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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.
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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/
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Disclaimer: The characters, the plot, the setting, the residuals - all belong to Joss and no copyright infringement is intended.
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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.”