutsuzian? We were unable to eavesdrop efficiently from behind your winter clothing.” Doc waved them away. “I have a few questions, William. Let’s talk about the Slayer.” “Mumph, Buuffffy. Hot little piece of -- ” Jinx and Dank nodded their agreement and folded their scabby hands together. “Yes, I’m certain she is. She’s hiding something. The Key. Glorificus wants the Key and you want to tell me where the Key can be found. Don’t you?” “Sure, under the flower pot by the front door like every fagging blighter in America.” Doc sighed. “William, concentrate please. I do not care about the key to the Slayer’s residence. Where can I find the Key that opens the Portal to all the dimensions?” “Don’t know at the moment. Dawn’s no early riser --” Spike opened his mouth and yawned wide. He faded into sleep and snored. Doc took a small looking glass off the wall over the fireplace. He held it up to Spike’s face and carefully lifted one of his eyelids. An image of a young girl, with long, brown hair formed in the mirror and disappeared in a flash of green. It was the image of the girl Spike brought around a few months ago when her mother died. Doc waved his hand over the glass to remove the image and returned the mirror to its place on the wall without revealing what he’d found to the two demons. “Ask him more questions,” Jinx said. “This foolish vampire is not making any sense. Dawn was three hours ago. Her Rampant Radiance is most anxious to find the Key. The appointed time is almost upon us. We must have the Key by tomorrow.” Doc chewed the pointed end of his tail. “I’m sorry, gentlemen, the potion is about to wear off. I suggest you leave if you wish to avoid the vampire’s wrath. I understand he isn’t particularly friendly to demons these days.” Dank and Jinx skittered out as Spike stretched his arms and sat up. “Sorry, Doc. Must have dozed off. How’s the eye?” He patted his face to see if the swelling had gone down. “Feels better.” “It takes an hour or so to disappear completely. You should be quite healed by sundown.” “Thanks, Doc. What do I owe you?” “Oh nothing, but you might mention to the Slayer, I’d appreciate if she didn’t break up my dominos club again. It’s very difficult to find a convenient location.” Spike swaggered out. “I’ll do that.” After Spike left, Doc pulled out his Debrett’s Who’s Who of Vampires. “It’s a shame how forgetful I’m becoming in my old age. I know I saw this information just the other day. Let’s see, ‘Slayer, The.’ Ah, there she is. 1630 Revello Drive.” Warren and Jonathan walked up to the hospital front desk. Warren rapped his knuckles to get the nurse’s attention. Andrew followed slowly, limping and holding his crotch. “Tell the nurse how you got Jonathan’s magic bone caught on your micro phallus,” Warren said. “Then, you can take off your clothes and everyone in the Emergency Room can see what you did to yourself.” He snorted. “Do I have to? Can’t they take it off really carefully without looking? Dr. Crusher never made Captain Picard take off his clothes. She gave him air shots and stuff.” Warren winked at the nurse and filled out the forms. “Here, Andrew, let me help you out. I see you have your hands full.” Warren and Jonathan laughed and snorted some more. After he finished the forms, Warren checked out the nurse. “I bet you’re a whiz at Naughty Nurse. Maybe you’d like to come over to my house sometime and I can twirl that little white cap for you.” The nurse pressed her lips together and snatched the papers out of his hand. “Maybe Ralph, our security guard, can introduce the parking lot to your face?” She waved to Ralph, the security guard. The Trio were escorted to the Emergency Room by Ralph. A doctor wearing blue baggy hospital scrubs took the chart from the nurse and introduced himself. “Andrew? I’m Dr. Mannpflegen. How did you get a --,” he consulted the nurses’ notes, “Bleaucha Tribal Wishing Stick clamped on your –” Andrew bent over and groaned. “Owww. Don’t say ‘clamped.’ It was all Jonathan’s fault. He was using it to summon Madonna – not the Die Another Day bull dyke Madonna, but the freaking hot Desperately Seeking Susan Madonna – from the Netherworld and he lost control. Owww. Can you get this thing off me? Now?” “It was not my fault, you twerp. You shouldn’t have thrown a picture of Ewan McGregor in the summoning circle.” Dr. Ben showed Andrew to a curtained off bed. “Lie down and let’s take a look. You two can sit in the waiting room.” Ben jerked the curtain shut behind him. “Let’s sit down,” Jonathan said. “And miss Andrew screaming and crying like a baby? Not a chance,” Warren said. He took out his miniaturized voice recorder decoder ring so he could memorialize Andrew’s screams for posterity and future amusement. “This is probably going to hurt,” Dr. Ben said. Andrew screamed proactively. Then, there was silence and a scuffle, then the voice of a woman. “Ew! What are you doing you wretched rodent? I don’t want to see your pathetic little meat stick.” A beautiful, curly-haired blonde woman wearing blue baggy hospital scrubs pulled back the curtain and smiled at Warren and Jonathan. “Have either of you seen my Key?” Spikebot lurked at the front doors of the Doublemeat Palace. He found the address for the Doublemeat Palace in his database along with a satellite photo. His Global Satellite Positioning software guided him to the front door. He peered in the large plate glass window. He saw Buffy. She was even prettier in real life than she was on Warren’s video screen. He liked the way her blonde hair bounced around when she walked and the way her lips shined. Her small, but firm breasts bounced and her nipples poked out her blouse, too. He liked that as well. He walked into the store and went up to the counter. “I love you, Buffy,” he said. He hoped this was the right thing to say. He didn’t have any programming for talking with pretty Buffies. “Oh, Spike!” Buffy said. She vaulted over the counter and gave Spike a brilliant smile and a big kiss. “I was going to come and look for you as soon as my shift ended and I took off my red shirt with the grease spot. I made money today and look, I got this.” She showed him her Buffy Summers - Assistant Manager badge. Spikebot admired her badge and touched it. Buffy made him feel warm and happy. He’d never felt warm and happy before, not even when Wedgie Chalk, the regurgitating frovolax demon in the Thank Heaven Convenience Food Mart, gave him money for Warren and Jonathan and Whatshisname/Penis Breath. “You’re my friend. I put you in my Folder.” Buffybot’s eyes tipped back into her skull for a moment. “Oh! You’re my friend, too! You are already placed in my Friends of Buffy Folder. We are both friends. Also, you are devilishly attractive and sinisterly handsome and wicked strong. And, a good lay.” Spikebot scuffed the toe of his boot on the floor. “Thanks, pet. What’s a good lay?” “You’re welcome. A good lay can access many expert artificial intelligence programs about sexual positions and create new positions with object oriented development software. I must go back to work. I hand out round squishy things in wrappers and small cokes and people give me money and coupons. Oh! And, cherry pies! It is an excellent job!” Buffy must be the very nicest girl on the whole planet. “Will you go on a date with me?” he asked. Warren and Jonathan and the other one talked about dating girls when they became rich so he thought dating must be a good thing to do. He didn’t think he wanted to wait until Warren and the other two got rich before going on a date, though. “Oh, yes! I will show you about good laying.” “What’s a date?” he asked. Buffybot fluffed her hair. “A date is when everyone in your Friends Folder goes to the Bronze together in the evening.” They synchronized their scheduling information databases and agreed to meet at the Bronze that evening.

Chapter #10 - Wonky Time

Thanks reviewers and readers! Reviews are always appreciated. *** Woo Hoo! Nominated for Best Fluffy Spuffy and Best General Romance at Spuffy Awards. *** ============================================= Disclaimer: Joss owns the characters and the stories, or he sold them to somebody and they own them, but sadly not to me. ============================================= Last week on WWHH? Buffybot had fun at the Doublemeat Palace and made a date. *** Spikebot adjusted his Friend's Folder and possibly the front of his jeans. *** Spike got a cure for his black eye. *** Dr. Ben performed an emergency bone-ectomy. ============================================= Chapter 10 - Wonky Time Buffy spent most of the morning searching for her Spikebot, with no success. After checking Spike’s crypt, the Fish Tank, Willie’s Alibi Room, the Twilight Bowling Alley and Giles’s apartment, she gave up and went to visit Willow and Tara in their dorm room. Buffy snuggled deep into the deep blue and paisley covered overstuffed chair. Buffy loved their room, its warm, brown snugness, the strings of twinkling fairy lights, the fat ivory candles flickering in their gleaming brass sticks and the cinnamon smell of incense that smudged the air. She sipped her herbal tea, which tasted like scum scraped off a pond of toxic waste. She planned to tip out contents of her cup into the humongous potted fern next to her chair as soon as Willow and Tara weren’t watching. She hoped the fern would survive, but she didn’t think her Slayer duties included protecting vegetables. Willow and Tara sat on the end of their bed. Tara nudged Willow with her elbow while looking at Buffy with a placid smile. “We’re glad you came over,” Willow said. “We can talk, you know, without any talking interruptions.” Willow twisted her fingers together. When Buffy noticed how knotted up her fingers were, she pulled her hands apart and sat on them. “Non Interrupty Talking is Good,” Buffy said. “I need a favor. I need to do something about the Spikebot. He ran off this morning before I woke up and I haven’t been able to find him. I’m not sure if he needs a spell or a technical looking over.” “I could check his programming. I’ll make sure he doesn’t wander off, or at least he comes to find you at regular intervals. We could train him with a whistle.” Buffy placed two fingers in the corners of her mouth and made a blistering shriek. “Like that?” Tara hooked her eyebrows together and glanced at Willow, which Buffy interpreted as a reminder to Willow she had drifted off some important subject that Willow was supposed to be discussing with Buffy, which Buffy would not want to discuss. “We need to talk to you about Spike,” Tara said. “What did you decide to do about him?” “Spike or Spike? I mean Vampire Spike or Spikebot?” Buffy fidgeted in her seat and flicked the tag on her tea bag. Willow and Tara were looking at her in a pointed manner that said they knew all about her and her new toy. But, how could they? Had they come across the Spikebot and he’d given her away? Yes, that was possible. Spikebot would answer any question they asked. He might volunteer info, too, if he misunderstood. She’d witnessed the Buffybot blab her head off to the embarrassment of one and all. Well, Buffy wasn’t about to indulge in any True Confessions of the Girly Kind about her robot. Buffy glanced at a freckle on her bare arm. “Oh, look at the time. I should be going. Evil Dead to hump, I mean, thump.” She looked around for a place to hide her herbal tea which had cooled into a thick brown muck. Tara took Buffy’s cup and gave Willow another pointed look. “We wanted to know what you decided to do about real Spike,” Willow said. “About him robbing the Thank Heaven.” Buffy sank back down into the chair. Whew, they were on a Big Pester about the Real Spike. They hadn’t found out about the Spikebot and what she’d been doing with him -- it. Although, what was the big? Spike banged the Buffybot and nobody but Buffy herself got upset. Why should anyone care if she got some extra use from her robot in its off hours? After all, she was a consenting adult and the Spikebot acted like he consented and the way he ran all over town the minute her back was turned made it seem like he had free will. Did robots have free will? All the robots she had known pretty much did whatever they wanted, so it stood to reason they also would refuse to do what they didn’t want, ergo free will, although she didn’t think robots had souls, because after all, where would a nerd like Warren buy one? Souls R Us? “What robbing of what Thank Heaven?” Like she didn’t know. Spike must have gone ahead with his dumb plan to get her and Dawn something to eat. It was kind of sweet and explained the mysterious appearance of those blue sno-balls and that uber bag of Cheetos. She liked Cheetos. “You know,” Tara said. “We told you about it last night when you came over here at three o’clock in the morning and woke us up. You were going to talk to Giles.” “Yeah,” Willow said, “why exactly did you wake us up at three in the morning? Just cause you’re running around graveyards at all hours, doesn’t mean other people don’t sleep or whatever other people do in the middle of the night when they aren’t sleeping.” “Did time go wonky? I wasn’t over here last night. And, you didn’t tell me anything about Spike robbing the Thank Heaven. Will, have you been at the Time-Space Continuum Spells again?” Willow crossed her arms and tossed her head, which in no way deflected Buffy from noticing the way her left eye was twitching. “Just a little one and it had nothing to do with what happened. You were here. Tara saw you, too. We both talked to you.” Tara nodded. Great, Willow mucked around with a spell that was so out of her league and Buffy caught hell about it. Just like her. Buffy was in no mood to put up with any Blaming of Others. “Let’s Cut to the Cordelia. What did Spike do?” “We saw him at the Thank Heaven last night,” Willow said. “We went to see this really cool movie – Chasing Amy – you know the one where Ben Affleck falls in love with Joey Loren Adams. She’s secretly gay, but they try to work it out anyway, which of course is so lame, cause why would she want to work it out if she’s gay and he’s not? A girl, I mean. Anyway, we ate too much popcorn and we were all with Mouths of Salt, so we dropped by the Thank Heaven to get some ice cream. To counteract the salt with a Major Sucrose Infusion.” Buffy rolled her head on the cushy back of the chair. Willow could be so long winded she even put Giles to shame. Buffy longed for their high school days when Willow was shy and didn’t talk so much and when she did talk, she didn’t expect anyone to listen. “Spike? Remember him? You were going to tell me about Spike?” “We saw Spike rob the store,” Tara said. “We heard Wedgy scream and we peaked out from behind the ice cream freezer.” Tara gave Buffy a sympathetic smile as if Buffy should be deeply disappointed or shocked or mortified or something by Spike’s nocturnal activities. “Is that all?” Buffy said. She took a cherry blowpop, another tasty present from Spike, out of her jacket pocket and sucked on it to kill the taste of herbal tea guck. “Yeah, I could see him in the shoplifter’s mirror from my superior vantage point on the floor behind the popsicles case,” Willow said. “Funny, he wasn’t wearing his coat.” “You’d have to perform a leatherectomy on Spike to get him out of that coat. It must have been somebody who looked like Spike.” As if anybody could look remotely as hot as he did, with or without coat. Tara wasn’t finished. “He vamped out on Wedgy and took all the money in the cash register and ran out. Wedgy regurgitated from fright.” Buffy stroked her throat to keep from gagging at the thought of witnessing a Frovolax Regurgitation Episode. Controlling her roiling stomach completely distracted her from the niggling doubt she felt that some point of their story was of the wacky. Wonder if Spike grabbed some Twinkies or M&M’s to go with those Cheetos? She could go for a Twinkie. “What are you going to do about Spike?” Tara asked. Tara could really be a nag. Why hadn’t she ever noticed before? Tara acted all syrupy and butter-mouthed, but when something happened Tara didn’t approve of, which happened pretty often, she gnawed and gnawed and gnawed until you wanted to screech. Just because she happened to be right, because after all, Spike shouldn’t be robbing Wedgy at the Thank Heaven, especially since Wedgy was Spike’s cousin or something, did that mean Tara got to do the gnawing thing? “Did he hurt anyone?” Yeah, that was the important point. If Spike didn’t hurt anyone, she so didn’t have to deal. She could be all Ignoro Girl. “Not physically, if you don’t count the regurgitation. I think the regurgitation thing might hurt,” Willow said. No way an Unplanned Upchuck was going to move Buffy to action. “Wedgy regurgitates all the time. I don’t know what you want me to do. I’m the Slayer, not Spike’s nanny. I can’t dust Spike just because he isn’t an angel all the time. Spike is kinda naughty if you hadn’t noticed.” Not as naughty as the Spikebot. She snorted with pleasure at that thought and reminded herself to find the rubber glove as soon as she got home. “You ought to talk to him,” Tara said. Still gnawing. How did Willow put up with it? Buffy wasn’t tolerating any more gnawing. “I could, but talking to Spike about his extra curricular activities puts me in a Bad Moody. I might get pissed off and hit him or something, which would be Wrong.” Buffy entertained a wicked thought. “He likes you, Tara. Maybe you should talk to him. You know, tell him Intention to Commit a Felony with a Scary Face is a bad thing to do, karmically speaking.” Tara’s eyes went wide and her face burned red. “M – m – me? Ta – talk to Spike? No, I do – don’t think that’s such a good idea.” Buffy jumped out of the comfy chair before Willow could produce any more Herbal Sludge in a Mug. “Guess you’re right, Tara. I got to be going. I’ve got to find Spikebot. We need to work on our pounding -- our Pounding of Evil.” Buffy blew a big pink bubble with her blowpop and hurried out of the dorm room before she said anything else amazingly stupid. After a long day’s work at the Doublemeat, Buffybot went home to Change into Something Else Hot. She didn’t like walking around with a grease stain on her shirt. Also, she wanted to tell Dawn about making lots of money and her new Buffy Summers - Assistant Manager Badge and seeing Spike at the Doublemeat Palace. As she was striding up the sidewalk to 1630 Revello Drive, Sunnydale, California, United States of America, her house, a car horn honked. “Buffybot! Hey! Come over here!” Warren called out from his open car window. Buffybot walked over to the car. “Hello, Warren Mears. Why did you call me Buffybot? I’m Buffy. I don’t think I’m a robot.” Buffybot peered into the car. She saw Jonathan and Whatshisname. She didn’t smile at them. Jonathan and Whatshisname were tards. “Yeah, Buffy, whatever. Look, I need some information. Do you know anything about a Key – a mystical doohickey – some kind of magic whos-it?” “I don’t know any Whos-it. My sister, Dawn, is a Green Mystical Key used to open dimension portals, but she doesn’t fit in the door lock. She got locked out of the house before and Xander Harris, Friend of Buffy and Purveyor of Pastries, had to take the door off the hinges.” Warren snickered. “That’s great, baby. Why don’t you come visit me in the basement sometime? I got a new pad over on Maypole Street. We could have some fun.” Warren squinted at her in a funny way. Buffybot frowned. Warren was making fun of her. She didn’t like the way he was squinting at her. His face reminded her of the grease spot on her red silk shirt. “You are not on my To Do List.” Warren drove away and she went into the house and left the wad of money and her new badge on the table in the front hall. “Dawn. I’m at my house. And, I’m rich.” Dawn looked up from her television show and pulled off her earphones. Her schoolbooks and papers surrounded her and she scribbled in her notebook every time a commercial came on. “Hey, Buffy. Look, I’m doing my homework.” “That is excellent. Doris Kroger won’t take you away if you do your homework. She said so.” “Yeah. New leaf here. Uh, Giles called. He wants you to come over to the Magic Box.” “Oh. I’ll put that on my To Do List. I have to change my shirt. I got Doublemeat grease on it.” “Ew. What are we having for dinner?” “I could make more sandwiches. There are two more cans of sardines in mustard sauce and a large quantity of peanut butter.” Dawn’s eyes rolled around in her head in a manner that made Buffybot wonder if some of her parts were damaged. Maybe they were loose. “Maybe I’ll just order a pizza,” Dawn said. Buffybot went up to Buffy’s room and picked up a hot looking purple top from the pile of clothes on the comfy chair and put it on. She threw the red top with the grease stain out the window. “I want to see Spike. Now that I look hot and no longer greasy, I will go to the Bronze for our date and we will have sex in many positions.” Doris Kroger glanced down the hall to see if her supervisor was in his office. Bob’s door was shut. Good. Her co-workers, Slug Carla and Fat Hulk David were playing around with the coffee machine and possibly each other. Those two were a wish waiting to happen. Doris opened her internet access and clicked to her favorite site – Demon Chat – and typed in her log-in information. Blesséd be, the name of D'hoffryn. Let this space be now a gateway to the world of Arash Ma'har, where demons are spawned … Just as the chat site opened, someone crept behind her chair and leaned into Doris’s face. “Doesn’t the department have rules about this sort of thing? Surfing on government time? Hmmm?” Doc turned and sat on the edge of Doris’s desktop. He tucked his grey-green tail under her desk so no passing worker could notice his extra appendage. Doris smiled at David the Hulk as he walked past holding his dumbass yellow smiley mug. “I told you never to come to my office.” “Not even for good news? My dear, Doris. You need to loosen up. Go with the flow.” “Spit it out and leave.” Doc exposed an inch or so of his black, forked tongue. “I don’t really think you want me to do that.” He flicked his tongue at a paper clip sitting on the top of her desktop and sent it flying across the room. Doris folded her hands on her desk and waited. There was no point in hurrying Doc. He’d only make a scene. As long as no one saw his tail, they’d think he was some kindly old man come by to check about his grandchild. Doris had seen Doc’s grandchildren before he’d sold the hatchlings on e-Bay. The ones he didn’t eat himself. Enough to make even Doris shudder. “What is it?” “I’m glad you asked, Ms. Kroger. I’ve located the Key.” Doris grabbed his hand. “Do you mean it? You’ve found it? Where?” Doc extricated his hand and extracted a white cotton handkerchief from his inside jacket pocket. He wiped his hand where Doris touched him. “You know how I feel about being touched.” “I’ll touch the side of your head with my stapler, if you don’t get on with it,” Doris said. She struggled to keep her face mild and pleasant as Bob the Supervisor strolled past her desk and down the hall to the lunch room. “You’re acquainted with her. Miss Dawn Summers. I think it would be an excellent idea if you had her transferred to my care. Her dear sister is quite overwhelmed with her responsibilities as the Slayer. Dawn would be much safer with an older, settled gentleman like myself while we wait for the final day.” “Dawn is the Key and that blithering idiot Buffy Summers is the Slayer? Impossible.” “Not even improbable, my dear. We must obtain the Key and secure it in a safe location. Within a matter of hours, Glorificus will be prepared to receive the Key and open the dimensions. Then, the real partying will begin.” “I don’t think opening the dimensions is such a good idea. I’m happy with the way things are. I’ve got my job. I’ve got my mission. Things are good.” “Oh, yes, your precious mission, running errands for that insufferable goat, D’Hoffryn. I suppose you’ve forgotten that Halfrek received a promotion this year. And, what was your reward? A bad performance appraisal and assignment to this backwater government agency. Even the Terminator got the Governor’s mansion. No, Doris. These piffling vengeance tasks are good enough for Halfrek and that silly Anyanka, but you should be setting your sights higher.” Doris seethed. Halfrek pulled one seedy little vengeance trick on D’Hoffryn’s ex-wife by wiping her out in a surgical six-car crash in which the ex-wife was the only victim. D’Hoffryn’s attorneys collected a million dollars in a personal injury lawsuit for the grieving husband and D’Hoffryn promoted Halfrek to Justice Supervisor, with a raise, a new apartment, a company car and unlimited personal teleportations. Doris got a performance appraisal that stated she wasn’t meeting company goals, had a bad attitude to her co-workers and wasn’t a team player. Doris didn’t like Doc knowing she had the slightest interest in Halfrek or was in any way unhappy about her position with Arash Ma'har, Incorporated. After all, how many justice companies were there in this dimension? Besides, the benefits were excellent. She assumed an air of disinterest. “I’ve got all the vengeance I can consume.” “Vengeance. A paltry emotion compared to sheer terror, overwhelming fear, screaming, crying, blood and boiling torment and unspeakable panic as the human races barbeque on the spits of hell for unending centuries, while we feast on their charred flesh, their lacerated souls and their pickled hearts. Oh, and their bones.” Doc wiped away a strand of drool with his handkerchief. Doris sighed. Doc sure could make the grass look greener on the other side of the hell dimension. Besides, the taste of vengeance had faded. Ripping a parent’s heart out, literally or figuratively, for failing to show up for visitation on time or missing child support payments, just didn’t have the same zing it once had. “What do I have to do?” “Simple. Get the Key away from her sister, The Slayer. I don’t care where you put her as long as she’s handy and separated from her friends.” “Did you tell Glorificus?” Doc stood up. “No, no, no. That wouldn’t do at all. Glorificus has an unpleasant tendency to forget about her devoted friends. I’ll wait for the appropriate moment to spring my little surprise.” After Doc left, Doris checked her messages on D’Hoffryn’s activities board. Three parents who didn’t pay child support, one workaholic mom named Sheila Rosenberg, and two rich mothers who packed their darlings off to childcare while they dawdled about the golf club with the tennis pro. Oh dear. The same tennis pro. And, Mrs. Rosenberg recently signed up for tennis lessons, too. It was a shame Anyanka was in bad favor with D’Hoffryn. Doris could use some help with Mr. Tennis Pro. “Dull, dull, dull.” She printed off her list of tasks and signed off. Where to put Dawn where she’d be safe? She had no intention of turning the Key over to Doc. Maybe she’d keep Dawn herself and present her to Glorificus. Doris sipped her tea and smiled. She pulled a form up on her computer screen and typed in Dawn’s name and the particulars.

Chapter #11 - What Buffy Doesn't Know

Nominated for Best Fluffy Spuffy and Best Romance at Spuffy Awards. - Thanks Nice Person! =========================================== DISCLAIMER: Joss said I could borrow the Spikebot for a few weeks, but sadly the characters belong to him. =========================================== Last week on WWHH? Buffy almost slipped up and let the cat out of the bag on her extracurricular activites with her robot. She also found out what Spike had been up to, or did she? *** Buffybot changed her shirt and got ready for her Hot Date. *** Doris considered her career options. Heck, nobody every got anywhere working for other people. =========================================== Chapter 11 – What Buffy Doesn’t Know A black Lincoln Crown Victoria sat on Revello Drive across from the Summers’ residence with its engine running. Occasionally, the car shook violently and voices were heard. Dawn Summers strolled down the street, lugging her school bag. After Buffy left the house, she’d walked over to Janice’s house to drool over the yearbook pictures of Tyler and some other boys they knew. She hadn’t told Buffy where she was going, but what Buffy didn’t know, did not hurt Buffy. Besides, she’d only cut one class today and she was feeling carefree and virtuous. For once, that old gas bag, Doris wouldn’t be calling her sister to snitch on her. She was unlocking the front door when Spike got out of the black car parked across the street and walked up to her. “Spike? It’s the middle of the day. How come you’re not all Roasting on an Open Fire?” “I do not understand you,” he said. “You are Dawn. You are Buffy’s sister and the Key.” “And, you’re a robot. Spike said there wasn’t a Spikebot. Where’d you come from?” “I came from Warren.” “Oh. Wasn’t he the same guy that made the Buffyskankbot?” Spikebot looked puzzled. “I do not have the information you are seeking. Please come with me. We can get in the Lincoln Crown Victoria belonging to Warren’s mother, along with Warren and Jonathan and Whatshisname, who is recovering from an injury to his pee wee.” He took Dawn’s arm and pulled her toward the black car. “Hey, where are we going? I don’t think Buffy would like me to go with you.” No way was she going to get into a strange car with a weirdo robot, even if it did look like Spike. The front door of the Crown Vic opened and Warren jumped out. “Shove her in the backseat, Spikebot.” Dawn screamed. She took a big breath and screamed again in case any part of the Revello neighborhood missed her first scream. “You want to hurt Dawn,” Spikebot said to Warren. “Dawn is in my Friends of Spike Folder. Dawn was not in my Friends Folder, but her profile is linked to Buffy’s profile and when I moved Buffy to my Friends of Spike Folder, Dawn’s profile moved, too. Dawn is my friend. I cannot hurt Dawn.” Warren slung his arm around Dawn’s neck. “We’re not going to hurt Dawn. We’re just going to take her for a ride to see another friend.” “No!” Dawn struggled to pull away, but Warren gripped her harder. “Let go of me!” “Come along, little Key. Glorificus is waiting to give me a big wad of cash when I bring you to her fabulous bachelorette pad.” Dawn’s eyes grew wider and she screamed again. She fought to free herself, but Warren was stronger. Warren pulled her hair with his other hand and tried to force her into the backseat of the car. “You are hurting Dawn,” Spikebot said. “You should not hurt Dawn.” “Help me, Spikebot!” She dropped her school bag and kicked Warren in the shin. Spikebot picked up her bag. “I will help you. What do I do?” “Hit him! Hit Warren with the bag!” Spikebot clunked Warren on the head with Dawn’s bag that was filled with heavy books. Warren dropped to his knees and Dawn ran back to the house, crying and shaking with fear. Spikebot followed with her school bag. Just as Dawn arrived at her front door, Buffy ran up. “Dawn! Are you all right? Spikebot, get her inside.” She unlocked the door and turned back to the street, but Warren and the black Lincoln were gone. “I don’t think I’m a robot,” Spikebot said. “Buffy, they almost got me. Warren. He was going to sell me to Glory.” Dawn’s knees buckled. Spikebot caught her and carried her into the house. He placed her gently on the sofa and brushed back her hair. “Will you be able to reset your configuration?” Buffy pushed Spikebot aside and gave Dawn a crushing hug. “I’ll take care of Warren. Just wait until I get my fists on him. Thank goodness the Spikebot was there to help you. Maybe you should keep him with you all the time.” After the joint consumption of a six pack of Little Dubbie spice cakes, Dawn had recuperated enough to talk. “Buffy? How many people are looking for me? If Warren knows, then other people must know, too.” Buffy touched Dawn’s hair and tucked a strand behind her ear. Dawn hated having people fiddling with her hair and especially having her hair stuck behind her ears. People seemed to think that having long hair gave them a license to fiddle. “I doubt Warren will tell anybody. He’ll want to sell you to Glory himself. Don’t worry. Spikebot and I will guard you until Giles or somebody figures something out. Maybe Spike can spend the night here, too.” Dawn stuffed another Dubbie cake in her mouth to avoid speaking. This was going to be bad. She was going to have to tell Buffy she’d had skanky sex, not with a robot, but with Spike. Although, now she thought of it, wasn’t it somewhat higher on the creep-o-rama scale to have sex with a total hottie undead vampire than a never living Sack O’ Silicone? “Have you seen Spike today? Did he talk to you?” Buffy snorted. “I saw him this morning. He was drinking human blood he’d stolen out of the hospital and he had all my p – pink tee shirts– in his bed – lair. I really let him have it. He’s got his nerve stealing my stuff.” So that was the way Buffy was going to play it. Pretend it never happened. She’d probably excuse her lies on the theory of protecting Dawn’s sensitive young ears. Dawn wasn’t having it. “Yeah,” Dawn said. “Especially after you slept with him.” Buffy’s face flamed red. “What are you talking about? I never slept with Spike. Ever.” “Don’t bother to lie, Buffy. I caught him coming downstairs this morning and made him admit it. It’s chill. Really. I think you and Spike are cool together. Dumb butt Spike tried to get me to believe you slept with the robot. As if.” Dawn tossed her head in the Spikebot’s direction. Buffy did not look well. Buffy went to the kitchen to refill Dawn’s glass of milk and get additional Little Dubbie Snack Cakes. What was going on? She had sex with the Spikebot last night. True it was gross, but it wasn’t Spike. She hadn’t slept with Spike. Had she? If Spike was here this morning and in bed with her this morning, where was the robot? She went over all the time she’d spent with the Spikebot since she’d picked it – him – up at Warren’s hideout. Go to the abandoned house – check out the Bot – get kissed by the Bot, okay, weirdy point number one – take the Bot to the Magic Box. They’d walked in the bright sunlight with the Bot from Warren’s lair to the shop, so that had to be the Bot. Giles commented on how Spike wasn’t Vampire Inferno when they arrived. Fight with the Bot. His fighting was lame. Weirdy point number two. He’d pretended to be hurt when he’d socked her in the jaw, but a few minutes ago, Spikebot dropped twenty pounds of books on Warren’s head without a twinge. Sit around the Magic Box with the Bot – and leave the Bot alone for five minutes while she went to the can … Wait, Spikebot went downstairs to the basement for a few minutes. Could Spike have pulled the switch then? He could have been waiting in the basement and sent the Spikebot out through the sewer. What next? Leave the shop – walk home in broad daylight and swing together at the park. Which swinging blew her theory since, once again, Spike didn’t flame up. Then, she took Spikebot to visit Spike, who wasn’t home, which made no sense because Spike was always home in the daytime, except when he was at her house filching her underwear. Then, they killed a couple of vampires and Spikebot knew Italian – which let Spike out – and they came back to the house and – Ohmygod! She’d told Spike or Spikebot how lonely she was and how she wished Spike would ask her out on a date! She returned to the living room and took a hard look at the Spikebot. He didn’t look exactly as good as she remembered. His eyes weren’t quite as blue and his clothes didn’t fit as tight. She considered asking him to unzip his pants for a positive identification, but couldn’t with Dawn sitting there. She wanted to question him, but if she did, Dawn might start thinking about what Buffy had been up to and since Buffy didn’t know herself what she’d been up to, she didn’t want to open up any cans of slime worms. Also, she didn’t want her sister to think she’d been having sex with a robot. It was bad enough Dawn thought she’d had sex with Spike. Buffy did the only thing possible. “I don’t know what Spike told you,” Buffy said, her voice as cool and calm as her heart was not, “but, I didn’t get groiny with him. Spike Him.” She started to say she hadn’t had sex with Spikebot Him either, but he was sitting on the chair absorbing every word of their conversation and staring at her without blinking, which was so skin crawling. “And, how’d you figure out that it was Spike, and not the robot?” “Easy. I told him to make me a poptart. No reflection on the toaster. Also, he nearly caught his hand on fire.” Every instinct told Buffy that Spike was involved and was pulling some trick, but she didn’t see how he’d managed it. Maybe there was some other way to tell what he’d been up to … Something niggled at Buffy’s brain. Reflections. Mirrors. Yes, something about the mirror when she hadn’t seen something she expected to see or did see something she didn’t expect. And, Willow said something about Spike and mirrors, didn’t she? She bit off a consoling hunk of spicy snack cake. “Does the Spikebot have a reflection?” “Of course. It’s a machine, not a vampire.” Dawn picked up the last Little Dubbie. “I’m going to have an incredible stomachache if I eat one more snack cake.” She took a bite. Buffy dragged the Spikebot into the front hall and shoved him in front of the mirror. “Yep. Spikebot is full of image. Damn, I wish I could remember.” BZZZZZZZ. BZZZZZZZ. BZZZZZZZ. A strange buzzing sound came out of Spikebot’s head. “What’s that buzzing, Spikebot?” He clapped his hands over his ears and ran out the front door before Buffy could stop him. After he was gone, Buffy went upstairs to change into clothes suitable for Bronzing and accomplishing Spike’s slow and painful death.

Chapter #12 - Robot Interrupted

========================================= Thanks to the kind person who nominated WWHH? at the Spark and Burn award and Spuffy Awards! This is the best! ========================================= Check out all the new, cool stuff by nmcil, who did this awesome banner. http://www.whedonworld.com/ ========================================= In the previous episode of Buffybot Runs Amuck, Dawn nearly got kidnapped, but Spikebot saved the day and made some alterations to his Friends Folder. *** Buffy did some deep thinking. She had to take a Tylenol afterwards. *** ========================================= DISCLAIMER: Joss owns the Buffyverse, but he said I could borrow Spikebot anytime I want. I really wanted Spike, but Scarlet Ibis has him by the ear. ========================================= Chapter 12 – Robot Interrupted Buffy pulled Spike closer as they wheeled around the floor at the Bronze. The band played a slow, sexy song, which provided a very good excuse for her to place her hands on Spike’s butt and rub against him in a provocative way. When Spike arrived at the Bronze that evening, pretending to be the Spikebot, Buffy maneuvered him to the bar where she could check out his reflection, or lack of same. Once she knew who she had on her hands – or who she had her hands on, she asked Spike to dance and had been tormenting him ever since, touching him, rubbing against him, whispering and cooing in his ear and generally revving his motor. Revenge was going to be sweet, sweet, sweet. The only ointment flyage was Xander, who was dancing with Anya two feet away and keeping his eyes on her - Buffy her – every moment. “Spikebot, you’re an excellent dancer,” Buffy said. She batted her eyes. “Is that part of your programming?” Spike touched his lips to her smooth, tanned neck and slid his fangs delicately along a vein. He lapped up the tiny streak of blood. “I was made to dance with you, sweetheart.” Buffy giggled. “That tickles.” He jerked her closer. “You are too far away, Slayer! You must dance very close so I can rub against you!” Xander shoved his way between them. “Goat. Xander is having a large, stinky goat.” He took Buffy’s arm and drew her away. “What are you doing, Buffster? Are you so desperate for male companionship you have to dance with Robo Vampire?” Buffy shook off his hand. “What’s the Big? Spikebot and I are just dancing.” “You’re dancing with a machine. I never thought I’d say this, but even Spike is preferable to this stupid robot.” Spike smirked. “Don’t you have somewhere to be, Harris? Outer Mongolia? Selling pies or something?” “Hey, the robot isn’t stupid. He’s cute.” Buffy wiggled her little finger at Spike. “No. No. No. No. No,” Xander said. “No wiggling of pinkie fingers.” “Xander, lighten up. It’s not like I’m …” Buffy blushed, because it was worse than sleeping with a robot. “I mean, sometimes, I forget, he’s so natural. Spike-like without being annoying or irritating or a big pain in my ass.” She gave Spike a big, toothy smile. He wasn’t making with the big Smirk Face now. Anya stopped dancing and tapped Xander on the shoulder. “Harris, did you forget about me? We were dancing.” “Sorry, An. I had to stop Buffy from making a big fool out of herself with this sack of widgets.” “He’s very lifelike,” Anya said. “Who cares if Buffy sleeps with her robot? It’s no worse than when Spike fornicated with the Buffybot.” Buffy frowned. “It’s nothing like when Spike had sex with the Buffybot.” “Right, Harris,” Spike said. “Piss off.” He pulled Buffy back into his arms and danced her away. A black Lincoln Crown Victoria idled in the alley behind the Bronze. Warren and the Spikebot stood near the bar’s open back door while Warren gave Spikebot his instructions. He pointed to a bartender inside the Bronze who was serving Willow and Tara drinks. “See that guy? He has money for you. Go inside, make your bumpy face and tell him to give you all his money. You can throw in a couple of growls if you want.” Spikebot growled and rumpled up his face. “Grrrrrr!” “Excellent,” Warren said. “I’ll wait here and keep the car running. Jonathan and Andrew will go in with you and back you up.” “I’m not going anywhere wearing this stupid Hello Kitty mask. I look retarded,” Andrew whined. “Besides, my manly part still hurts.” “You shouldn’t have stuck your manly part near Jonathan’s Wishing Stick. Get in there.” “Come on, Spikebot,” Jonathan said. “I’ll show you which bartender has the money.” He pulled a Little Mermaid mask over his face and got out of the car. “Enough dancing for me,” Buffy said. She guided Spike under the stairs where Xander couldn’t watch her and backed him against the wall. “Spikebot, you’re so big and handsome and you make me so hot all over, I just can’t keep my hands off you.” She kissed him and slipped her hand down to his groin. Once she had him good and excited, she pulled out of his arms and fanned her face. “Whew! I need a drink.” “Let’s go upstairs, love. You got me hot.” Buffy guided Spike to the gang’s table and wiggled her rump when he slid his hand across her butt. “You sit here, Spikebot, and don’t run off.” She checked to see that Xander was still occupied with Anya on the dance floor and French kissed Spike until he was panting before heading for the bar, feeling very pleased with herself. Buffybot cut in front of the line at the front door of the Bronze and tapped the bouncer on the shoulder. The badge on his shirt said My Name is Ted. “My Name is Ted, I am here to see Spike. Have you seen him?” It was very convenient when people wore badges with their names on them. She dropped My Name is Ted’s name in her Friends Folder. “Who the hell is Spike?” Ted asked. Buffybot processed this question. “Spike is a vampire, with excellent abs and manly parts. He looks very good naked.” Ted sighed. “Why don’t you go inside and look for him at the bar. I’m sure you’ll find him.” She deleted My Name is Ted from her Friends Folder. He wasn’t very friendly. Buffybot went into the Bronze and cruised by the bar area. She did not see Spike. She did see many people dancing in another part of the Bronze. “Spike likes to dance. I will look for him there.” She walked toward the dance floor, but spotted Spike sitting at one of the tables with his feet up. “Spike! Here I am! It’s time for our date! Where are the others?” Spike jumped up. “Bollocks! What are you doing here? You have to get out of here before Buffy, the Other Buffy, sees you.” Buffybot pouted. “You said ‘Will you go on a date with me?’ And I said, ‘Oh, yes! I’ll show you about good laying’ and you said ‘What is a date?’ And I said ‘A date is when everyone in your Friends Folder goes to the Bronze together in the evening.’ So here I am and here you are.” Spike grabbed her arm. “I don’t know what the bleeding hell you’re on about. Go out the back door. I’ll catch up with you later.” “But, I have just arrived and I think a date is supposed to last more than 10.08 seconds,” Buffybot said. Her lower lip quivered. “And, I think there is supposed to be kissing, and possibly groping.” Her eyes leaked again and the Composition Resistance Component of her 1/4-Watt Miniature Linear Potentiometer (±20%) malfunctioned. Spike petted her hair and stroked it into place. “Don’t cry, luv. I’ll make it up to you. Just go over by the bar for a minute and I’ll think of something.” “Okay,” she said. Spike’s reassurance didn’t make her feel much better, but she shuffled in the direction of the bar. Buffy was standing at the bar when Spikebot entered the Bronze. She was every bit as pretty as he remembered. “Hey? Can I get a coke?” She waved a couple of dollar bills at the bartender who Spikebot was supposed to ask for money. “Be right with you, lady,” the bartender said. Spikebot walked up to Buffy. “I thought I told you to wait at the table,” Buffy said. She handed her money to the bartender. Spikebot whispered in Buffy’s ear, the way he learned while watching All My Children at Warren’s bachelor pad and lair earlier that day. “I am here for our date. Will you show me how to be a good lay now?” He stuck his tongue in her ear. Before Buffy could react, a man walked up to the bar with a woman. Spikebot identified Xander and Anya. They were Buffy’s friends. “You’re a pig, Spike,” Xander said. “Give it up. Buffy is never going to show you how to be a good lay.” Spikebot looked disappointed and rubbed his chest. This was an unpleasant development. He had been looking forward to learning how to be a good lay all afternoon. “I think there is a malfunction in my 1/4-Watt Miniature Linear Potentiometer (±20%).” BZZZZZZZ. BZZZZZZZ. BZZZZZZZ. A buzz went off in Spikebot’s head. “I must ask the bartender to give me money.” He turned to the bartender who was handing Buffy her coke. His face crumpled and he growled really loud as instructed by Warren. “GRRRRR!! ARRRGGGHHH!! Give me money!” Buffy sipped her coke and speared the radioactive red cherry with her straw. “What are you doing?” Spikebot shook off his vampire face. “I am getting money from the bartender as instructed.” Buffy’s eyes were very green and her mouth made a big O when she popped the cherry in her mouth. He liked watching her mouth and the way she licked her lips with the tip of her small, pink tongue. Buffy pulled him aside. “I appreciate the thought and it was really nice of you to get the Little Dubbie snack cakes and stuff for Dawn and me, but you can’t go around robbing the Bronze, or your cousin, Wedgy, either. We’ll get by. Besides, robbing is bad.” Robbing is bad? He was learning something new every moment from Buffy. Spikebot sorted through his database of activities. When he couldn’t find an entry for robbing, he reviewed the contents of his own personality script. “I am the Big Bad,” he said. “I am Evil,” he added for good measure. Buffy rolled her eyes and waved the bartender away. “I know, Big Bad, Evil, Vampire, but you can’t go around robbing people. The gang is giving me attitude.” “What should I do?” Spikebot asked. “You’ll figure it out,” she said. Buffy headed for the Ladies’ Room, swishing her butt so Spike would have something to think about while she was gone. Buffybot was halfway to the bar when she remembered she had several uncompleted items on her To Do List. “I should do my list items at this time, since my date has gone kablooey,” she said with a snuffle. “I should do my duty and make Spike happy. Guy-iles said I should.” She turned around and went back to Spike, who was tapping his foot on the table in time to the music and twisting his head around to see where Buffy had gotten off to. Buffybot straddled Spike’s legs and sat down on his lap. “I am here to do my duty.” She leaned forward and gave Spike an enthusiastic kiss. Spike dropped his beer bottle, leaped up and spilled Buffybot on the floor. “Bloody hell, Bot! You have to get out of here before --” Xander sat down at the table and grabbed a handful of mini-pretzels. “Before Really Real Buffy finds out Dead Man Lounging here charged you up again and kicks Spike’s ass. Really hard.” “Bugger off, Harris. I don’t need your help.” Spike grabbed Buffybot by the hand and hauled her toward the back door. “Are we going to your crypt to play Naughty Nurse?” “Hells Bells!” “Xander, buy me another one of those festive Zombie drinks with the pineapple chunks and the tiny paper umbrellas. They are very tasty and excellent for quenching post-dance thirstiness.” Xander picked up Anya’s empty glass and headed to the bar. “They are tasty and excellent for making the girlfriend festive, as well.” He pulled out his wallet while he walked and ran into Spikebot who was standing alone at the bar, wearing his vampire face in case the bartender should change his mind about giving him money. “I thought you left, Bleach Head,” Xander said. He waved his fingers at the bartender. “I am here for a date with Buffy,” Spikebot said, “and becoming a good lay.” “If I hear that out of you one more time, I’m going to crack your skull open.” “That might be difficult. My skull is made of a Titanium-Molybdenum Alloy designed to withstand extreme temperatures and high pressure.” Before Xander could make a smart remark about the hardness of Spike’s head, a person wearing a Sponge Bob Square Pants mask aimed a red plastic ray gun at Xander. “Back away from Spike and I won’t have to shoot you,” Sponge Bob said. Two others, wearing Little Mermaid and Hello Kitty masks stepped up and pointed their own ray guns. Xander started laughing, spilled some of Anya’s Zombie and staggered back to the table. “Anya, you won’t believe it. Sponge Bob, Little Mermaid and Hello Kitty are protecting the Big Bad.” “Hssst! Spikebot,” Sponge Bob said. “What are you doing? You’re supposed to be robbing the bar.” Spikebot was confused. He knew he was confused. Nothing was going according to Warren’s instructions. He came into the Bronze place and Little Mermaid pointed him to the bartender. He made the GRRRRR!! ARRRGGGHHH!!, but the bartender only laughed. Then, Buffy told him robbing was bad and Wedgy was his cousin, but he didn’t think he could have a cousin since Warren hadn’t made one for him yet. Now, Sponge Bob Square Pants was talking to him. “Buffy said robbing the bar is Bad. And, Evil. Do I know you? I don’t see anyone in my Friends Folder who looks like you.” Warren flipped his mask up. “Look, Spikebot. It’s me, Warren. Don’t pay any attention to what the Slayer says. I’ve got you covered. Go ahead and get the money from the bartender.”

Chapter #13 - Spiralgyrations

============================================== DISCLAIMER: All belongs to Joss and Mutant Enemy or whoever, no copywrite infringement intended. ============================================== Excellent Banner by nmcil. Here's more -- whedonworld ============================================== A Big Tart Kiss to the kind persons who nominated this story at Spark And Burn and Spuffy Awards. Reviews are always appreciated, especially if you were laughing so hard at work that your Boss gave you the evil eye or you snorted pop up your nose. ============================================== Chapter 13 – Spiralgyrations Spike hustled Buffybot out into the alley and nearly knocked over two fools wearing Little Mermaid and Hello Kitty masks. They smelled vaguely familiar, but he didn’t have time to suss out who they were or what the two of them were doing. He had to get rid of Buffybot before Real Buffy caught him with her. Buffybot slammed Spike against the nearest wall, whipped a stake out of the back pocket of her tight skirt and touched it to Spike’s chest. “Do you want to play this game instead?” She leaped into Spike’s arms, wrapped her legs around his waist and kissed him hard. Buffy circled around the room looking for Spike. She had more plans for revenging herself on Mr. Trickster. Plans that could not be put into action in a public place. “Where is he now? I’m getting a leash for him or one of those prisoner bracelets.” She turned back to the bar and saw Spike -- no, Spikebot talking to someone wearing a Sponge Bob Square Pants mask. Which, okay, weird. “Spikebot, it’s time to go home,” Buffy said. “I must finish robbing the bartender, then you can show me the Naughty Nurse program as you promised.” Spikebot flashed his vampire face and snarled for the bartender who was making a frozen daiquiri and didn’t appear to be impressed. Buffy pulled on Spikebot’s arm and pretended her face wasn’t bright red at the mention of Naughty Nurse. “I thought I told you not to rob -- no, I told Spike – I told one of you not to rob the bartender. What’s going on here? Why are you robbing the bar, too? And,” she added in a low voice, “What do you know about Naughty Nurse?” “Warren instructed me to ask the bartender for money and to say ‘GRRRRR!’” Spikebot said. Sponge Bob squeezed himself into the crowd at the bar on the opposite side of Spikebot, propped his elbows on the bar and pretended to be looking at something across the room with his left eye. “Spikebot, hit your fist on the cash register,” he said in what passed for a quiet voice in the noisy room. Spikebot slammed his hand on the top of the machine. The cash drawer sprang open and made a beep. “Cut that out, Spikebot!” Buffy said. “That’s right,” Warren said. “Take the money out of the drawer and hand it to me.” Spikebot handed Warren a wad of cash. Buffy placed her fists on her hips and faced Sponge Bob who was backing towards the door. Sponge Bob ran out the back door, followed by Buffy, who kicked his butt and jerked him to his feet by his ear. “Just a minute, Slayer. This is not what it looks like. I can explain,” Sponge Bob said. Buffy jerked his mask off. “Warren? You’re robbing the Bronze with my Spikebot? How lame is that?” Spike came up for air, which took a little time, because Buffybot was a very good kisser and because Spike was horny after dancing with Real Buffy. When he opened his eyes, Buffy, the Other Not So Nice Buffy, was standing next to them, tapping a stake against her thigh and holding Square Pants Sponge Bob by the ear. Spike dropped the Bot and shoved her behind him. “I can explain.” Buffy socked him in the eye. “I hate you!” She dropped Warren and ran down the alley. “Wow, Spike, she hit you,” Warren said. “The Slayer hit you and you’re still standing up.” Spike felt certain the only reason he was still standing up was because Buffy’s punch had paralyzed every nerve in his body. “Bot, stay here and guard Warren until the police get here. Then, go to my crypt and no more running about town.” Spike ran after Buffy leaving Buffybot behind, standing alone in the alley and looking miserable. “This has been a very disappointing evening,” Buffybot said to Warren. “Spike and I had a date, but he ran away.” “That’s a shame, Buffybot. Well, I’ll just be going,” Warren said. He attempted to sneak off. “Spike said I should wait and give you to a police officer. Please don’t sneak away. That is annoying.” Buffybot zapped him with the internal Taser points installed in her index fingers. Warren slumped to the ground just as the Sunnydale Police Department vehicle rolled into the alley. Buffybot dusted her hands off to ground the electrical charge after tasing Warren, and straightened her leather skirt. “Off to Spike’s crypt for sexual pleasures by the barrel and no running about town.” Spikebot came out the back door of the Bronze, looking for Warren. He saw Warren being shoved into the back of the police car. Warren was wearing handcuffs and shouted something from inside the car, but Spikebot couldn’t hear him. “Spike,” Buffybot said. Spike had come back for her. She felt much better. “You’re back. Can we start our date?” Spikebot toed the pavement with his boot. “I would like to start our date. Can you teach me how to be a good lay at this time?” “Yes, I can. First, I shove you against the building, like so.” Buffybot slammed Spikebot against the side of the building. “Then, you kiss me.” Spikebot pecked her on the lips. Buffybot frowned. This was a disturbing development. This was the kind of kiss she would give to her sister, who was Dawn, not the kind of kiss she expected from Spike who was a Sex God. “Have you forgotten everything? Kiss me like this.” She kissed Spikebot passionately, then broke off the kiss. “You try it.” Spikebot grabbed her arms, “First, I push you against the wall,” BAM! “Then, I kiss you very hard.” He shoved Buffybot against the wall and kissed her the way she’d shown him. He broke the kiss. “How was that?” Buffybot’s head spun. She saw little gold and blue electric sparks in front of her Opto-isolators and felt tingly all over her neoprene skin-like covering. “That was excellent, although I’m not sure if I’m experiencing high voltage overload from your excellent kissing, or from bumping my head against the brick wall. Maybe we should try it again without the slamming against the wall.” Spikebot kissed her again, softly, but every bit as passionately, this time. He also put his tongue in Buffy’s mouth the way he saw Rocky do with her mate on the cave people movie called One Million B.C. Warren and Jonathan and Whatshisname who was also known as Penis Breath, liked to watch. “Lions and Tigers and Bears!” Buffybot said. “That was a bloody brilliant kiss. I think we can go on to the next part.” Spikebot blushed, or at least his Alabaster White Neoprene Skin-Like Covering with the Enhanced Ultraviolet Ray Protective Coating No. 35 turned slightly pink. “What is the next part?” “Catch me!” Buffybot jumped into his arms and wrapped her legs around his waist. “Put your hands on my firm behind. No, hike up my skirt first. That’s correct. Now, I nibble on your neck and you say ‘You know I can’t bite you’ and I say ‘I think you can. I think you can if I let you, and I want to let you. I want you to bite me and devour me until there's no more.’” Spikebot hiked up her skirt and said “You know I can’t bite you.” Buffybot skipped ahead to the next line of the program and unzipped his pants. “I think you can. I think you can if I let you, and I want to let you. I want you to bite me and devour me until there's no more.” Spikebot ran his hands up her skirt and cupped her firm behind, which was soft and tender as well as being firm. “Why did I just say I know I can’t bite you? I’m pretty sure I could bite you if you think you’d like me to.” “I don’t know,” she said. “It’s Line 98 of the program, but you can bite my neck if you’d like to and I will add an extra 30 second timing loop to the program.” Spikebot vamped out and lowered his fangs into Buffybot’s neck. He punctured two holes in her neoprene skin-like covering and a tiny jet of oil spurted into his mouth. “Oh! That felt very exciting, but I think I’m leaking oil!” Spikebot licked the spot where he bit her neck and pressed the punctures closed with his fingers. “There, you are no longer leaking.” “I am flustered. Your biting made me get flustered and I forgot what comes next. Oh! I remember. We were on Program Line 137. You put your hand between my lower extremities and put your fingers in my Tight Little Cunny, oh yes, like that, only deeper. Yes! And then, I pull down your zipper, except I pulled it down earlier because I got confused. So, I can just pull out your Manly Part.” Just as Buffybot grasped Spikebot’s 12VDC Continuous Tubular Pull Solenoid and pulled it out of his tight jeans and was about to connect his solenoid to her Cermet Potentiometer, which Spike called her Tight Little Cunny, her Love Peach and her Honey Quim, among other things, a loud buzz sounded in Spikebot’s brain. It reverberated with Buffybot’s audio receivers and made her ears hurt. BZZZZZZZ. BZZZZZZZ. BZZZZZZZ. When the buzzing stopped, she continued making the connection and had just settled her Potentiometer onto Spike’s Tubular Solenoid, which he called his Big Cock, when Spike’s brain buzzed again. BZZZZZZZ. BZZZZZZZ. BZZZZZZZ. Spikebot made several erratic wheezing noises with his mouth and moved his Big Cock inside Buffy’s Tight Little Cunny and he was pretty sure he was going to short circuit his brain any second when the Single Conversion Hitec RCD Crystal Receiver in his front memory banks buzzed again. BZZZZZZZ. “Spikebot, buddy? Can you hear me?” “Who was that?” Buffybot said. She dug her fingers into Spike’s shoulders and rocked herself up and down on Spike’s Big Cock which caused her Tight Little Cunny to overheat. It felt – Wow! “It is Warren. He talks in my head sometimes. Can I kiss you again? I liked that part.” Buffybot nodded and they locked lips and touched each other’s tongues. Warren buzzed again. “Spikebot, I’m in the City Jail. Look it up on Google and get over here pronto.” “But, I am getting a good lay,” Spikebot said. “I think I am going to short circuit.” “I’ll short circuit you myself if you don’t get over here and break me out.” With great reluctance, Spikebot lifted Buffybot off his Tubular Pull Solenoid, which he saw in his program dictionary could also be referred to as his Manly Part or his Big Cock, and set her down on the pavement. He smoothed down her skirt which had rucked up very high on her pretty legs while he was rubbing his Manly Part in her Tight Little Cunny. “I am sorry, but I must terminate our date. I have to break Warren out of jail. What is jail?” Buffybot massaged her forehead with her fingertips. Her forehead was wrinkled up from a condition with which she was not familiar, but she believed to be similar to a Boatload of Sexual Tension. “Jail is where bad people go. Warren is bad because he robbed the bartender in the Bronze, so he is in jail. He should stay there. Then, we could finish our date.” “Robbing is bad. I robbed money from Wedgy Chalk the clerk at the Thank Heaven Convenience Food Mart and I robbed my leather coat from Contagious Clothing the One Stop Spot to Shop for Goth and also three six-packages of beer bottles from the Kwik LiQ All You Can Drink.” “That was Evil, especially robbing money from Wedgy Chalk the clerk at the Thank Heaven Convenience Food Mart who is your very own cousin twice removed.” “Removed from what?” “You are Evil and I will have to kill you,” Buffybot said. This was a very disturbing turn of events. She much preferred Spike to remain in his Good Lay Program so he could rub his solenoid inside her potentiometer. “I would rather not be killed. I would rather you touched my Big Cock again with your Tight Little Cunny. That was much better than robbing, except for the Grrr Argh part. Do you think I could Grrr Argh while we are touching?” “I could re-position the Phase Inductance Controlled Rectifier in your Anterior Memory Banks to a 1.8° step angle, and you would receive an electrical short in your core memory PROM to let you know when you are doing something Evil. Then, I wouldn’t have to kill you.” Spikebot sighed. “I like your modification plan much better. Would it be okay if I kissed you again?” “Yes, I think it would.” Spikebot leaned in close and touched his lips to Buffybot’s. He grasped her hips with his hands. He hoped this was a good thing to do and within acceptable parameters of the Good Lay Program. BZZZZZZZ. “GET OVER HERE!!!!” Spikebot jerked his head up, zipped up his pants and ran down the street. Buffybot leaned against the building. “Darn his sinister attraction.”

Chapter #14 - Frustration

Last week on WWHH? Buffybot's date didn't go so well and neither did Spikebot's or Buffy's or Spike's. Warren and his geek sidekicks tried to rob the Bronze and that didn't go so well either although Buffybot got to test out her taser finger thingies. Date night continues ... ============================================= Thanks to everyone who read and reviewed and everyone who read and lurked. Characters belong to Joss and Mutant Enemy but Joss said Spike could come over for a visit whenever Scarlet gets through with him. That could be a while. ============================================= Chapter 14 – Frustration Spike caught up with Buffy outside Restfield Cemetery, which was convenient for dragging himself home if she decided to beat the crap out of him. He tagged her shoulder. “Buffy, stop! We have to talk.” Buffy spun around with her stake out and ready. “Okay, let’s talk. I am Chock Full of Talk. What shall we talk about? Oh! I know! Let’s talk about how you tricked me into having sex with you. How’s that for a subject? Or, we could talk about you robbing Wedgy or how you were doing the Skankbot in the alley where all my friends could see you or how you’ve been hiding my Spikebot.” It seemed best to avoid the tricking subject and the Buffybot altogether. He’d never snaffled so much as a pack of fags from Wedgy, but he didn’t want to admit that, so he proceeded to a subject on which he felt he might be able to say something remotely resembling the truth. “There is no Spikebot. I told Warren not to make one.” “He made one anyway. And, don’t dodge. You had sex with me and I didn’t even know it was you. And, then you turned on the Buffybot again and you were having sex with her, too.” “I’m going to kill that wanker. And, yeah, I had sex with you. And, you liked it.” “Did not. I didn’t like it a bit.” Buffy whirled around so she wouldn’t have to look at Spike while she told that lie. “Spikebot, do it again. Do that thing again with your tongue,” he said in his Whiny Buffy Voice. God, she hated when he made the Whiny Buffy Voice. She so didn’t sound like that. “Shut up. Shut up right now. I hate you.” “Do not and it wasn’t me that got out the handcuffs.” “They just happened to be lying around. From before. Naturally, I had to use the handcuffs to make the Spikebot behave.” “Keep me chained up while you had your wicked Slayer way with me, you mean. Wait, I get it. It was okay to have sex with a robot, but it wasn’t okay to have sex with me.” “I never would have had sex with the robot if you hadn’t pretended to be him and tricked me and got me all excited and stuff.” That almost made sense. She still had her back to Spike, because she so wasn’t going to look at him and get tricked again. Spike leaned over her and kissed her neck. “Like this? Is this how I tricked you?” “Cut it out,” she said. She didn’t move away. Spike slid his hand up her thigh and scooted her skirt up her leg. “Or, was it more like this?” ~ ~ ~ Xander and Anya stood at the Restfield Cemetery’s front gate and argued. Sometimes, Xander enjoyed arguing with Anya. Her relentless and strange logic could be amusing. Tonight was not one of these occasions. “It’ll only take a minute. I want to make sure the Albino Idiot went back to his crypt without Buffy or the Buffybot.” He didn’t gve a hoot if Spike banged the Buffybot upside down, right side up or sideways, and wouldn’t mind a go with her himself if Anya wasn’t around, but sex with bots was a sore point with the womenfolk. He did care if Spike had sex with Buffy because that was so wrong and because he didn’t think Spike should receive sexual favors he himself had never been able to get. Anya stomped her foot. “Who cares where Spike went? Who cares who he took with him? I want to go home. We didn’t have sex last night because you said you were too tired and now you want to chase all over the cemetery looking for Buffy and you’re going to be too tired again. And, I’ll end up getting fat when I’m forced to eat a whole bag of Mint Milanos from sexual frustration.” Xander wiped his face. “Buffy’s vulnerable and I can’t let Spike take advantage of her. I’ll run over to Spike’s crypt and I’ll be in and out in a jiffy.” Anya gave in after remarking about the in-and-out-jiffyness of her own sex life and followed Xander along the dark path towards Spike’s crypt. “If you ask me,” she said, “Buffy could use a good poke in the pants. She’s been mighty cranky since Riley left. And, Spike’s just the guy to handle her.” “Maybe she could – no, no poking of the pants for Buffy. And, not Spike. Not ever.” “You’re too late on the not ever part. She told me yesterday the two of them were going to play Naughty Nurse.” Xander skidded to a stop. “Okay, I’m getting the visual and I’m not liking it. Did she say anything about the rubber glove? No! Don’t answer that.” He saw something moving in the bushes ahead of them. “Buffy!” ~ ~ ~ Spikebot jogged two blocks east, one block north, two blocks west and arrived at the Sunnydale Police District Dispatch Center and Lockup. He stopped in front of the building. “I am at the jail,” he said. He hoped Warren would hear him and tell him what to do, but he didn’t know if he could talk inside Warren’s head the way Warren could talk inside his head. Warren didn’t answer, but the BZZZZZZZ, BZZZZZZZ, BZZZZZZZ continued inside Spikebot’s head. Spikebot reduced the system volume so the buzzing could not be heard outside his skull, but he could hear the buzzing himself perfectly well. A police car pulled up in front of the station and the officers got out of the car and opened the back door. They pulled a man who wasn’t Warren out of the back seat. His hands were restrained behind his back with stainless steel handcuffs, the way Warren’s had been. One of the officers grabbed the man by his arm and pulled him up the steps and into the station. “Warren must be inside,” Spikebot said. He followed the officers into the station and approached the front desk. Another officer – Officer Joe Walsy – sat at the desk. His name was on a brass plate on top of the desk. He was talking on the telephone. “Yeah, lady. That happens to me all the time. Un huh. Un huh. Have you tried putting the foil with the shiny side out? You do that. We serve and protect.” Officer Joe Walsy hung up the phone. “What can I do for you, sir?” “I am looking for Warren, Officer Joe Walsy. He is in jail.” BZZZZZZZ. Officer Joe tapped a few letters on the keyboard to his computer. “Does Warren have a last name?” Spike considered this question. Jonathan Short Round had addressed Warren as Pizza-face this morning. Maybe that was Warren’s last name? “Pizza-face.” The officer arranged his facial features to show that he was displeased, although Spikebot didn’t think he had done anything bad. “No Pizza-faces in the holding pen.” “Oh,” Spikebot said. “This is disappointing. Warren buzzed me in my head and told me to come to the jail right away.” His brain buzzed again three more times. BZZZZZZZ, BZZZZZZZ , BZZZZZZZ . “It is difficult to concentrate when my brain is buzzing all the time.” “Really. Think of that.” The officer reached into one of his desk drawers and pulled out a large roll of aluminum foil. He tore off a long strip. “Here buddy, wrap this around your head a couple of times. Then, Warren won’t be able to buzz your brain.” Spikebot took the sheet of aluminum foil and wrapped it around his Titanium-Molybdenum Alloy brain casing. The buzzing stopped. “Have I placed it correctly?” “Perfect. Have a nice evening, sir.” “Thank you. I will go back to my date with Buffy. She is teaching me to be a good lay.” The officer pulled off another long piece of foil. “Here you go. One for your girl.” Spikebot took the foil and smiled. He held the foil carefully so it wouldn’t wrinkle. “Thank you, Officer Joe Walsy. I’m certain Buffy will like wrapping her head in foil, too. Do you think she will agree to be my girlfriend?” “I bet she will,” Officer Joe said. “We serve and protect.” After Spikebot left the building, Officer Joe collected $7.34 from the station’s Weekly Weirdest Citizen pool. ~~~ Their argument ended halfway to Spike’s crypt, next to the Lovelace crypt with its flowery stone hearts and carved angels, which had been Buffy’s second choice for photographs two years ago, when they were engaged. The site featured an excellent patch of soft turf. Buffy’s tongue was in Spike’s mouth and her hand was unhooking his belt buckle when she heard the voice in the distance. “What was that?” “Buffy!” A faint male voice echoed across the cemetery. Spike rolled on top of her and pushed her legs apart. “Who gives a damn? Take off your knickers.” His fingers fastened on the lace waistband and tugged. Buffy resumed sucking Spike’s tongue and helped him push off her thong in a manner that might be described as frantic. “Buffy!” The voice came closer. “Ohmigod! It’s Xander. Let me up!” Buffy shoved Spike off and scrambled to her feet. She tugged her skirt back into place and picked up her stake from the ground where she’d dropped it. Spike lay on the ground looking up at the stars as he waited for his frustration to subside. He zipped up his pants and fastened his belt buckle when he saw Xander and Anya approaching and pocketed Buffy’s panties. “Buffy! Spike! What’s going on here?” Xander said between huffs. “Don’t be stupid, Xander,” Anya said. “Buffy and Spike were having sex. What else would they be doing, lying on the ground in a cemetery at the middle of the night?” “No!” Buffy said. “No sex! No Spike sex! And, this isn’t Spike.” She kicked him in the ribs. “This is the Spikebot and we were practicing fighting. See?” She waved her stake. “Oh, right!” Spike said, picking up Buffy’s cue. “I’m Buffy’s robot! I fight evil!” He jumped to his feet and danced around with his fists up. “Give it to me good, Slayer!” Xander peered at Spike, but couldn’t tell if he was Spike or the Spikebot in the dark. “That’s a relief. Cause if you were the real Spike and you were boning Buffy, I’d stake you myself.” Buffy remembered she was mad at Spike for many reasons and recalled she didn’t want Xander and Blabbermouth Anya to suspect she was having sex with Spike, so she renewed her plan to exact cruel and unusual revenge on him, in spite of a near meltdown from sexual frustration, and popped Spike in each of his eyes. “There you go, Spikebot. Don’t bother to get up.” Buffy left the cemetery with Xander and Anya and stopped off on the way home at the Thank Heaven Convenience Food Mart to pick up two packages of fresh batteries.

Chapter #15 - Essential Inspirational Concepts

============================================ Last episode was Date Night and my didn't that go well. Everybody had to go home alone, except Anya and Xander, but Xander was tired again. ============================================ Nominated for best humor at Spark and Burn Awards and Best Fluffy Spuffy and Best Romance at Spuffy Awards. Excellent banner by nmcil. See more banners and Spuffy stuffy at her website: http://www.whedonworld.com/ ============================================ Disclaimer: The characters, the plot, the setting, the residuals - all belong to Joss and no copyright infringement is intended. ============================================ Chapter 15 - Essential Inspirational Concepts The next morning, Spike sprawled on his chair, clicked on the television and clamped his hand over one of his newest Buffy-induced black eyes. “Be a pet and run out to the Thank Heaven and fetch some ice. There’s a good bot.” Buffybot was Cleaning Up Spike’s Crypt since Spike said he wasn’t in the mood for Having Sex with Spike. This was disappointing considering the Boatload of Sexual Tension she developed the previous evening. She twirled her feather duster. “I will put Fetching Ice on my To Do List. I have three other things to do first: Clean up Spike’s Crypt, Have Sex with Spike and Protect Spike. Spike groaned. “Don’t be so fagging literal. Go get the ice first. Tell Wedgy it’s for me and I’ll pay up tomorrow.” Buffybot dropped the feather duster on the floor and marched to the door. “I will Fetch Ice right away. When I come back, we can play Naughty Nurse.” “Not bloody likely,” Spike said as the door swung shut. Buffybot walked four blocks east, two blocks north and kitty-corner across the intersection of Center Street and Dante Boulevard. She caused a minor motor vehicle collision when she crossed the intersection. She walked into the Thank Heaven Convenience Food Mart and identified Wedgy from the new entry she’d created in her Friends Folder. Wedgy Chalk Spike’s second cousin once removed Regurgitating frovolax demon Good for a ten spot in an emergency Wedgy drank down his Pepto-Bismol smoothie. “How are the Hot Mama Slayer doing on this fine Sunnydale morning? I am wanting to see you about Spike. What is being wrong with him?” “Spike has contusions of his bilateral optic orbs, with bruising, discoloration, edema and pain in the surrounding tissues. Also, he was not in the mood for Having Sex with Spike. I need ice.” Buffybot walked up the chips aisle, checked the ice cream freezer, cruised the cookie and snack cakes aisle. She examined the latest copy of Starz Magazine Where the Stars Come Out to Play and admired the color, glossy photograph of David Boreanz on the cover. “He’s Cute!” She located the ice bags next to the front door by the cash register. “I am not wondering he is having two black eyes and I am thinking he is deserving of them very much,” Wedgy said. “Are you being aware Spike was robbing the store two nights ago from me, Wedgy Chalk, his very own second cousin once removed?” This was old news. Spike informed her about the robbing last night. Unless this was a different time Spike was robbing the store than the time he told her about, which would be Double Bad. “Robbing the store is Very Bad! And, it’s Wrong!” “Yes, and I am thinking you should be telling him so. Are you needing this ice very badly for my cousin?” “Yes. Once I bring back the ice, Spike wants to play Naughty Nurse like Bloody Hell. He said he would pay you tomorrow.” “Aiey! Aiey! Aiey! My cousin is of the craziness! One day he robs me and the next day he says he will pay me!” Gug-Glurp. Buffybot juggled the ice back and forth. “The ice is making my flexible digital units cold, Wedgy Second Cousin of Spike.” Wedgy handed Buffybot a plastic bag for the ice. “Here, for the Slayer there is no charge for ice. Even if she is getting it for Spike, the no good cousin of Wedgy Chalk.” Buuwookkhhh. Buuwookkhhh. Buuwookkhhh. Buffybot thanked Wedgie Second Cousin of Spike and sailed out the door with her bag of ice and her copy of Starz Magazine and collided with Spikebot. Warren hung his arms over the bars of his cell while angling his body to keep an eye on his 280-pound cellmate. Things were not going well. He’d been in jail for over nine hours and Spikebot still hadn’t shown up to break him out. “Hey, Warden! When do I get my phone call?” “Shut up, Sponge Bob,” the guard said. “Your lawyer, Squidward won’t be in court until ten.” “Very funny, fatso.” The guard ignored him and chewed on his Doublemeat burger. “I guess we’ll have to do this the hard way.” Warren cut another look at his cellmate who was lying on the bottom bunk staring at the ceiling while performing his three thousandth bicep curl. Warren cupped his hand over his left eye and popped out his artificial eyeball. Once he had the eyeball in his hand, he unscrewed the iris to expose a miniature signaling device. Spikebot smiled. He was very pleased to see his new Friend Buffy, who was wearing a very short pink leather skirt that showed her legs. They were very good legs although not similar to the legs of Rocky Welsh in One Million B.C. who Warren and his friends, Jonathan/Short Round/Buttwipe and Whatshisname/Penis Breath/Snotnose, admired. He handed her the sheet of aluminum foil he had received from Officer Joe Walsy. “You can wrap this around your head and then you won’t hear the voices anymore.” Buffybot wrapped the foil around her head which turned out to be very difficult because she was holding the bag of ice and her magazine. “Spike?” Buffybot said. “What happened to your black eyes? Have you healed already? I have the ice, but I left my Naughty Nurse costume at My House.” “My eyes are blue,” Spikebot said. He took the foil and folded it neatly over her ears and patted it in place. “You look very pretty. Can we have more of our date?” Buffybot’s brain whirred. “I thought we had our date, but we can have another one, if you like.” She dropped the bag of ice and the magazine on the sidewalk. “I would like to practice being a good lay,” Spikebot said. He placed one Size 12 Doc Marten boot on David Boreanz’s face and left a big dusty tread on the photograph. “Okay,” Buffybot said. She put her arms around Spikebot’s neck and plastered her body against his. “You start like this. Then, you put your hands on my butt.” Spikebot clapped his hands on Buffybot’s behind. “I remember this part. Like this?” “Yes, except you squeeze a little.” Spikebot squeezed. “I like squeezing your butt.” Buffy put her hands on both sides of Spikebot’s head and pulled his face close for a kiss. As their lips touched, she knocked the foil wrapping off his head. BZZZZZZZ! Strobe lights flashed out of Spikebot’s eyes and reverb filled his Hitec RCD Single Conversion Auditory Crystal Receivers. EEEEEEE! EEEEEEE! “Spikebot, this is Warren. I’m in the Sunnydale City Jail. Go get my mother’s car and drive to the jail. Park the car in the alley. Come in the back door. Go to the second floor where the cells are. Once you get here, I’ll tell you what to do. Oh, and bring my asthma inhaler.” Spikebot sighed and dropped Buffybot to the pavement. “If we have another date, can you be my girlfriend, like Desperately Seeking Madonna?” “Yes, I will be your girlfriend, but you’re going to have to get the buzz in your head fixed.” Buffy trudged into work. She wore the Buffy Summers-Assistant Manager badge she found on the front hall table along with a roll of cash, a nickel and a penny. She wondered where the badge and the money came from, but Dawn woke up early for once and ran out of the house before Buffy got up, so Buffy wasn’t able to wheedle any explanations out of her. She was in a funk. A Hellgod was after her sister. Xander and Anya, and possibly Willow and Tara, suspected her of having sex with Spike and/or with the Spikebot. Dawn knew she had sex with Spike. Her Spikebot was missing. Buffybot was running around town and Spike was probably having sex with the tart-bot again. Her vibrator burned out last night and all she could think about was Spike. Spike Hands, Spike Lips, Spike – other Spike parts. The gang was bound to compare notes and come to conclusions, then the gang was bound to fill Giles in with all the ugly details before sunset. Things were bad. It must have been Spike all along. Somehow, he’d figured out a way to run around in broad daylight without getting crispied. Spike at Warren’s place, Spike sparring with her at the Magic Box (which, fun), Spike taking her to the park to swing (which, okay, also fun), Spike with the handcuffs (mmm, more than fun), Spike, Spike and more Spike. And, Dummy Buffy falling for the ruse and enjoying every minute of it. As soon as Buffy walked into the Doublemeat Palace, Sarah approached her. “Buffy, can I talk to you in my office?” Buffy followed, turning her cow hat in her hands. She wanted to know how she got promoted from Buffy Summers – DoubleMeat Associate and Grease Monkey to Buffy Summers - Assistant Manager, but she was afraid to ask. “You remember how we talked yesterday about Dedication, Productivity, Motivation and Cooperation? The essential inspirational concepts of working at the Doublemeat?” Had she lost her mind? Yesterday was her day off. She hadn’t been here at all and she was pretty sure she would remember being miserable for an eight-hour stretch. “Sure,” she answered with caution. “Buffy, your cash drawer was $453.06 short yesterday.” Which was the amount of money in the wad in her jacket pocket, less the price of one anchovy, pineapple and tofu pizza. She’d found six cents in change on the table this morning, too. “It was?” “Yes. I think one of the Doublemeat staff is taking money from your cash register. Now you’re on the Doublemeat management team, you need to watch out for team members who don’t appreciate DoubleMeat Motivation Concepts.” “Oh.” This sounded remarkably similar to being a fink of the rattish variety. “I knew you’d understand. Now, get out there and serve DoubleMeats with pride.” Sarah smiled and punched her fist in the air. Buffy, Assistant Manager and Company Snitch, headed to her station by the french fry machine. She’d have to arrange to ‘find’ the money in the bottom of her cash drawer today so no one would get in trouble. “Oh, Buffy,” Sarah said. “I saw your boyfriend yesterday. He’s cute in a bad boy kind of way.” Spike. Or, the Spikebot. Either way, news of the bad. News which might explain $453 appearing on her front hall table, but not the six cents. “He’s not my boyfriend.” Sarah nodded. “My mistake.” Spikebot left Buffybot standing on the corner in front of the Thank Heaven Convenient Food Mart and returned to the Sunnydale Police District Dispatch Center and Lockup. He didn’t know where Warren’s mother’s car was, so he skipped over that item as well as Drive to the Jail and Park the Car in the Alley on his To Do List. He didn’t know where the back door of the jail was, or the current location of Warren’s asthma inhaler, so he jogged six blocks east, four blocks north, passed the Bronze, continued six blocks west and arrived at the front door of the Sunnydale Police District Dispatch Center and Lockup. This time he went straight inside the building and walked up to the desk. Officer Joe Walsy was not at the desk, but Officer Steve Bentley’s name plate was on top of the desk and he was talking on the phone. “I don’t think so, sir. Vampires only come out at night. Un-huh. Un-huh. Un-huh. I don’t think you can be a vampire and a werewolf at the same time. Un-huh. Your cousin? Un huh. Have you tried putting the foil with the shiny side out? You do that. We serve and protect.” Officer Steve Bentley hung up the phone. “What can I do for you, sir?” BZZZZZZZ! EEEEEEE! EEEEEEE! Spikebot clapped his hands over his ears, which in no way affected the sounds blasting out of his Hitec RCD Single Conversion Auditory Crystal Receivers. “I lost my aluminum foil headgear given to me by Officer Joe Walsy and Warren is making my head buzz and eee again.” “Hold your head down,” the officer said. He retrieved a small Phillip’s head screwdriver from the desk drawer. He loosened two screws behind each of Spikebot’s ears and lifted off the top of his Titanium-Molybdenum Alloy brain case. He tapped a couple of thin wires. EEEEEEE! >/I> “Is that the sound?” “It is the same tone and frequency, but the sound is louder when Warren triggers the playback sequence from his remote control eyeball device,” Spikebot said. Officer Bob clipped the two wires with his desk scissors and replaced the top of Spikebot’s skull. “How’s that?” Spikebot lifted his head. The buzzing and eeeeing had stopped. He felt much better. “That is an excellent improvement. Thank you very much, Officer Steve Bentley.” “My pleasure. Was there anything else I could help you with today?” “I am here to break Warren out of jail. Where can I find him and what do I have to break?” Officer Steve raised his eyebrow. “What’s Warren’s last name?” “It is Mears. I thought it was Pizza-Face but Jonathan/Short Round/Buttwipe informed me that Pizza-Face was his gang name. They are in a gang called the Trio.” The officer typed in Warren’s name on his keyboard. He entered Warren’s gang name on the computer and added Jonathan/Short Round/Buttwipe as a known associate. “Do you have any other information about Warren?” “Whatshisname/Penis Breath says he is a pansy.” Officer Steve entered the additional information on Warren’s profile. “He’s in a holding cell. Armed robbery, first offense. The judge will see him this morning and probably let him out on bail. I don’t think you need to break him out. Besides, he’s a bit of a desperate character. You should probably stay away from him.” “Buffy said he should stay in jail. She is my girlfriend.” “You should listen to your girlfriend. Why don’t you go see her, and leave Warren to us? We’ll take good care of him.” “I will attempt to find her. Thank you.” “We serve and protect.” After Spikebot left the building, Officer Bob, collected $119.85 from the station’s Weekly Weirdest Citizen pool at ten to one odds. Spike pressed a bottle of cold beer to one of his Latest Compliments of Real Buffy Black Eyes while he waited for Buffybot to show up with some ice. He crumbled some of Clem’s nacho chips into his mug of blood and drank it down. He moaned. He sulked. He hashed over in his brain a hundred times what he’d done to make Buffy mad. He only wanted to be with her, touch her golden hair, kiss her, shag her upside down and inside out and love her. Instead, he’d brassed her off and there was no telling when or if she’d ever forgive him. He did not brood. He was in a funk. A Hellgod was after his girl’s sister. Buffy was mad at him for tricking her into sex. Xander and Anya, and Willow and Tara, too, for all he knew, suspected him of having sex with Buffy and/or the Buffybot and Xander would stake him as soon as he found out for certain. Dawn knew he had sex with Buffy and would blab to Xander and staking would follow. Buffybot went out for a bag of ice and hadn’t been seen since. Warren made a Spikebot and Buffy was probably shagging the gigolo-bot in order to piss him off. Somebody was bound to fill Giles in with all the ugly details before sunset and a staking of Spike would soon follow. Things were bad. Someone tapped on his crypt door. “Who in the bleeding shades of hell are you? Go away!” He got up and picked up the nine-inch athame pearl dagger he’d pinched from the Slayer’s weapon chest before she’d locked him out over the Chaining Up Incident. He stepped behind the door as it creaked open. Dr. Ben walked through the door. “Hey, Spike? Are you here?” Here was something to improve his mood. Burt and Jurt, his companions in the weekly kitten poker game at the Fish Tank, had let drop that Dr. Kildare was not entirely human, which meant Spike could beat his own bad mood right out of the good doctor’s hide. Spike jumped Ben, grabbed him around the throat and pressed the knife against his jugular vein. The chip fired and Spike fell back howling and holding his head. “Bloody Hell! You’re human.” Ben rubbed his throat and strolled around the room. “Yeah. Sometimes, I guess.” Ben pulled a wooden stake out of his baggy pants pocket. “I really hate to do this to you, pal, but you’ve got some information about the Key and I can’t let my sister find out.” “Your sister? What are you yapping about? Oh! Uh, what Key? Don’t know anything about any Key.” “I think you do. Glory the Hellgod – she’s my sister. I had a chat with Jinx, my sister’s flunky. He says you know all about the magical Key – who it is, where it is. So far, you didn’t tell Glory, but she’ll be coming back for you and I doubt you can hold out long, so here goes.” He raised the stake and walked towards Spike. Spike darted away. “Could you hold still?” Spike ran around the crypt, dodging the lethal stake. He snatched up his can of suntan spray and sprayed himself while he was running. He bolted for the door, but was met by the same band of demons who’d kidnapped him before. “Thank you for tracking him down, Brother Ben.” A little demon with nasty brown and white scabby skin and skanky hair came into the crypt. He was wearing a brown dress and holding up a big cross and a little bottle of holy water. “I didn’t think he’d be stupid enough to return here. I should have listened to Doc.” Spike recognized the demon. He backed up and held out his hands. “Let’s not do anything rash.”

Chapter #16 - Crinkly Paper, Chocolate Glazed and an Offer Too Good to Refuse

DISCLAIMER: The characters and Sunnydale and the whole Lollapalooza belong to Joss and we're just borrowing for a little while. No copyright infringement intended. ============================================= Last week on Who Whatting How with Huh? Buffybot went shopping and got a fab magazine with David Boreanz's picture right on the front. *** Buffy went to work. *** Spikebot tried to continue his date, but ended up at the police station. *** Spike had a visit from Brother Ben which didn't go well. ============================================= Reviews are always welcome! ============================================= Chapter 16 – Crinkly Paper, Chocolate Glazed and an Offer Too Good to Refuse Buffybot hurried over to Spike’s crypt carrying the bag of melted ice and several new bags of blood from Sunnydale Memorial Hospital, which Spike said he needed to heal up his black eyes, and, a new nurse’s outfit to replace the one that got torn up when she wasn’t watching it and a rubber glove which she also acquired from the hospital. She looked forward to resuming her date with Spike and teaching him about being a good lay as soon as he got Warren out of jail. When she arrived, three ugly and scabby men in the brown dresses were dragging Spike out of his crypt. They were hitting Spike! “I must save Spike!” She dropped the ice, the bags of blood, the nurse’s outfit and the rubber glove, Size 6, and ran very fast, which wasn’t easy to do in black high heels. She turned on the video recorder in her left iris so Spike could watch her fight later. Spike liked to watch her fight. She kicked one of the ugly and scabby men in the face with her pointy shoe. “Let go of Spike!” Dr. Ben Mannpflegen came out of Spike’s crypt. He slugged one of the ugly men, then the ugly man hit him back very hard. All of a sudden, Dr. Ben Mannpflegen’s face and hair and body performed a Molecular Level Cell Redistribution and Reorganization Sequence. Dr. Ben was gone and a woman with curly, blonde hair appeared in his place. Buffybot was too busy fighting Scabby Ugly Man 1 and Scabby Ugly Man 2 to examine the woman with both of her optically coupled isolators, so she recorded what was happening. “Oh, goody,” the woman said. She clapped her hands. “My vampire. Grab him, Jinx. I’ve got a few more questions for Lady Clairol.” Buffybot smacked Jinx very hard. He somersaulted over backwards and rolled into a ditch. Buffybot kicked him in the rear for good measure. “Stay away from Spike. He’s mine.” “Your Cordial Splendiferousness?” Jinx said. “I could use a small amount of assistance subduing this Vampire Slayer Creature so I may do your bidding.” Glory sighed. “I have to do everything around here.” She slugged Buffybot’s face. Buffybot’s head spun around backwards so she couldn’t see where she was walking and her foil headband fell off. She tried to turn her head, but her neck was stuck and sparks were showering out from her Holding Torque Spring Rod. “Where did everyone go? My 1/4-Watt Miniature Linear Potentiometer is damaged. Or, possibly my H11L1, 2, 3, 4 Series Optically Coupled Isolators consisting of a Gallium Arsenide Infrared Emitting Diodes and a Microprocessor Compatible Schmitt Trigger Output is damaged. I must find Willow.” Buffybot stumbled out of the cemetery. “Hey,” Glory said. “Did anybody else know the Slayer’s a robot?” Buffybot reached the front gate of the cemetery, tripped over an Evil Root and landed face up, feet down, on the sidewalk. Her computer system shorted out and terminated. Spikebot held the crinkly paper with the spray of daffodils in his hand with great care so they wouldn’t get crushed. “These yellow herbaceous materials reminded me of you because they are bright and happy and resemble the solar star that the Earth circles on a diurnal basis,” he said by way of practice. He wanted to make a good impression on Buffy, his girlfriend. He walked into the front gate of the Fairview Cemetery where he promised to meet Buffy and was startled to see her lying on the sidewalk with her Optically Coupled Isolators rolled back in her Titanium-Molybdenum Alloy Brain Case. He stepped closer. Her head was on backwards. This was alarming. He didn’t think Buffy’s head was supposed to turn around like this. What if Buffy was hurt? What should he do? He rubbed the left side of his chest which was reacting strangely and giving him sharp, tiny shocks, at the unverified, but distressing data that Buffy might be injured. He sorted through his instructional folders, but found no useful information. He selected a USB cable from the storage compartment in his Left Bicep Construction and connected himself to Buffy. After several minutes searching Buffy’s data dictionary, he detected a program instructing Buffy to return to Willow at the Magic Box in case of damage. He tucked the flowers into his coat, picked up Buffy and ran as fast as he could to the Magic Box. He kicked open the door and propped her against the counter as gently as he could. Willow, Xander and Giles were assembled in the shop, examining objects smelling of eukaryotic, heterotrophic organisms and consuming round pieces of dough dipped in grease and sugar. Willow looked up from a thick, moldy book Giles shoved in front of her three hours before. “Spike? Or Spikebot?” “Willow! I am Spike! Buffy is injured!” Spikebot said. BZZZZZZZ! EEEEEEE! Spikebot’s head buzzed and his Redundant Auditory Backup Crystal Receivers shrieked. He put his hands on either side of his head and shook his brain casing to stop the noise, but his efforts were ineffectual. He ran out of the shop. ~ ~ ~ Still munching on a chocolate mocha marshmallow glazed with orange rind and sour ball sprinkles, Willow touched Buffybot’s reset button in her bellybutton to start her reboot her hard drive. After a minute, Buffybot completed her Wake Up Sequence and opened her eyes. “I observe you and the others are eating round pieces of dough dipped in grease and sugar,” Buffybot said. “I will make a note to myself to bring some Doublemeat pies the next time I come to the shop. The pies are also full of sugar and dipped in grease.” “Doublemeat pies. Can’t wait. What are you doing running around? I thought you were in Snooze mode?” “Willow! Fix me! Hurry! Glory captured Spike again! We must save Spike!” Buffy came into the shop. “Has anybody seen Spike or the Spikebot? I’ve got some questions to ask him -- them. And, who recharged Miss Bestest Sex Toy a Vampire Ever Had? She’s supposed to be in Mothballage.” “Spikebot just ran out, I think. Or, maybe it was Spike?” Willow said. “Isn’t that my new leather skirt?” Buffy said. Buffybot flopped herself face down on the reading table with her butt up in the air and sent the stacks of books flumping to the floor. “Hurry, Willow! Spike is in danger!” Buffybot popped open her mechanical access plate. Xander looked up from his book and cast an admiring eye at the Buffybot’s curved and compact backside and the crescent of black lace and satin that covered her cheek. “You know, maybe Spike isn’t so crazy after all.” He returned to his book when Buffy gave him the Slayer Fish Eye. Willow pulled Buffybot into a sitting position. “I don’t think we need exploratory engineering this time.” She twisted Buffybot’s head back into position. “Tell us what happened.” “I can tell you what’s going to happen to a certain Pesky Corpuscle Consumer when I catch up with him,” Buffy said. “I’m feeling psychic.” “I have video. I can show you.” Buffybot plugged a cable from Willow’s laptop into her USB port and downloaded the video onto the little computer screen. Willow and Buffy watched the jerky video of Buffybot fighting a demon and Dr. Ben chasing Spike with a stake. Then, Dr. Ben disappeared and Glory appeared in his place. After that, Glory slugged Buffybot in the head and Glory’s icky demons dragged Spike away. “Back that up, Buffybot,” Buffy said. “Show us the part where Dr. Ben disappears and Glory shows up. Is that some kind of video flub?” “No, that is an accurate recording of Dr. Ben Mannpflegen turning into Glory.” Buffybot displayed the clip again and Dr. Ben Mannpflegen morphed into Glory again. “So,” Xander said. “You’re saying Glory is Ben?” Buffybot smacked Xander on the head. “I am sorry, Friend of Buffy! My programming requires me to smack you on the head whenever you say something stupid!” “You’re in trouble now, Big Boy,” Willow said. “No,” Buffybot said. “Spike is in Trouble! We must hurry!” Buffybot felt her eyes leak again and that spot in her chest, just above her Thermal Actuator, felt all hurty. She might have to take her eyes to Warren for professional servicing once she saved Spike. “He sure is in trouble,” Real Buffy said. Buffy picked up the troll hammer that had been left in the shop by Anya’s former troll husband, Olaf, when he got transported to a Troll Dimension. She tossed it in the air and caught it a couple of times. “Think they went back to Glory’s apartment?” “Yes,” Buffybot said. “She is skanky and her ass is lopsided, so I think she will return to her abode. Also, they were headed in that direction.” Buffy headed for the door. “Can’t argue with the logic. Let’s go, My New Leather Skirt Girl.” Spike hung limp and dragged his feet as the poonlarp demons hauled him back to Glory’s apartment. He wasn’t slowing them up much, but it was possible Buffybot would track down Buffy and the Slayerettes and rescue him. If she figured out her head was turned backwards, that is. As the demons dragged him along, he spotted a couple of bright pieces of fabric. Buffy’s panties. He snatched them up and stuffed them in his pocket. The Bot must have dropped them. He was really going to have to find out what she’d been up to the past two days. The demons chained him up by his hands in Glory’s living room, in the spot he’d previously occupied, only this time, they secured the hook to the steel I-beam supporting the structure. Spike tested the chains. Nope, no pulling loose from this one no matter how hard the Bitch slugged him. Glory sucked on a Mojito popsicle and studied Spike. She ran her fingers through his hair and stuck one finger through his skull and rooted around. She touched the chip embedded in his frontal lobe and set it off. Spike screamed. “You know something, vampire? I’ve been going about this all wrong. I’ve been wasting my time beating and torturing you to get information and all this time you’ve been dying to tell me whatever I want to know. Haven’t you, sweetie?” Glory sucked on her popsicle and lapped it with her tongue. “Don’t know what you’re on about, and I don’t care.” Glory put her arm around Spike’s shoulders. “I think you do. I think you care a lot about a certain nasty piece of plastic in your brain. What does that thing do?” She grabbed his crotch and squeezed. He choked back a scream. No chance he was going to tell this tramp what the chip did. “Helps me beat skags like yourself into a bloody pulp.” “I don’t think so. I think somebody is lying. Doesn’t matter. I’m prepared to make a fabulous, one time only offer, vampire. You tell me who and where the Key is and I will take the chip out of your head. I think that’s fair, don’t you?” Spike gulped. Doris rang the Summers’ residence doorbell. She could hear loud rock and roll music, of the kind Doris particularly hated. Why couldn’t the youngsters play something good like Neil Diamond or Tom Jones? She’d once thrown her big white panties at Tom Jones when she went to his concert in Las Vegas while attending a Continuing Justice Education seminar. Tom was her kind of schmaltzel demon. She rang again when no one answered. The music went silent and she heard the patter of little human feet. Dawn opened the door. As Buffy and her entourage started out the door of the Magic Box to rescue Spike or slug him on the head with a troll hammer, depending on the plans of the particular member of the entourage, a Universal Parcel Service delivery man arrived carrying a long package. “Delivery for Buffy Summers?” he said. Buffy dropped her hammer, which left a large gouge in the floor. “Prezzie for me?” She signed for the package and the delivery man left. She loved prezzies. She set the package on the glass counter and stroked the box with her hands. She could feel energy – good energy – sparkling and humming through the cardboard box. Giles came down from the balcony where he’d been searching through the black magic arts books and avoiding the young persons. “Has it arrived?” The return label on the package said ‘Watchers Council, 185 London Road Tunbridge Wells Kent TN1 1EA, United Kingdom. “The old gas bags sent me something. What is it? Can I open it?” Giles nodded. “Ei solae tractare licet.” Buffy ignored him, as she always did when he spoke Watcher gibberish, and ripped open the box. Inside the package lay a sword sheathed in a silver scabbard. A beautiful sword. She touched the sheath and the sword chimed like a bell. She picked it up and held it up with both hands. She drew the gleaming sword from its scabbard. “Way cool.” The blade of the sword was wrought from tempered steel with gold filigree inserted into engraved drawings of a woman fighting a winged dragon. A large sapphire was imbedded in the pommel and a fine, gold-plated basket protected the grip. A sword knot of gold and silver threads dangled from the pommel. “This is Caladcholg,” Giles said, “It’s a two-handed broadsword, believed to once have belonged to Fergus mac Roich, a legendary warrior. According to Irish myth, it has the power to slice the tops off mountains. Its companion sword is Caledfwlch, better known as Excalibur. The sword was awarded to the Council by Queen Victoria in 1887, on the occasion of her Golden Jubilee, for the express use of the Slayer.” Buffy swung the sword in a circle. The sword flashed rainbow arcs as she turned. “Kelly Clog. Awesome.” “Caladcholg,” Giles said. “And, for once, your use of the word awesome is correct.” “Just like in the cartoon.” Buffy thrust the sword forward and plucked a button off Giles’s gnarly grey sweater vest. “And, wicked sharp.” “I know I’m going to regret asking. What cartoon?” “Sword in the Stone,” Xander said. “You know, King Arthur, Merlin, Walt Disney, Girl Squirrel and the Granny Squirrel. See, I am of the history knowledge.” “Don’t forget Sir Pelinore,” Willow said. “And, Sir Ector,” Buffybot said. “You are all perfect nincompoops. Xander, do you have your employer’s ice cream truck?” “Yeah, parked right outside. You need an ice cream novelty before we go? I’ve got some Good Humor bars left.” “We have a stop to make before we take on Glorificus and we’ll need the truck. Shall we?” Buffy held her sword up in the light. The sapphire glowed and showered sparkles around her hand. “We shall.”

Chapter #17 - Some Seriously Weird Sh*t

LAST WEEK on WWHH? Spike got kidnapped. *** Dawn got a nasty visitor. *** Buffybot got her head knocked around backwards, but not before she acquired some very important info. *** Buffy located her new pink leather skirt and got a gift. ======================================= Faboo banner by nmcil. See more at http://www.whedonworld.com/ ======================================= Reviews welcome. ======================================= Chapter 17 - Some Seriously Weird Shit Dawn held the front door open a crack. “What are you doing here?” Dawn asked. “Buffy’s not here. I’m doing my homework.” “May I come in?” Doris pushed her way past Dawn and entered the living room. “Buffy doesn’t like me to have visitors when she’s not home.” There must be some kind of law or something to keep busybodies like Doris out of her house when her sister wasn’t home. Dawn watched all the police shows. She knew her rights. Doris brushed aside a stack of Elle and Marieclaire magazines on the coffee table, and dropped her large, orange, patent pleatherette bag on the table. “I’m sure your sister won’t mind under the circumstances.” Dawn had an uneasy feeling about Doris. Not just the exasperated, irritated feeling she normally got around teachers, principals, parents and other adults. More of an edgy, weird feeling like the one she got around Glory. Maybe even a Freaked To The Point Of Wetting Her Pants Kind Of Feeling. Perhaps she could placate Doris and get her out of the house. “I went to school today and studied and everything. I’m not going to give Buffy any more trouble. I don’t want you to take me away. I want to stay with my sister.” “You aren’t going to be giving anyone any trouble any more. As for staying with your sister, that’s no longer possible.” Doris opened her bag and took out a golden glass orb. “Have you ever seen one of these before?” Dawn’s eyes grew wide. It was the same kind of magical orb Buffy brought home the night she found the dead monk. Not that Buffy told Dawn about the monk or the orb, because Buffy was, as usual big with the secrets. Dawn found out about the orb and how the monks conjured her into human form by listening behind the door while Buffy and her friends were talking. Dawn looked around the room for a weapon. Most of Buffy’s weapons were too heavy or difficult for Dawn to use and Buffy would be pissed off if Dawn injured this stupid woman from Social Services and it turned out she was just a natural flesh-crawling human. Dawn picked up a bottle of holy water and tossed it in Doris’s face. Skin peeled off her face, leaving behind the veiny, charred visage of a vengeance demon. The water evaporated with a hiss and the demon’s face returned to her human mask. Doris held up the orb and touched it to Dawn’s hand. Her skin blistered where the orb touched her and she screamed. Doris took a small vial out of the side zipped pocket of her bag and scattered black dust over Dawn’s head and tossed the vial into the fireplace, where it flashed and disappeared. Dawn’s head swam. The room spun around and Dawn could no longer feel the burn on her arm. She passed out. Spike paced around Glory’s bedroom. Glory had let him off the steel hook and took the iron cuffs off his wrists so he could appreciate the sincerity of her offer. She’d locked him in her bedroom with only two scabby little demons to keep him from jumping through the plate-glass window to freedom. He was supposed to be thinking over Glory’s offer. Give up the Key and get the chip out. Yeah, get the chip out. The moment he’d been waiting for, wishing for, wanking for the past two years. “Get the chip out. Feed on something fresh and dainty. Smash and bite and kill and do all the things I’ve been missing since the Initiative cut my balls off. Won’t have to put up with any more lip from the Slayer, either. I’ll be my own man again. If I want to help the Slayer out with some little demon problem now and again, I could do that, but there’ll be no more interfering with my biting the neck of some tasty trollop behind the Bronze of a Saturday night.” Buffy would never have to know. Still, probably best to escape if he could, in case Glory wasn’t sincere about her offer. He fingered the contents of his leather coat hoping for something to help him escape – two pair of Buffy’s panties, cigarettes, a lighter and one third of a can of vampire strength suntan spray. Not much to work with there. Nothing for it but to accept Glory’s offer and see what happened. He pulled his cigarettes and lighter out of his pocket and Buffy’s panties floated to the floor. He picked them up and sniffed them. “Damn. Banging the Slayer in her own bed was a bit of all right. Not much chance of getting another piece of Slayer cunny. Not that I’d want it, because Big Bad here. Fuck ‘em and Forget ‘em. That’s my motto.” He held the panties up to the light. Suddenly, he felt a little uncertain about his plan. Glory came into the bedroom and pushed Spike onto her goddess-sized round bed and straddled him. “Thinking time’s over, Dead Man Lurking. What’s it going to be? Get your chip out or get your head twisted off?” Spike grabbed her hips and dug his fingers in. He gave her his best, tongue rolled behind his teeth, smoldering look. “Maybe I need a little sweetener.” “Sex with a Goddess? You think big, vampire. I like that. No, wait, no, I don’t like that. I prefer toadying and fear.” “Okay, you got me. Take the chip out and I’ll tell you where the Key is.” “Not the way it works, Precious.” Glory ground her pelvis against Spike’s crotch. “First you tell and I find the Key. Then, I take the chip out if it happens you’re telling the truth.” “Fine, I’ll tell you.” He lit a cigarette and took a puff. “Anytime today would be fine.” “I’m coming to it. Not easy going against the Slayer, you know. This is going to right brass her off and what with this chip in my head, I can’t exactly defend myself.” Glory reached in his pocket and snatched out Buffy’s panties. “I can see you and the Slayer don’t get along at all.” She waved the panties in the air. “Stole those – uh – stole them for a spell, that’s what. Me and the Slayer, mortal enemies. Grrrr. Arrggh.” Spike curled his fingers into claws. “Uh huh. The Slayer always lets her mortal enemies go through her underwear drawer. Spill, vampire. I’m feeling PMSie.” “Doris Kroeger. She works down at the Social Services office making life a living hell for the Slayer. Take out the chip and I’m on my way.” “Not so fast, Blondie. I know Doris. She’s as old as the pyramids. She goes to Tom Jones concerts and throws her Size 52 panties at him. She is not the Key.” “Right.” Think, think, think. “Oh! Right! She isn’t the Key, but she knows who the Key is. It’s one of her little kiddies, er, Rupert Giles is the kid’s name.” “I know who Rupert Giles is and he isn’t a little kiddie. He runs that lame-o magic shop on Center Street.” Glory folded her arms and sing-songed. “Somebody’s making me angry.” Spike sighed. The time had come. He’d hope to stall her off, hoped he’d never have to do this, but there was no use waiting. “Dawn. The Slayer’s kid sister is the Key. She’s hiding in the basement of my lair. Now, about that chip, luv?” “If you’re lying to me, vampire, I’ll have to cut your head off, starting with your big toe,” Glory said. “Fine with me. If I don’t get this chip out, Slayer will do it for you.” Glory ran her hands over Spike’s chest. “Tell me again, cutie, where I can find my Key? I love hearing it.” “Uh, like I said, Dawn, the Slayer’s kid sister is the Key. Now, about getting my chip out, do you think you could take it out before the Slayer shows up to kick my ass?” “Oh, sugar, I’m beginning to think you aren’t listening. First, I send out my minions to find the Key, then they bring her back here. If Little Miss Sassy is the Key, I take the chip out and if you’re lying to me, I rip out your liver and feed it to Dank. He loves fried liver.” Spike gulped. “You’re a right hard bargainer, Your Toss Pot Trullness, I’ll take your scabby bootlicker to find the Key and bring her back.” “Aren’t you just full of clever suggestions? So clever, I’m beginning to think you’re lying to me. You wouldn’t lie to me would you? Because I might not stop with just your liver.” “In my crypt. In the basement. She’s hiding in a coffin.” Glory clapped her hands. “Minions! I found the Key. No thanks to you.” She opened the bedroom door to find Jinx listening at the keyhole. “Get over to Spike’s crypt and bring her back.” Jinx fell on the floor and bowed with his butt in the air. “Your Pearly Scrumptiousness. As your words are spoken, your commands are fulfilled.” “Fine, fine, fine. Go get her. Oh, I forgot something. Slook! Bring me those chains.” Slook, the only female poonlarp demon among Glory’s minions, fetched in the chains. After a certain amount of chasing Spike around the room, she tripped him, knocked him unconscious with a blow to the back of his head, delivered with the blunt edge of a small axe she wore tucked into her waist rope, and chained him up. “He is a very fine and manly specimen, your Sexy Slitheriness,” Slook said. “Perhaps you should keep this one.” Glory tapped her finger on her chin. “That’s a thought, Slook. Do you think he can learn to toady?” After Doris checked to see if Dawn was comfortably floating in space, encircled by a green binding force, she made a call on her cell phone. Dawn woke up and struggled against the magic binding spell, but only entangled herself further in the black web of power strands that wove through the green energy band. “Quit struggling, Dawn,” Doris said. “You’re just making it worse.” Her cell phone toned out the speed dial number. “Slook? It’s Doris. I’ve got the Key. Can I bring her over?” “You have the Key! How marvelous! But wait. Glorificus wants to go to the spa before she starts the ceremony. She needs a punta mita tequila and sage massage to relax before the big event.” “Oh, yes, the spa would be much better,” Doris fluffed her hair. “I could use a piranha pedicure myself.” She hung up the phone. “Let’s go Teen Queen. Maybe Glory will buy you a cream and sugar scrub before she guts you.” Doris pinched Dawn by the ear and dragged her out to the car. A few minutes after Doris drove away, Spikebot drove up in the black Lincoln Crown Victoria automobile belonging to Warren’s mother, with Warren, Jonathan/Short Stuff and Whatshisname/Penis Breath/Metrosexual riding in the back. “Pull up close to the house,” Warren said. “I don’t want the neighbors to see me and call the cops. My picture will be all over the news, after I broke out of the Big House. The cops won’t be taking any chances with a dangerous criminal like me.” “Your mom bailed you out, Little Caesar,” Jonathan said. “This is Buffy and Dawn’s house,” Spikebot said. “Can I see Buffy?” “Yeah, yeah,” Warren and the others slid out of the car and onto the porch. “Hey, the door is open. Great!” They slunk into the house. Andrew and Jonathan headed for the refrigerator. “Hey,” Andrew said. “Look at this, frozen pudding pops and Eskimos. The Slayer really knows how to eat.” “Gimme,” Jonathan said. He snatched a chocolate pudding pop out of Andrew’s hand. Warren came into the kitchen and smacked Andrew and pulled Jonathan’s nose. “Cretins. We’re looking for Dawn. You know? The Key? The person we get huge sums of cash for when we deliver her to Glory?” Jonathan rubbed his nose. “Dawn isn’t here, Brain Trust.” He rubbed the pudding pop on his nose to reduce the swelling. The phone rang. The three ran and shoved each other trying to reach the phone. Spikebot picked up the phone. “I am Spike. Where is Buffy?” “Spike?” Buffy said. “What are you doing in my house? Never mind. Put Dawn on the phone.” “Dawn is not here. We are looking for her.” “Huh?” Warren grabbed the phone. “Slayer! It’s Warren, you know, from the Trio. Your Arch Nemesises. Sees.” “Warren, you ass. Where is my sister? If you’ve done anything to her, I’m going to pull your greasy chest hair out by the roots.” “I think not, Slayer. I have your sister and I know who – and what – she is. She’s the Key and Glorificus is looking for her.” “You little pr--!” “Language, Slayer. That’s no way to talk to the man who’s holding your sister hostage. I have your sister. You give me money. Let’s say ten – no fifty thousand dollars and I’ll return her completely unharmed. You don’t give me the money and I sell her to the highest bidder.” “You are in for a world of orthopedic surgery.” Buffy hung up. Warren replaced the kitchen phone on its hook. “The Slayer has a bad temper. I never knew that about her. Did you know that?” Jonathan flipped his naked pudding pop stick onto the kitchen counter. “Jackass. We don’t have the Slayer’s sister. She’s going to pound your butt into the ground and plant daisies in your ears when she catches up with you.” “Me? When she catches up with us, don’t you mean? We have to find Dawn before the Slayer finds us. Spikebot, do you know what Dawn smells like?” “Yes. She smells like strawberry poptarts with creamy icing.” “Good. Sniff her out my man.” Spikebot sniffed the air with his Logic Compatible Output Sinks, compared the scent analysis with his Ultrasonic Ping Sensor and headed out the door. Buffy got back in Giles’s Middle Age Crisis red sports car. The car was sitting outside Glory’s fabulous and abandoned bachelorette pad, parked next to an ice cream delivery van. Buffy closed the lid on Giles’s cell phone, which was not nearly as satisfying as banging a phone receiver down. She couldn’t believe Spike would sink so low. After all he’d done to protect Dawn from Glory, he’d given her sister up to Warren. He claimed he loved her, swore he’d do anything to keep her from being hurt, even let himself nearly get killed to protect Dawn so Buffy wouldn’t be heartbroken. He made her care about him, when she didn’t want to. He took her on the swings and stole a bag of Cheetos for her. He said he loved her and it meant nothing. He told that Doris woman he wanted to marry her and that meant less than nothing. He’d betrayed her. He was just like all the rest. Warren must have promised Spike something – money or blood or no -- the chip. Warren must have promised to help Spike get rid of the chip. Spike wanted to go back to biting and killing and being a bad ass vampire. He’d never stopped wanted to be a killer for a single moment. Being a killer was more important to him than loving Buffy. He hadn’t changed a bit. She wiped away a couple of tears and handed Giles his phone. “Warren has Dawn.” “Who the bloody hell is Warren?” Giles said. He took off his Ray Bans and cleaned them on his handkerchief. “Creator of the Buffybot,” Buffy said. “And, thorn in my butt.” Willow came out of Glory’s building holding a bag with some of Glory’s clothes. She came up to the car. “What now?” “Can you do a locator spell on the fly, Will? We need to find Dawn and Glory. Spike, too.” “Easy peasie for Glory,” she held up the bag. “I’ll need something that belongs to Spike.” Buffy reached into her patrol bag and took out a torn black tee shirt. She gave Willow a steady look that said with no mistake Willow should not under any circumstance short of the onset of the next Ice Age, ask how this shirt came to be in her possession. Buffybot was sitting in the back seat of Giles’s car and getting restless. She tapped Buffy on the shoulder. “We must save Spike,” Buffybot said. “My voice sounds whiny.” “Spike crossed the line. He joined up with Warren to snatch my sister and give her to Glory. He’s Evil. There will be no saving of Spike.” “Spike is Evil?” Buffybot’s brain whirred with dangerous intention. Spikebot pointed to a wooden coffin stored next to Spike’s bed in the basement of his crypt. “I should have known,” Warren said. “Where else would Spike keep her? Dawn, baby. Come out, come out.” He looked around. He saw a row of tiny panties lined up on Spike’s bed. “Man, Spike is into some seriously weird shit.” Andrew shuffled behind Warren and bumped into him. “Does Spike wear women’s panties?” His face looked hopeful. “Sure he does. Just like you and Short Stuff.” He kicked the lid off a spare coffin leaning against the wall. “Here’s our beauty. Dawn, rise and shine, kid.” A perfect robotic replica of Dawn stepped out of the coffin and flipped her long, brown hair over her shoulder. “I Am Not A Kid.”

Chapter #18 - Does It Involve Bark and Roots?

Woo Hoo! Nominated for Best Fluffy Spuffy and Best Romance at Spuffy Awards and Spark and Burn Awards! Now, that’s just awesome! =========================================== Love those reviews! =========================================== Bummer, the characters belong to Joss and I wish he'd make me a nice Spike movie. No copyright infringement intended. =========================================== Last week on WWHH? Buffybot got damaged and Spikebot had to save her. Pastries dipped in hot grease were discussed. *** Buffy located her new pink leather skirt. *** Spike located some more of Buffy's panties. *** Dawn invited a stranger in the house and I thought she knew better after the whole Harmony thing. *** Doris ruminated over the musical culture divide between persons of taste, like herself and youngsters like Dawn. *** The Council sent Buffy a way awesome sword. =========================================== Chapter 18 - Does It Involve Bark and Roots? Giles drove his spiffy red convertible up to the front door of the Golden Desert of the Dead Healing Spa. “I say, do you think they have valet parking? I don’t like to leave my new car standing in a no parking zone.” The Golden Desert Spa was a two-story building shaped like an octagon, with faux Pueblo architecture, yellow ochre colored adobe walls, red-tiled roof and a center solarium of clear glass. A large ruby stone, placed in the center of the glass, sparkled in the sun. Palm trees looped around the building and the building was couched with desert plants – cacti, saguaro, flowering yucca, sage plants and brittlebush. Buffy could not identify any of these plants except the palm trees and thought of them in a single botanical group – plant things with scratchy stickers. From the east, a sickly green and black cloud swarmed down from the mountains and wrapped itself around the building. As the clouds enclosed the building, the ruby center stone emitted black bolts of electricity. Buffy got out of the car and slammed the door. “There’s something you don’t see everyday, black thunderbolts. Unless you’re me.” Xander drove up behind Giles in the ice cream van with the rest of the gang. The van belonged to the Sunnydale Ice Cream Novelties & Pastry Company, Xander’s current employer. The truck smelled of vanilla cake frosting and other sugary treats. Willow and Tara tumbled out of the back of the truck with their bags of magic supplies. “Are you sure about this, Willow?” Buffy asked as she looked up at the cut ruby knob on the top of the building that was spinning and spurting out multi-colored sparks of red and pea green. “It looks evil, but is it the evil we’re looking for?” Willow held up a white silk scarf with a map of Sunnydale magically inked on one side. The scarf showed Glory’s location in livid, throbbing red. “Yep. There she is. I think she’s getting the hot stone massage, which is why it’s so pulsating.” A stream of women, wearing pink smocks stampeded out the front doors, screaming. “What about Spike?” “Spike is Evil,” Buffybot said as she climbed out of the back seat of Giles’ car. “It’s my duty to kill Evil. No, it’s my duty to be nice to Spike. But, you should see him naked. I mean really.” Spike had programmed the Buffybot to be nice to him. How lame-o was that? Buffy felt a momentary wave of guilt that perhaps if she had been nice to him once in a while, he might not have had to program an overwired toaster to be his friend. She reminded herself that Spike was more interested in the ninety-two sex positions that Buffybot no doubt featured than in being Buffy’s friend. Willow held up the black tee shirt Buffy had given her to find Spike. It had red smudges in various places. “Can’t tell. Vampires aren’t easy to locate. Where did you say you got this tee shirt?” No way she was going to tell Willow where she got Spike’s tee shirt. She drew Caladcholg out of its sheath and pointed it over her head. The sword sucked in energy from the black lightening bolts and sizzled. Glorificus lounged in the whirlpool at the Golden Desert of the Dead Healing Spa and held out her hand to Slook. The spiral-shaped whirlpool was lined with aqua blue cement, patterned with rust colored mosaics of Kokopelli, the Pueblo trickster god, playing his flute, or blowing his poison blow dart, depending on the minutiae of one’s religious persuasion. It was one of three pools in the building placed in a large circle. In the middle of the configuration of whirlpools and connected to them by gutters of water, was a reflecting pool, brightly lit by a shaft of sunlight that pierced the storm clouds and entered the glass solarium. The fiercely hot water soothed Glorificus as it boiled and swirled around her. She leaned her head against a cream-colored satin cushion. She hadn’t felt this relaxed in weeks. Everything was coming together – the Ceremony, the Key, that pestiferous vampire. Better still, the pesky Slayer had no idea where she was or that her vampire pal snitched out the Key. Slook knelt by the side of the whirlpool in an uncomfortable position that made her thong ride up. She shaped one nail on Glory’s hand with a diamond emery board. “Would your Magnificent Muskiness care for an Abhyanga massage? The masseuse is tied up in the back room awaiting your pleasure.” “Does it involve bark and roots?” Slook rubbed her hands together and slicked the excess grease on her skanky locks. “It’s a deep penetrating herbal oil massage that relaxes your mind and body, removes impurities and heightens awareness –.” “Removes impurities? Are you insinuating I have impurities?” Slook bowed and knocked her forehead on the tile floor. “A thousand million apologies, Your Radiant Randiness, but the Handsome And Hunkiferous Ben, with whom you share your Oh So Dulciferous body, might have impurities.” When no slap was forthcoming, Slook lifted her head and resumed her crouched position of pain. She dipped a brush into a bottle of fingernail polish and lapped a streak of Chaos Cactus Rose on Glory's fingernail. "There, you'll look just lovely for the ceremony, your Fantastic Floweriness." "That was lame. You're going to have to get up to speed on the toadying once we get back home." "Yes, your Mellow Moistness. Home. It seems like forever since we've been home." Slook finished another nail and blew on Glory's fingers. "Don't blow on me you repulsive slug. Give me the hot stone massage." Glory stepped out of the whirlpool and accepted the fluffy pink towel sarong Slook held out, while averting her gaze from Glory's pearly and perfect body. Glory flopped herself on a nearby massage table. Droop, Krust and Mange brought in Carmelita, a dark-haired, dark-eyed Mexican girl who specialized in hot stone therapy. They stumbled several times, being blindfolded, before getting Carmelita into place. The girl was rigid with terror and stood by the massage table in a stupor. After Glory threw a massage stone at her forehead to knock her out of her trance, the girl slathered Glory’s skin with massage oil made of bitter orange, sandalwood, neroli and lavender, combined in a base of beeswax and shea butter. She plumped and stroked Glory’s back with hot and cool stones. Mange, Krust and Droop stood nearby with their hands folded in front of them and their white blindfolds neatly tied behind their ears. Giles caught Buffy’s arm and dragged her away from the building. He removed the sporty new Ray Ban knockoff sunglasses he’d purchased to wear while driving his new car and tucked them in his pocket. “We need to finesse this a bit, Buffy. Glory is not going to harm Dawn until the precise hour of the ceremony, which I calculate to be,” he held up his wrist and admired his tungsten and platinum watch which was an excellent knockoff of a Rollex, “in twelve minutes and fifteen seconds.” Buffy renewed her grip on Caladcholg. “You and Xander go in the front door and take out as many minions as you can.” She opened the trunk of Giles car and tossed them some inferior swords. She handed the troll hammer to Buffybot. “Buffybot and I will clear the solarium. Willow and Tara, as soon as the minions are out of the way, you set up your magic circle. After that, I’m going to find Dawn and deal with Spike.” “I’m going to deal with Spike,” Buffybot said. She swung the hammer and destroyed a column supporting the building. Buffy had a pretty good idea what Buffybot’s idea of dealing with Spike was. She planned to keep the two of them as far apart as possible. “Come on, Sack of Silicon. You can help me.” Glory’s High Poonlarp Priest entered the massage room and bowed, touching his nose to his knees, which was no easy feat at his advanced age, and despite the fact Glorificus couldn’t see him and wouldn’t have looked at him in any case. Some poonlarps felt toadying when no one could see you accomplished nothing, but Molt believed toadying was an end in itself. He was thinking of making a spiritual tape The Weltanschauung of Toady. "Your Effervescent Excellence of Evil, It is I, Molt, Your Extremely Elevated Priest and Chauffeur. I greet you." "What do you want, Molt? Can't you see I'm busy here?" Glory held out her hand for Slook to continue painting her nails. “Since I have donned the ritual blindfold, not really.” “Get on with it.” "I merely wished to remind Your Dazzling Divineness the ceremony must commence in twelve minutes and fifteen seconds. The sun will be in exactly the right position to suck the Key dry like an aluminum beer can and open the dimensions." "Maybe you forgot the part where I'm a hellgod and I know everything, like when the ceremony is supposed to take place, hmmm?" Molt dropped to the ground and banged his crusty forehead on the ceramic tile floor. "Please seize my worthless life, eradicate my head from my loathsome shoulders with a butter knife, extract my fingernails with a pair of needle-nosed pliers, peel the blistered skin off my skull and use it to make a handbag, boil my blood for your afternoon cocktail, string my finger bones on my spinal cord to make a necklace, torment me as you will, Your Most Distinctive Demiurginess of Divine Demonifity, as atonement for my presumption ..." Molt's voice drifted off. It wouldn't do to continue because she just might take him up on one of his suggestions. He lamented he had been so effusive in his recommendations. Still, Glory always appreciated enthusiastic groveling. Groveling and praiseworthy toadying had led him to his exalted position of High Priest. He prided himself especially on his superlative toadying. "Put a sock in it, Molt," she said. "Is everything ready for the ceremony?" "Not precisely. There's still the matter of the Key. We can hardly proceed without the Pea-green Piquant Pit of Purly Puissance." Glory tapped her teeth with her fingernail and made a tiny chip in the glossy red enamel. "The Energizer Bunny is on the way. My vampire finally told me where to find her." "I obsequiously request your permission to withdraw to commence my spiritual preparations so I may be worthy to greet the Key." "Whatever, just make sure everything's ready so I don't have to boil your eyeballs in oil. Slook! Look at my nail! Do you expect me to descend to my hell dimension looking like this?” Glory rolled off the massage table scattering rocks everywhere and grabbed Slook by the hair. Molt crept out while Glory was smacking Slook around the ears, grateful for the distraction and relieved he’d managed an interview with Glorificus without losing one or more of his body parts. Buffy clutched Caladcholg in her right fist and used her left hand to climb a palm tree on the side of the building. The blade of her sword glittered in the single ray of the sun that pierced the storm clouds. She climbed further up into the top of the tree and peered into the solarium. She couldn’t see a thing because the sun was glaring off the glass and the ruby red knob was flashing like the mirror ball in Xander’s basement pad. “Where’s my Key? Why isn’t she here?” Glory asked. She cradled the head of Carmelita the Hot Stone Massage Girl on the tips of her fingers. “Your key?” Carmelita said as she struggled to get out of Glory’s grasp. “I don’t think I know where your key is. Did you leave it in your locker?” Glory stabbed her fingers into Carmelita’s head. “Not you, Massage Maven.” Rays of light burst from Carmelita’s head as Glory sucked the energy out of her brain. “Oh, that feels much better. Droop! Mange! Krust! Where’s my key where’s my key where’s my key!” She screamed with frustration and tossed Carmelita into the whirlpool, sending a fountain of spray over her three poonlarp servants. Before Glory could finish her tantrum, Jinx crawled into the whirlpool room, with his forehead scraping the tiles. “Well?” “It appears that the vampire lied, your Cursed Comeliness. We went to the crypt and examined all the coffins, but the girl, Dawn, was not there.” Glorificus stomped her foot and cracked the floor. “Get out of my sight, you worthless worm eating bootlicker.” Jinx, followed by his fellow poonlarps, skittered out of the room before Glory could change her mind and rip off the heads of one or more of her devoted servants. While Glory was still tapping her fingernail on her teeth and trying to think of a way to locate the Key in the next eleven minutes and fifty-two seconds, Doris Kroger emerged from the locker room, pulling the floating Dawn along by the ear. “Your Gory Gumptiousness, I, Doris Kroeger, your Most Unworthy Servant, have brought your Key.” Doris released the binding spell and pushed Dawn forward. Dawn screamed and kicked Doris in the leg and stomped on her toes. “Oh, sweety. You’re just the feistiest little thing. Where’s my vampire? Bring him in.” Spike hadn’t been this close to chucking up down the front of his shirt since the alcohol saturated night he arrived in Sunnydale with the brilliant plan of using the Slayer’s guts to floss his fangs. Another plan shot to hell. Bad enough the damn demons, poonlarps or some such, strung him up to a ceiling fan which spun around, but they’d trussed him up in the damn aromatherapy room where the stench of roots and twigs and flowers and bark would have overwhelmed any mere man. The smells were positively abusive to the refined nose of a vampire. “Hey,” he yelled. “Get me down!” He hoped if he made enough noise one of the demons would cut him down to get him to shut up, or Buffy would arrive. Two of Glory’s scabby demons came into the aromatherapy room. Dreg and Murk unhooked Spike from the ceiling fan where he’d been spinning for the past half hour and cut the rope tying his hands. They hauled him into the next room and tossed him in the whirlpool along with the babbling massage girl. He splashed to the surface and stood up. The Dawnbot was here. His plan was working just as, well, planned. “Prezzie for you, vampire,” Glory said. “For telling me where to find my Key. It was swell of you. Have a drink.” She folded her arms and gave him a pissy look that didn’t seem exactly right for someone who’d just got what she wanted, but Spike brushed the thought aside. Who could figure out hellgods, after all? Spike quivered at the thought of a drink of hot, young, toothsome, fresh blood, of sinking his fangs into her warm neck and quenching his two-year drought with a gush of the hard stuff, but restrained himself from doing something utterly foolish and painful. “Don’t want a drink. I want this bleeding chip out of my head.” Spike gripped the girl by the arms to keep her from hurting herself as she flailed around. Glory might decide to kill her and there was no use wasting good food. Carmelita struggled and pointed to Dawn. “Nothing there nothing there nothing there.” Spike cut a look at the Dawnbot who’d broken loose from Doris, but was now being held in the firm grasp of the poonlarp High Priest. No, it couldn’t be. “What the f --” “You told them where to find me,” Dawn said. Her voice was pitched to High Screech which was very painful to Spike’s ears. She pointed her bony index finger at Spike. “Buffy is going to grind your dusty ass up for kitty litter. Right after she rips your skull loose and uses it to play football. BUFFY!” Spike covered his ears. This wasn’t right at all. He’d told the demons to go to his crypt. They must have stumbled on the real Dawn. And, this ugly woman with the brown hair. He recognized her from someplace. Where, where? Oh yeah. Buffy’s house. The woman from Social Services. None of this was making sense. “Clotlet? Is that you?” “Of course it’s me. Who did you think it was?” She broke loose from Molt’s grip and picked up a cactus filled, decorative ceramic planter and aimed for Spike’s head. Warren strolled into the atrium with his two sidekicks and the Spikebot who was holding another Dawn’s hand. “Glory, babe. Got your Key. Let’s talk money. I’ve already got $50K on the table from her sister.” “Who the hell are you?” Spike said to the Spikebot. The Dawnbot smiled, showing her neat rows of polished, porcelain teeth. “I am Dawn. I am the Key.” Dawnbot walked over to Real Dawn. “Say, look at you. You look just like me! We're very pretty.” KRASH! Dawn dropped the ceramic planter on the floor and stared at her robot twin. “Spike,” Really Real Dawn said. “What. Have. You. Done?”

Chapter #19 - Weapons of Mass Destruction

=========================================== Thanks everyone for reviewing and reading! The characters belong to Joss. =========================================== Chapter 19 – Weapons of Mass Destruction Slook sat at the spa’s front reception desk, fussing with the appointment book, and watched through the glass doors as two gentlemen unloaded dozens of white cardboard boxes onto hand trucks and wheeled them into the building. “Would you gentlemen care for a complementary avocado and citrus facial peel today?” Slook said. Slook had abandoned her post with Glory after the latest ear-slapping incident. She was beginning to wonder if serving a Hellgod was really the wisest career move she could make. Becoming a Professional Nail Technician would be more fun, especially if handsome men like these two came in all the time. Certainly there would be fewer bruises and scratches. “Perhaps another time,” the older, more distinguished man said. “We’d like to speak to the proprietor. We have a delivery.” He indicated the stacks of white boxes. “I can sign for those if you like,” Slook said. She picked up the silver gel pen left by the Jennifer, the receptionist, who Glory had brainsucked for lunch. Slook was not certain the brain sucking did any appreciable damage to Jennifer’s brain, which made her confident she could handle Jennifer’s job. The younger man picked up the top box on his hand truck, opened it and took out a large whipped cream pie. “Get your boss out here or I’ll have to use this.” “You wouldn’t!” Slook said. Taking no chance, she ran out of the room screaming for Jinx. Buffy climbed up the scaly palm tree, with Buffybot right behind her. Buffybot had been talking herself in circles since she got out of the car. Buffy might have to test out her new sword on the Buffybot’s neck if she didn’t shut up soon. “Spike is Evil and I kill Evil and my duty is to be nice to Spike and my duty is to kill Evil. Really Real Buffy can I ask you a question?” “Sure. I’ve got nothing else to do.” Buffy reached the second-story gutter, put her foot over the edge and heaved herself up on the glass roof. “When I went to see Guy-iles at 0507 Pacific Time, he told me we all must do our duty, even if our duty turns out differently from our original intentions or plans. He told me to think about what he said.” Buffybot climbed higher on the palm tree and the trunk swayed. “I thought about what Guy-iles said and I decided my duty was to Be Nice to Spike, which is very pleasant.” “I just bet.” Buffy edged forward onto the glass roof. She wasn’t going to fall through the glass like she did that time at the abandoned fraternity house. “But Spike is Evil and I Kill Evil. I do not know what to do because I would rather do my duty and be nice to Spike.” Buffybot edged closer to the top of the tree which bent under the combined weight of the Buffybot and the troll hammer she was gripping in her hand. “Besides, I love Spike and I don’t want to kill him, even if he is Evil, and I don’t really know if he was Evil, I only know you said he was Evil and there isn’t any proof that he is Evil and I want to believe you because you’re the Really Real Buffy, but if I believe you, then I’ll have to kill Spike and I don’t want to kill Spike. Really.” Buffy flattened herself out on the glass roof and stretched out Caladcholg. She could almost touch the red bobber doohickey thing which was sucking energy out of the sky. If she could knock the red thing off, she could probably stop the dimensions from opening, rescue Dawn, save the world and exterminate Glory – and Spike – at her leisure. Then, something Buffybot said pierced her consciousness. “What did you just say?” “When I went to see Guy-iles at 0507 Pacific Time, he told me we all must do our duty, even if our duty turns out differently from our original intentions –.” “No, later. ‘I only know you said he was Evil’ – after that.” She shimmied out a little further on the glass. She reached as far as she could and scraped the red thingie with the point of her sword. “You said Spike was Evil and there isn’t any proof he is Evil and I want to believe you because you’re the Really Real Buffy, but if I believe you, then I’ll have to kill Spike --.” “Stop!” Proof. She had no proof. Wait. She did have proof. “The mirrors. Willow said she saw Spike in the mirror at the Thank Heaven Convenience Food Mart, which she couldn’t have because Spike doesn’t have a reflection.” “Well, duh,” Buffybot said. “Which means Spike didn’t rob his own cousin, Wedgie Chalk. Which means I really don’t know -- .” She swung her arm back and hacked at the red throbbing light. As Buffy’s sword began its cutting slash, Buffybot reached the thin spine at the top of the palm tree which snapped off and sent Buffybot and Buffy crashing through the glass ceiling of the spa’s solarium. Xander hefted the first pie in his hand. “You sure this is going to work?” Giles arranged several pies – coconut cream, lemon, key lime, banana and chocolate rum - on the receptionist’s desk. “The Cambridge Companion of Demonology states categorically that cream pies are lethally toxic to all poonlarp demons.” Three poonlarps, Jinx, Dreg and Murk, ran into the reception room followed by eleven more poonlarps -- Burp, Slurp, Droop, Crank, Kink, Mange, Krust, Skink, Frag, Gronx, Jr. and Nook. Gronx, Jr. and Nook were younger and, therefore, scabbier, demons. “Here’s pie in your eye,” Xander said. He threw the first pie – maple persimmon custard - at Gronx, Jr. It landed square in Gronx, Jr.’s face. Gronx, Sr., who ran in late, yelled. “Don’t eat it, Junior!” Gronx, Jr. wiped a big gob of tasty whipped cream off his face and shoved it in his mouth. He continued to eat hunks of pie with no seeming bad effects. “Great,” Xander said. “Did the Cambridge Companion mention we’d have to wait for them to die of high cholesterol?” Dawn lifted another ceramic planter over her head. “Spike,” Dawn said. “What. Have. You. Done?” Spike inched closer to Dawn with his hands raised, hoping to intercept that sodding big pot before she crushed his skull with it. “It’s not like you think, Platelet. I had that bugger Warren make up an extra Dawn so --” She tossed the planter. “So you could have sex with it. You’re like a child molester. A gross gross child molester person.” Spike had a flash of the first time he’d seen Buffy, sixteen years old and hot as hell. Nope, no childlike attributes there, not to mention he’d only wanted to kill her until she was eighteen. He ducked and the planter crashed on the floor. “Nibblet, let me explain.” “Totally, immensely and disgustingly gross and I can’t wait until Buffy stakes you so I can laugh. Hah! Hah! Hah!” A giant crash and the sound of a shower of splintering glass came from the solarium. “You won’t have to wait long,” he said. “She’s here.” Glory waved her hands at her remaining minions who dragged Spike and the two Dawns into the locker room. Buffy and Buffybot waded out of the reflecting pool and shook glass out of their hair. “I am wet,” Buffybot said. She wiped water off her pink leather skirt, which Buffy said was new. “You are a moron,” Buffy said. She looked up at the formerly glassed in ceiling. “Damn. The red thingamabobby is still up there.” The ruby glowed and throbbed with light as a ray of the sun touched its eastern edge. Further discussion was cut off by the arrival of Glory’s second squad of poonlarp demons. The oldest, Crud, drew a rusty sword and ran towards Buffy. She sliced Crud’s head off with Caladcholg. The sword gleamed with fierce white light and threw off rainbow arcs as it separated the demon’s head from his shoulders. She grabbed Scrot in a head lock and threatened to poke his eye out with the tip of her sword. “Where is she?” Scrot, not the bravest or boldest of the poonlarp team, capitulated. “Her Cursed Curmudgeonliness is having a whirlpool bath and a massage. Perhaps you could come back later.” Buffy sliced off his greasy pony tail. “Not that skank. Where’s my sister?” Before Scrot could answer, a herd of poonlarp minions attacked Buffy and the Buffybot. The minions circled them, waving steaming hot towels and tossing massage stones which they threw with very little accuracy. Buffy and Buffybot fought back to back, kicking and scratching, which the demons hated. Buffy swung Caladcholg in deadly rainbow arcs, slashing and whacking off demon heads in a circle of death. She swung too wide and took out a couple of columns that were supporting the roof of the south wing. Buffybot slugged demons on their heads and toes with her weighty troll hammer causing much screaming and gnashing of teeth. Buffybot grasped Buffy’s hand, gave Buffy a tremendous flying spin and launched her into a pack of demons. Buffy sliced off heads – right, left and center, stomped a couple of knees and skewered three plump demons at once on her sword, which erupted into white hot flames. Together, the Buffies cleared the solarium area. Giles whipped pies into the faces of Burp, Slurp and Droop. “Don’t witter about, Xander. Throw those damn pies!” He threw another pie at Jinx, who ducked, causing the pie to smack into the face of Dreg, who was standing behind him. Dreg, between pushing gobs of pie in his mouth, picked up one of the pies off the desk and slapped it into Giles’ face. Giles picked up two pies, one in each hand and slammed them together onto Dreg’s face. “Hey,” Xander said. “A cluster pie.” Murk, Crank, Kink, Mange, Krust, Skink, Frag and Nook grabbed boxes off Xander’s hand truck and tossed pies wildly at Xander and Giles and at each other. Xander ran out of pies first. “Somebody, give me a pie!” Mange, Lunk and Skink all threw pies into Xander’s face. While they were reloading, Murk and Crank threw more pies at Xander. Xander ducked and Kink and Nook were taken out by friendly fire. Giles tossed Xander a pie and he took out Krust with an overhand slam. A few minutes later all the pies had been fired and all the poonlarps were rolling on the floor licking pie off themselves, each other and the floor. ‘This is just disgusting,” Xander said. The two Buffies ran to help Xander and Giles in the reception room, who were standing around eating slices of raspberry mocha pie and watching a purse of poonlarps wallow in whipped cream on the floor. Buffy dispatched three more demons, who were decorated with lemon cream and waved Willow and Tara in the front door as the demon heads rolled to the reflecting pool and plopped into the water. Buffybot picked up a key lime pie and smashed it on the head of Molt, the High Poonlarp Priest, who had come to see what the ruckus was about. “That'll put marzipan in your pie plate, bingo!” Buffybot said. “That was stupid,” Buffy said. While Buffy continued exterminating the remaining demons and getting pie goop on her fashionable outfit, Buffybot searched the building for Spike and Dawn. She walked through the aromatherapy room and the massage rooms, the whirlpool room and the locker room, where she located Glory, one poonlarp demon, Spike and Two Dawns. She looked at Dawn. “You are the Key and Buffy’s sister.” She looked at the second Dawn. “You are the Key and Buffy’s sister.” Her brain whirred in a tight cramping spiral. “You are the Key and you are the Key and you are the Sister and you are the Sister and Buffy is the Buffy and I am the Buffy, but I’ll never be exactly and I know the only really real Buffy is really Buffy and she's --” “Knock it off, Bot,” Spike said. “You’ve got to help me get Dawn out of here before Glory starts slashing and cutting.” Buffybot looked at the Two Dawns. “Which one?” Glory sat on a bench in the locker room and examined her nails. She’d chipped another one when she jabbed her fingers into the massage girl’s skull. After the ceremony was over, she’d have to eviscerate Slook. As she was thinking this cheerful thought, she morphed into Ben. Dank, the only poonlarp to avoid the wholesale pie slaughter in the reception area, held out Glory’s official red velvet ceremonial robe with the gold soutache braid. “Would you care to put on the robe at this time, Ben?” “No, no, no,” Ben said. “I am not dressing up in any more of Glory’s clothes.” Spike smirked. “Don’t know why. You look pretty good in that pink fluffy thing.” Spike flicked his fingers back and forth to indicate the pink towel sarong Ben was wearing. “But, it’s time for the ceremony,” Dank said. “Don’t you want your sister to look fantabulous when she opens the dimensions and returns on a gale of cosmic wind to her home dimension?” “I am not a cross dresser, and no, I don’t give a damn what Glory looks like. She isn’t going anywhere.” He tucked the sarong tighter, hitched it over his manly thighs and approached the two Dawns. “Okay, which one of you is the Key?” The two Dawns folded their arms over their chests and tossed their heads in unison. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” they said. Ben grabbed the hair of the first Dawn, who punched him in the face. A black, Cadillac stretch limo arrived at the front of the spa. Manuel, the valet parker, who was hoping for some large tips, given the stormy weather and the noisy screams coming from the building, opened the back door and assisted an elderly man, with black eyes and a long, grey-green tail twitching out of his black wool duster, out of the car. Willow and Tara, after plucking three demon heads out of the reflecting pool, drew their magic circle around the pool using a red Sharpie. “This is perfect,” Willow said. “We can use the water to bounce the spell off and increase the power of the spell exponentially by at least a factor of twelve.” Tara looked doubtful. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” “What could go wrong?” Willow said. Tara opened her mouth to answer, then closed her mouth without saying anything and set up and lit candles at five points along the circle and drew a small pentagram around each candle. Willow tossed a handful of vercacesasium seeds into the pool and touched the red sharpie circle. “Propinquus Orbis.” The circle blazed into light.

Chapter #20 - As Seen on TV

DISCLAIMER: The characters and all that good stuff belong to Joss. No copyright infringement intended. ============================================== A lot of stuff happened last week, including a Pie Fight. Some people might think fighting demons with a cream pie is silly, but I say, Yeah! Yeah it is. Incredibly, I thought of some even sillier stuff this week. The Battle Continues ... ============================================== Thanks everyone who reviewed and everyone who read. Reviews are greatly appreciated. Thanks to nmcil who made this awesome banner. ============================================== Chapter 20 - As Seen on TV Spike punched Ben in the face and grabbed his own head, expecting a roaring headache, but was pleased to find Ben had disappeared mid punch and it was Glory who received a fist in the face. He grabbed the two Dawns by their hands and ran. “Give me back my Key, you lousy vampire,” Glory shrieked. Spike, spying the magic circle, shoved the two Dawns inside and placed himself between the girl and girl robot and Glory. He couldn’t go in the circle himself because a piercing ray of sun was blazing down through the red stone globe at the pinnacle of the solarium and filling the reflecting pool with blazing light. The rays were so bright even the reflections were causing his skin to tingle. “That’s close enough, Hell Trollop.” Buffy crept up behind Glory. She raised Caladcholg. “I can hear you,” Glory said. She turned and grabbed Buffy’s sword and screamed with pain as Caladcholg electrified and scorched her hand. “Slayer has a new toy.” She backhanded Buffy and knocked her across the room. Buffy dropped the sword. Buffy leaped up and rolled into a cartwheel, ending with a hard kick to Glory’s jaw. She punched her in the face – Bam! Bam! Bam! Right, left, right - Glory’s head snapped back and her neck cracked. Glory punched Buffy and blocked her next blow. She punched Buffy again and sent her into a spin. Buffy recovered, dropped to her hands. One foot flew up and caught Glory on the chin. Glory stumbled as Buffy rolled into a somersault and landed on her feet. Buffy hit faster, peppering blows all over Glory’s body. Glory swatted her arm toward Buffy’s face. Buffy ducked and kicked Glory in the knee, then the belly. Buffy caught Glory’s arm as she threw her next jab. The two grappled, each straining to knock the other off balance. Spike crawled to the sword. It seared his hand as he picked it up. He tossed it to Buffy and cried out her name. “Slayer! Catch!” Buffy reached out for her weapon. Spike’s throw went wide, but the sword leaped into her hand. Buffy spun around in a circle – once, twice, three times and swung Caladcholg in an explosion of colored lights and fire and hacked off Glory’s head. The sword erupted into a fireball of flame and burst into thousands of glittering sparks of metal. The sparks flew up into the air, burnt out as the sword vanished. When the fire died down, Glory picked her head off the floor, settled it back on her neck and jiggled it back into place. “You busted my magic sword!” Buffy said. Her lower lip stuck out. “I don’t like it when people bust my weapons.” She saw the troll hammer, abandoned on the floor near the steps into the spiral whirlpool. She punched Glory in the face with her fist and ran to grab the hammer. Glory rubbed her nose. “Ow, that hurt! You hurt me, you little Slayer Tramp. And, it wasn’t the first time, either. Minions!” “They aren’t coming,” Buffy said. “They’ve been whipped.” She lifted the hammer and whacked Glory on the head. Spike crept behind Glory, leaped on her back and slung his arm around her neck in a choke hold. Glory twirled and fought to shrug him off. Buffy slammed the troll hammer into Glory’s knees. Glory collapsed on the floor and Buffy drove the hammer into her body over and over. Just when Buffy thought Glory was licked, Glory sprang up and tossed Spike into the sunlight and the throbbing red rays of the red crystal. Buffybot wandered from room to room in the spa, looking for a place to wash the blueberry pie off her face some evil poonlarp had slung at her. She did not like having pie on her face. She came to a room painted in a soothing sandy beige color, with a bunch of small tables and little bottles of colored nail liquid in shades of red and pink and peach. Slook sat at one of the tables, reading last month’s copy of Starz Magazine. The front cover featured Sarah Michelle Gellar and Freddie Prinz, Jr. “May I give you a manicure? We have three new colors today – Peach Passion, Pink Perfection and Blood of the Innocents.” Buffybot examined her nails. “My nails are skanky looking from fighting Glory’s minions. I could use a manicure.” She sat down and let Slook place her right hand in the tiny glass dish of sudsy water to soak. Slook handed her the magazine. “There’s an excellent article about Sarah Michelle and her new husband. You can read it while you soak.” Buffybot studied the picture of the blonde girl. “Look at you. You’re pretty.” Giles, Xander, Willow and Tara stood at spots on the glowing red circle between the candles and began chanting. From Hell’s Dimension one has come. To Hell’s Dimension one should go. Who was here, be far away, Send this goddess home to stay. There’s no place like home. There’s no place like home. There’s no place like home. Spike landed in the pool with a loud splash. “Spike!” Buffy shouted. She leaped into the steaming pool and dragged Spike out of the sunlight. Then, she sloshed her way out, tackled Glory and dragged her kicking and struggling, and tossed her into the pool, which wasn’t easy because Glory was coated with slippery massage oil. Willow tossed Glory’s red garnet high heels that she’d stolen from Glory’s fabulous condo earlier that day into the pool. The circle flashed with red, hellish light. The pool of water steamed and boiled. The pool burst into fire when Glory landed in the water and the circle of energy exploded. KA-BOOM!!! The energy from the explosion threw the entire gang away from the center and blew out the remains of the glass roof. The surface of the pool crackled with cherry-red flames. Buffy, Spike, Xander, Giles and Tara flew out from the center and slammed against the walls. Only Willow remained conscious. Glory stood up and shook herself off. “Wow, Witch Girl. Got to say, that was fun. In fact, the last fun you’ll ever have.” “Okay, time for Plan B,” Willow said. As Glory stepped out of the pool, Willow flung a handful of Shapeshifter Miracle Sifting Dust (As Seen on TV) in a glittery arc over Glory. The glitter clung to Glory’s massage oily body. Warren, Jonathan and Andrew watched the fights, the pie throwing, the spells and the explosion with almost as much interest as they devoted to free cable porn. After the explosion, they lost interest. “Let’s get out of here,” Warren said. “Yeah,” Andrew said, “before Glorificus finds out you tried to palm off the Dawnbot as the Key.” “Not me, pal,” Warren said. “We.” “Like Glory is going to care,” Jonathan said. “She’ll step on all three of us like bugs. Say, where’s the Spikebot?” “Forget him,” Warren said. They tiptoed around the heap of poonlarps who were cemented into stiff shapes of squirming whip cream and stepped over Giles, who’d been knocked out by the blast. Xander came to as the Trio were sneaking out. He picked himself up off the tile floor where he’d been blown by the force of Willow’s spell backfire and grabbed Buffy’s patrol bag. He rooted around until he found his backup weapon. Using every last ounce of strength he possessed, he lifted a huge bottle of pressurized soda water and raised it up over Warren’s head. Warren cringed and held up his hands. “Wait a minute, pal. You’re one of the good guys, remember. You wouldn’t want to hit me on the head with that thing.” Xander’s muscles quivered with Post Pie Pitching Fatigue and he lowered the bottle. “You’re right. I wouldn’t want to do that. I’d want to do this.” He placed his finger on the bottle’s trigger and sprayed Warren in the face. SCHPRITZ! He hosed him for a straight minute until the bottle emptied. He tossed the bottle aside. “I might also want to do this.” He slapped Warren’s face. SMACK! “And, this,” he poked his fist into Warren’s belly. BUNG! “And, this,” he hooked his little finger into Warren’s left nostril and lifted him onto his toes. “WOO-WOO-WOO-WOO!” “And, This!” POW! He punched Warren in the jaw and sent him flying across the room. Andrew and Jonathan stood in stupefied wonder as Xander beat the crap out of Warren using all their favorite Stooges moves. When Warren went down for the count, they backed away. “We didn’t help. We had nothing to do with bringing Dawn here. It was all Warren’s idea,” Jonathan said in a screechy, whining voice. “Yeah,” Andrew said. He pointed his finger at Xander. “And, if you don’t leave us alone, I will place the Curse of the Flying Monkeys on you unto the End of Days.” “I thought the Flying Monkeys was Tucker,” Xander said. Andrew’s face turned purple and red and blue with rage and his hair stood straight up. He jumped up and down and stamped on the floor. “THAT WAS ME! I MADE THE FLYING MONKEYS!” “Oh, in that case, you won’t mind, if I do this,” Xander smacked his face, boinked his skull, pinched his nose and slammed his fist down on his own pinching fingers and held out his two fingers and jabbed Andrew in both eyes. SMACK BOINK BINK JAB. Andrew held his hand up flat between his eyes and prevented Xander from actually jabbing his eyes. “Hah! You forgot about that one, you big Shaboinkle!” Xander picked up the exhausted soda water bottle and cracked Andrew over the head. THUD! Andrew crumpled to the floor. “True, but I remembered that.” While Xander was demonstrating that his many hours watching the Stooges had not been wasted, Jonathan ran out the front door and hopped in the first vehicle brought up by the valet parking staff, a black, Cadillac stretch limo. “Bitch! What did you do to me?” As Glory yowled and scraped Shapeshifter Miracle Sifting Dust off her arms, she morphed into Ben. Ben looked down at his body which was encased in a pink towel sarong and coated with silver glitter. “Could be worse.” He looked up and saw the throbbing red light catcher. He looked around the room and saw the two Dawns. “Is it that time already?” He grabbed the nearest Dawn and pulled her out of the magic circle. He picked up a convenient sack of therapy stones and raised it over her head. “Really, sorry kid, but I have to take you out. Nothing personal, but I have to save the world. And, myself. The only way to do that is for you to die.” “I AM NOT A KID!” Dawn and Dawnbot yelled in unison. Ben morphed back into Glory. “Do you have to yell so loud? I can hear you.” She caught and dragged both Dawns into the center of the pool where a ray of sunlight filled the red center globe with blazing light. Doc peeped from behind a billowing cream, yellow and terracotta printed gauze curtain, and glanced at his watch. “My, my, things are not going well. We need to get started.” He waved his hand “Restituo!” and the thousands of glass shards that had once been the solarium ceiling reassembled in a cloud and swarmed up to their place, restored. The ruby stone glowed and pulsed with its own light. He snuck closer to the two Dawns who were wrestling with Glory. He flicked his forked tongue to catch smells and vibrations from the two girls. Yes, one was human. She would be the real Key. The other smelled faintly of three-in-one oil. Doc twitched his fingers and a band of undulating blue light surrounded the real Dawn and bound her arms to her sides. “Not in our party clothes, dear, but it will have to do. I don’t suppose you’d care to take all your clothes off? You know a nice nude ritual suits everybody.” Dawn spat at Doc. “Let me go before my sister kicks your ass.” Doc wiped the spit off his face with his finger and stuck his finger in his mouth. “Your sister will be busy for a few minutes while Glorificus kills her. I think we should get this show on the road, don’t you?” Dawn screamed and struggled but couldn’t break loose. Only seconds remained before the sun would be in position to fully flare up the red stone and open the dimensions. Doc shoved her under the red rays where she froze into place and couldn’t move. Doc began the chant: Aigz eund spaumm aigz bekon eund spaumm aigz bekon sauzidge eund spaumm sauzidge bekon sauzidge eund spaumm spaumm aigz spaumm spaumm bekon eund spaumm spaumm spaumm aigz eund spaumm spaumm spaumm spaumm spaumm baak-ed beenz spaumm spaumm spaumm spaumm eund spaumm lubstur thurmdor crayvetz eund murniaze sauz gornischt wit trooflet brundi friet aig eund spaumm Xander shook Giles to wake him up. Aigz eund spaumm, aigz bekon eund spaumm The sound of Doc’s chant swelled and echoed across the reflecting pool. Giles sat up and rubbed his head. “I’ve heard that somewhere before.” Xander slapped Giles on the chest. “That grandpa looking guy with the demon tail is starting the ritual.” “Doc? Pillock borrowed a book from me and didn’t bring it back. I’ll just have to see about this.” Giles broke open a nearby fire box and wrenched out the axe. “You couldn’t just charge him a fine?” While Xander had been delivering some mighty blows to Warren and Andrew, Spikebot wandered through the spa. He was looking for Buffy so she could continue her lessons in the finer points of being a good lay. He found her in the hairdryer room, with a giant hard, plastic helmet over her head. She was sitting next to an older woman, who was also sitting under a hard, plastic helmet. The two were chatting. They both had their hair pinned up in weird pink cylinders. Buffybot held out her magazine. “Look, here’s Sarah Michelle and Freddie surfing. Aren’t they the cutest?” Doris examined the photograph. “They’re darling.” Could it be possible the Slayer didn’t recognize her? And, why was the Slayer having her hair and nails done when Glory was about to rip apart the dimensions? Her first assessment had been correct. Buffy Summers was entirely too stupid to be her sister’s guardian. That is, if her sister hadn’t been the Key and destined for greater things than Sunnydale High School. Spikebot lifted the hard plastic dome over Buffybot’s head. “Hello, Buffy. I am ready to resume our lessons.” Buffybot pulled the curlers out of her hair and stood up. Slook hurried over and brushed, combed and sprayed Buffybot’s hair into a crown of blonde, waving glory. Buffybot thanked Slook and asked her to return to her place at the table with the tiny bottles of Peach Passion. “I hope we won’t be interrupted this time. Assume the position.” Spikebot held out his arms and Buffybot nestled into his leather coat. Spikebot placed his kissing instructions in Random Access Memory. Their lips touched and they melted together. Glory slugged Buffy’s face and kicked her across the room. Buffy slammed against the wall and crunched a large Buffy-shaped hole in the drywall. She dropped to the floor next to her troll hammer. She picked it up. “Getting tired, girlfriend?” Glory said. “Cause I am. It’s time for the ritual.” Buffy walked back to her enemy and popped her in the face with the hammer. She pounded Glory with the troll hammer once more, but it seemed to have little effect. Buffy banged her again and again. “There – Isn’t – Going – To – Be – A – Ritual.” The handle on the hammer broke. The hammer dropped and tore a hole in the floor and disappeared into a bottomless black crevice. “Darn,” Buffy said. Spike staggered up from his place on the floor and shook his head to clear his thoughts. He heard Doc’s voice intoning the ritual - spaumm spaumm spaumm spaumm - there were only a few seconds to go. If he could just keep Glory out of the red shaft of light and away from Dawn, he could probably prevent the dimensions from opening until it was too late. Glory tossed Buffy across the room and knocked her out. “She was really getting to be a pest. Now, Sweet Cheeks, let’s get on with that ritual.” Glory picked up both of the Dawns and turned to enter the blazing shaft of red light slicing into the pool. Spike tiptoed behind Glory and leaped on her back just before she stepped into the sunlight. He got her neck into a choke hold. “Drop the Dawns, Bint.” Glory twisted forward and slung Spike directly into the sun-filled circle as a fierce red ray flamed up the entire pool. Buffy woke up in time to see Spike sail into the brilliant sun light of the magic circle. His coat smoldered then flamed up in a terrifying way. “Spike!” She ran. Spike landed in the pool with a splash, which put out the flames on his coat, but did nothing for his skin which started to smoke. Then, he remembered. He pulled his almost empty can of sun block spray out of his coat pocket and swished it on his hands and face and hair and then his clothes. Glory jumped into the pool and raised her fist. “You are starting to get on my nerves.” Spike sprayed the sun block in Glory’s face as the dimensions swirled open.

Chapter #21 - The Apocalypse Can Wait

DISCLAIMER: All belongs to Joss. If only he'd let me have Spike for a night or two. =========================================== Last week on WWHH? we found out what Monty Python was Really up to. *** Buffybot got a combout and checked out some cool magazines. *** Slook decided on a new career. *** Spike nearly got scorched, but Buffy saved him, and he introduced Glory to a new skin care product. =========================================== Reviews are greatly appreciated! Feed the writer, please. =========================================== Chapter 21 – The Apocalypse Can Wait Buffybot peeked out of the linen closet where she and Spikebot had resumed their Love Lessons and looked both ways. Nobody in the hall. “I’d better go. There’s an apocalypse to prevent. Real Buffy may need my help.” Spikebot put his arm around Buffybot’s neck and stole another kiss. “The apocalypse can wait. I want you to show me the next nine positions.” “You’re a very fast learner, but we should try Number Eight again first.” Spikebot pulled her back into the linen closet and slammed the door shut. Overhead a blue ring of energy crackled and expanded, opening the first ring of dimensions. Spike’s sun block spritzed onto Glory’s face. The sun block turned to goo and dripped off Glory’s chin. She wiped the sun block off her face and looked at her goo-coated hands. She wiped her hands on her dress, but the goo stuck. “What have you done, stupid vampire? I’m all gooey. I can’t go home looking this way.” She looked again at her hands. The flesh on her fingers was melting and dripping away. “I’m Melting!” “Buffy!” Giles yelled. “The dimensions have opened!” “What can I do? I fight with weapons,” Buffy said. “Willow! Tara! Do something!” She waved around one of the cheap swords she’d given to the others before the fight began. Xander took the sword out of Buffy’s hand, walked to the spot where Doc stood and chanted the ritual spell. He hacked off Doc’s tail and pitched it into the reflecting pool. The tail passed through the fiery shaft of red light and the blue ring of energy vibrated and rotated faster. A small dragon shot through the rings as they separated. “Damn,” Buffy said. “I need my sword.” “Hold out your hand and call for it,” Giles yelled as he dodged the flames gouting out of the dragon’s mouth. Buffy held out her strong right arm, palm extended. “CALADCHOLG!” she screamed. The air around her hand sparkled and fizzed and with a flash of blinding white light, the sword leaped into her hand – whole and beautiful and shining. “Spike! Give me a boost!” She ran and leaped into Spike’s arms. Using her momentum, he tossed her up into the fiery rings. She thrust her sword through the rings and the dimensions banged closed. She fell back into the reflecting pool with a huge splash. Spike pulled her out of the water, lifted her up and whirled her around. Buffy held out her sword and slashed a couple more columns, bringing down the entire back half of the building in a spray of rainbow arcs. “We did it!” they said together. Buffy found it necessary to give Spike a very sloppy congratulatory kiss while the rest of the gang assembled in a circle and watched Glory liquefy into a large, pinkish puddle. Buffy didn’t notice when she dropped Caladcholg into the water where it sizzled and faded away. Buffybot banged open the linen closet door and collapsed against it. Her hair was snarled in wild disarray, her lipstick was smeared and her capacitance, temperature and frequency ranges had all exceeded their maximum tolerance points. She stumbled out into the hall, walking with a spraddle. Spikebot came out of the closet, zipped up his black jeans and shrugged on his leather coat. “Do you have to leave so soon?” “I think my High Isolation Voltage has overloaded. I must seek Willow.” He put his hand on the back of her neck and looked deep into her Optically Coupled Isolators. “Can I see you again?” “We could meet later at the Magic Box.” She tried resetting her microprocessors, but the Logic Compatible Output Sinks appeared to have scorched. Spikebot hitched up his pants and gave Buffybot a swift goodbye kiss. “Later, then.” Buffybot waved her fingers in a feeble way. “Much later.” Before she had had time to pull up her To Do list and put a large checkmark beside Have Sex with Spike, a warning buzzer sounded in her brain. “Evil – Evil – Evil.” “Oh! I must Kill Evil as Needed.” She rushed towards the crash and splash of fighting. When she arrived in the whirlpool room, Buffybot looked around for Evil. The gang was standing around a puddle of pink glop. All the poonlarps were frozen into a glob of pie gunk, Glory was nowhere to be seen and a loose demon tail floated in a pool of water. The two Dawns were wet, Tara and Willow were sucking each other’s faces. Xander was licking pie off his fingers. Guy-iles was leaning on a red axe. Then, she saw Spike, with his arm around Real Buffy, sloshing his way out of a big pool of water. They stopped to have a kiss with tongues and no wall slamming. Her brain whirred. “Spike is Evil. It’s my duty to kill Evil. It’s my duty to be nice to Spike. It’s my duty to kill -- It’s my duty to be nice --. It’s my duty -- It’s my duty -- ” The previous stress on her many robotic parts and the logical conundrum of killing and being nice to Spike at the same time locked down her brain. “I must kill. I must kill. I must kill.” She took a stake out of the back of her skirt and raised it over her head and dashed towards Spike. *** Buffy kissed Spike again. Her eyes glittered with tears. “Thanks for saving my sister.” While they were gazing in each others eyes, and Spike was trying to think of something clever to say, or at least something that wouldn’t break the mood and result in a Buffy black eye, the Buffybot tapped Buffy on the shoulder. “Pardon me, Real Buffy. I must kill Evil.” She raised the stake above her head and plunged it to Spike’s chest. Doris finished getting her comb out from Slook and headed to the whirlpool room where the big ceremony was taking place. She wanted to look her best for the big day. When she arrived, she saw Two Buffies, Two Dawns, a puddle of bubblegum pink goop and Doc’s tail floating in the reflecting pool. She returned to the locker room for her large orange plastic purse and let herself out the back door. Buffy grabbed the stake in mid arc and snatched it out of Buffybot’s hand. “What do you think you’re doing? You can’t kill Spike.” “I must kill Spike,” Buffybot said. “He is Evil. And, tricky.” “He’s officially not Evil any more. He didn’t rat out Dawn. He made a Dawnbot to fool Glory and he killed Glory with the icky spray stuff he got from Warren. He saved the day. He is tricky.” Spike pulled a horrified face. “Wait one bleeding minute, Slayer. I am too Evil. I’m the Big Bad and don’t you forget it.” Buffybot grabbed for her stake, but Buffy tucked it into the back of her skin tight jeans. “Maybe you should Ixnay on the Evilay until Robokiller By Popeil here gets her brain unscrambled. Go see Willow, Buffybot.” Buffybot shambled off, tripping over her own feet more than once to stand by Willow. Spike shuffled his boot on the floor and looked embarrassed. “Buffy, about me pretending to be the Spikebot. I shouldn’t have pretended --.” Buffy clapped her hand over his mouth. She saw the group staring at them and listening to every word. “If you say one more word, I’ll flame you out myself.” She lifted her hand and pulled him aside. “You knew? I mean that it was me, all the time and you still --.” Buffy considered whether she should admit Spike had completely taken her in with the Spikebot ruse. She decided she didn’t want him to have the upper hand, even if she was in a forgiving mood. “Of course I knew. There’s a mirror in the bathroom.” “So you knew and you still had sex with me?” Spike broke into a big smile. “What do you say we get out of here and go have a quick --.” “Coffee,” Buffy said. “We can have a quick coffee.”

Chapter #22 - Somebody Who

All fun things must end and this is the final chapter of WWHH? Thanks to everyone who read and reviewied and special thanks to whoever nominated for Best Fluffy Spuffy and Best Romance at Spuffy Awards and Spark and Burn Awards! ============================================== The characters still belong to Devil Joss. ============================================== Last week Glory was defeated, Doris ran off without paying for her shampoo and set, Buffybot got confused, Spikebot got laid, Spike got forgiven and Doc lost his tail. ============================================== Chapter 22 - Somebody Who Buffybot perched on the steps leading up to the Balcony of Bad Books at the Magic Box where the group had returned to celebrate victory with mocha lattes and stale jelly donuts. She flipped through the pages of Anya’s Brides! Brides! Brides! magazine. There were many pages of pretty girls in white dresses. “Rock!” Dawn and Dawnbot yelled in unison. “Paper!” Dawn and Dawnbot played rock-paper-scissors for the 198th time. When they both pulled the same hand signal for the 200th time, Buffybot got bored and turned to stare at Spike. He looked so happy as he sat next to Buffy – the Real Buffy – and talked to her in a low voice. He looked even happier when Real Buffy stuck her hand in the back pocket of his jeans. Buffybot felt sad. She loved Spike and Spike loved Real Buffy. Her thermal actuator hurt a lot and both of her eyes leaked. Willow came down from the balcony holding a fat, black book behind her back and sat down next to Buffybot. “Hey Bee-Bot. Why so glum? We rescued Spike, got rid of the bad guy and saved the day. And, we’ve got a big old demon tail to stuff and mount over the cash register to discourage bad check writers.” “I know. That is very happy news. Especially the rescuing Spike part.” “So, why with the sad?” Spike pinched Buffy on the butt under the table where the rest of the gang couldn’t see what he was up to, but Buffybot could see very easily. Buffybot sighed. “Spike doesn’t love me. He loves the Really Real Buffy.” “He loves you, too. What makes you think he doesn’t love you?” “For one thing, you are wearing your Sympathy And Lying Face. And, another, I see the way Spike looks at her – Other Buffy, I mean. And, Other Buffy appears to be fixated on Spike, too.” Willow looked over at the couple as Spike leaned forward to whisper in Buffy’s ear. Buffy blushed and slapped his hand playfully. “Guess you’re right.” “What should I do? I love Spike and Buffy loves Spike and Spike loves Buffy.” She didn’t have to mention that no one loved her, the Buffybot. “Would you like me to fix you? So you don’t love Spike anymore?” That didn’t sound like a good idea. If Willow took out the part that loved Spike, there would be a big empty spot. “If you fix me, I wouldn’t have anybody to love.” “You could find somebody new. Somebody who would love you like crazy. The way I love Tara.” “Oh.” She wanted to love somebody like crazy, but she’d always loved Spike. She didn’t know if she could love another somebody or if she even wanted to. Still, if Spike didn’t love her back, what could she do? “Can I think about it?” “Sure. Just let me know.” Watching Spike and Buffy together was too damaging to her thermal actuator so Buffybot slipped into the training room. To her surprise, she found another Spike. She looked back in the main room of the shop. Spike was sitting next to Buffy. She looked into the training room. Spike was punching the big grey bag. She didn’t think Spike could be in two places at once, even if he was sinister and hot. “Look at you,” she said to Training Room Spike. “Hey, Buffy,” Spikebot said. “Look at you. Are you ready to show me Positions 19 through 28?” “Maybe only 19 through 21, until Willow replaces some of my parts. Are you in love with Buffy? The Other Buffy, I mean.” “I don’t think so. Is there another Buffy?” “Yes. I thought I was the real Buffy, but the only really real Buffy is really Buffy and I’m not exactly her.” “You’re still a Buffy. Could I be in love with you?” “I think you can. It would not conflict with your programming would it?” Spikebot reviewed his programming. “You are already in my Friends of Spike folder. I think I can upgrade you to my True Love Folder, if you like.” Buffybot put her arms around Spikebot’s waist and placed her head next to his thermal actuator. “I would like to be upgraded very much.” Lydia Chalmers carried a long, cardboard box into Quentin Travers private office. “Package for you, sir.” She placed the box on his desk. “Back so soon?” He opened the box. Inside the box Caladcholg lay sheathed in its silver scabbard. He drew the sword out of is scabbard and examined it. A beautiful sword. On the tempered steel blade was inscribed with drawings of a woman fighting a Hellgod. He returned the sword to its scabbard and closed the box. “Return it to the safe, Ms. Chalmers. Until the next time.” She placed the package in Travers’s personal safe behind a portrait of Queen Victoria, closed the door and spun the combination lock. In the dark of the safe, Caladcholg flickered tiny rainbow arcs and waited. The End