Kind of a Gay Thing

The Visitor and The Buffybot Adventures Present:
Season Two - Episode Twelve

KIND OF A GAY THING

“The purpose of a man is to love a woman
and the purpose of a woman is to love a man.
So come on baby, let’s start to-day,
come on baby let’s play
The game of love”
The words sing out from a lone voice over a microphone, resonating across a spacious room from a small stage. From his perch on a tall stool, Lorne takes a sip of his seabreeze and pulls the mike from it’s stand, and stares out into the crowd.
“Pretty simple rules, right?” Waiting a moment for a reply that never comes, Lorne raises his eyebrows playfully, stagelight shining briefly off his crimson horns.
“Well, maybe in theory. But while it makes for a fine tune to croon to the moon up above, the game of love has never been that simple, ladies and gents, and don’t we all know it. Especially here in the capitol of sexual dysfunction that is LA. And hey, LA proper is bad enough...fictional LA is even worse. But fanfictional LA? Sheesh. Don’t get me started.”
Taking a moment, Lorne glances away from the audience and stares you right in the eyes. “That’s right, kids, there are no secrets from Uncle Lorne. But don’t worry, we’re all amigos here. Hey, I’ve been known to indulge myself on some long, lonely nights at the club. I used to write a mean Willow/Angel drabble...and gosh, wouldn’t they just make the cutest couple? Let’s hear it!”
Bobbing his head, Lorne leads a soft round of applause around the room. He seems momentarily pleased, taking another drink.
“Of course, that’s just the vanilla tip of a particularly naughty literary iceberg, isn’t it? Things tend to get pretty diverse pdq around this old internet. Heck, just last night I read a Xander/Spike piece that had steam coming out of ALL the right places.”
A round of hoots and hollers echo forward, and Lorne grins a sly grin.
“Ah yes...’slash’. Not too fond of the term, myself...reminds me too much of Europeans going potty. But hey, I’m all about the sentiment. Although, as we’ll see from tonight’s tale of hormonal horror, it ain’t always a picnic for the poor saps on the receiving end.”
Setting his drink down on a small stand, Lorne pulls the mike further from the stand and steps off his stool. A small spotlight tracks his movements across the stage as he walks.
“It all started with a very sweet girl who, like so many of us, wasn’t sure where she belonged. And, more to the point, who she belonged with. Who among us hasn’t been there?”
Sympathetic murmurs rolled around the audience. “Right. But, like most of the misadventures out little Miss Adventures gets herself into, this one was destined to get more out of control than Tom Cruise declaring his love for Katie Holmes. Speaking of which, anyone got an egg timer I could borrow?”
Warm laughter fills the air, and Lorne smiles graciously.
“But seriously folks...it’s about time to get this show on the road. And how does this particular epic of amour fou begin, you ask? With what are, to my thinking, two most singularly appropriate words.”

“Exterminate! Exterminate!!”
Buffybot raised her arms in attempted menace, chasing Fred down the stairs of the Hyperion and into the lobby, where the dark haired girl nearly collapsed into a giggling fit. Wesley emerged briefly from his office to throw an amused stare in both ladies’ direction.
“You’re not supposed to laugh, Fred,” Buffybot chastised earnestly upon reaching her playmate, “...I’m an evil Dalek bent on universal domination!”
Fred struggled to get herself under control, taking gulps of air. “I know, I know, it’s just...you’re so earnest! And you’ve got the big smile and everything, and I’m sorry, but I just ain’t getting that sense of impending destruction by a ruthless alien conqueror.”
Buffybot pondered that. “Maybe if I frowned?” Hopeful, Buffybot put a dastardly scowl on her face, jutting her chin forward, and Fred regarded her with doubt.
“I dunno,” she admitted, sizing Botty’s new look up, “...that just sorta makes you...cute.”
Immediately, Buffybot’s frown faded, and her face softened in surprise. “You think I’m cute..?”
“Maybe you’re more of a Cyberman,” Fred hypothesized, carrying right on, “...try saying ‘All your base are belong to us!’”
A sour look sprang up on Buffybot. “That’s terrible grammar.”
Fred smiled. “Well, duh! That’s why they’re the bad guys!”
“Sorry to interrupt,”
Fred and Buffybot both turned at Wesley’s voice, carrying from across the lobby. He stared over, a batch of files in his hands.
“Fred? A moment?”
“Oh, sure Wes!” Fred nodded, then turned quickly back to Buffybot. “Duty calls.”
Buffybot just smiled and nodded, and Fred strolled over towards Wesley. Botty could hear another set of footsteps approaching from the staircase as she ran a few things through her processors.
“Buffybot,” Angel said, reaching the base of the stairs. “How are you?”
Buffybot spun about, quizzical. “All your base are belong to us,” she repeated, “...that doesn’t make much sense, does it?”
Angel blinked a few times, suddenly baffled. “Uhh..no, I don’t think...whose base?”
That made Buffybot think. “I’m not sure...”
“Never mind,” Angel said, shaking his head clear, “...I just wanted...are you all right?”
Snapping to attention, Buffybot looked back up at Angel. “Of course!”
“Good! Good, it’s just...I was thinking that...after what happened the other day, with that ‘Collector’ character, and...”
Angel stammered a little, which Buffybot found awfully charming, before continuing. “I just wanted to make sure you were all right, and...look, I just did what I thought I had to, and I’m sorry if...”
“I’m all right, Angel...thank you.” Buffybot recalled briefly the events to which Angel was referring, when he had destroyed the microscopic demon tribe called the Parhak. “You were right...it was too dangerous to leave them in such dastardly hands. I just...”
Buffybot paused, rethinking her words. “Thank you. It’s very sweet of you to fret.”
Angel smiled. “I have plenty of fret to go around.” Glancing over Botty’s shoulder, he caught sight of Fred and Wesley. “Listen, I have to work something out with Wesley today...can we talk later on?”
Buffybot’s eyes widened. “Talk? You? With me?”
“Yeah,” he replied, “...I mean, if you aren’t busy.”
“Whenever you want, Angel!” Buffybot’s smile entrenched itself more and more. “I’m here to help!”
Nodding briefly, Angel left Buffybot and walked over towards Fred and Wesley, leaving the robot to a myriad of surprised thoughts. Angel had never wanted to talk to her before...and here she’d thought he didn’t like her.
Although, now that she checked her files properly, he HAD said he had faith in her a few days earlier. And now he was apologizing to her, and wanting to talk to her and everything! How wonderful!
Taking a step back from her position, Buffybot watched Angel as he consulted with Wesley, taking pains to disable both her extra-sensitive hearing and lip-reading functions for privacy’s sake. For a moment, she couldn’t help thinking about her former attempt to engage in a romantic relationship with Angel. It hadn’t worked very well at all, she recalled. But things seemed to be going so much better now...and he WAS a hottie, she was 95% certain. It was...strange. Perhaps she could discuss these new changes with Doyle when she was alone.
Tracking Angel, Botty watched as he walked around Fred, who noticed Buffybot’s stare and flashed her a quick smile and wave. Buffybot immediately felt a surge in her emotion control locus, and had to reroute momentarily in order to enact a return wave of her own. She felt a little silly, and didn’t understand where the trouble had come from. Why would she experience an emotional surge just because Fred smiled and...
Buffybot’s jaw dropped wide as a conclusion came in from her logic processors. It took the little robot very much by surprise, and she ran it through a battery of deconstruction engines, searching for some other answer. And although she received a few, none of them seemed very likely. But this was...
This was not something Buffybot had expected.

“Certainly, Angel. I’ve got some free time this afternoon...it’s really past time we got around to this.”
“You’re right,” Angel agreed, smiling softly, “...Fred? I assume you’re on board?”
“Absitively posilutely!” Fred chirped exuberantly. “I think it’s great!”
“Just don’t say anything yet,” Angel warned, “...at least until we get the paperwork all sorted. Maybe you could keep her busy while we...”
Angel glanced briefly in Buffybot’s direction, only to catch a fleeting glimpse of her darting up the top of the stairs and down the hall at top speed. He chuckled briefly in surprise.
“Huh. Never mind, then.”

“A whole demon tribe? Like, living inside of her?”
Buffybot nodded at Doyle’s summation of the story she’d been telling him, catching him up on her activities since she’d seen him last. He looked impressed.
“Wow. I take one break and miss all the good stuff. You never cease to amaze, doll.”
Smiling Buffybot took a seat on the edge of her bed, folding her arms in her lap. She sent a fresh burst of power to her courage-circuitry. “There’s something else,” she started awkwardly, “...I wanted to ask your advice on something.”
From his ghostly standpoint, Doyle’s face lit up. “Now that’s more like it! Fire away, my darlin’, I’m here to protect and serve. How can I help?”
Buffybot smiled. “Well, you remember when I tried to engage Angel in a romantic relationship, right?”
Doyle’s enthusiasm started to fade almost at once. “Oh yeah...epic catastrophes like that tend to stick in my head, actually. Why?”
“There’s no need for melodrama, Mister Doyle,” Buffybot chided, before continuing, “...but besides, things are changing. Angel seems to like me a lot more now, and he said he had faith in me? And today he was being very sweet and he wants to see me later, so part of me was thinking, ‘Gosh! Angel wants to see me later! Whatever for?’ And then I started thinking that maybe, even though things went so badly before, maybe they wouldn’t go as badly now. To the possibility of romantic entanglement, that is. Does that make sense?”
Taking a moment, Doyle eyed Buffybot with caution. “I’m tryin’ to come up with a sensitive, understanding way of saying ‘Are you outta your finely tuned mind??’, but nothing’s coming.”
“But that’s the thing,” Buffybot continued, “...it’s all gotten confusing now!”
“NOW it’s confusing?” Doyle scratched his head. “I must be ahead of my time, then. Dare I even ask..?”
“It’s just that, while I was thinking about Angel today, I saw Fred, and she waved and smiled, and I got this terrible flutter in my emotion control nodules, and when I checked, it corresponded to several other surges I’ve experienced while interacting with Fred over the last few days, and my logic processors are saying that I must have a crush on Fred, and that doesn’t make any sense, does it?”
A look of mild dread passed over Doyle. “A...crush,” he repeated softly. Buffybot nodded with vigour.
“On Fred.”
“Mmm-hmm,” Buffybot replied. Doyle drew a breath.
“No chance this is some, new, male Fred you’ve met since last time I saw you..?”
“No,” Buffybot answered, “...regular girl Fred. Which really surprised me, because I’d always presumed that, since I was initially programmed to be Spike’s girlfriend, and I was a girl, that meant I would like boys. Except after my experience observing Fred today, I rechecked my system protocols, and discovered that I don’t actually have ANY program dictating a specific sexual preference! And then I recalled that I had extensive reprogramming by Willow, who liked Tara who was a girl also, and then I didn’t know WHAT to think and I started to have a resource shortage in my analytical drives.”
“Yeah,” Doyle nodded with sympathy, “...I feel one comin’ on myself.”
“I’m just very confused now,” Buffybot admitted, looking up plaintively at Doyle. “Is there any way you could help me? To tell?”
Doyle shook his head warily. “To tell...what?”
Buffybot stared back with wide eyes. “If I’m gay.”

“Ouch.”
A low hush passes over the crowd while Lorne takes a long sip of his seabreeze. He finishes and grins knowingly.
“Now kids, I don’t mind saying, as a fellow ‘connection to the Powers’ and all that jazz..? I don’t envy that little Irish fella one bit right now. Heck, someone asked yours truly that bombshell, I’d be out the door and running for the nearest bar before you could say ‘But I’m a Cheerleader’. And if I know our man Doyle, he’s deeply regretting the lack of that option. Well, we’ll all drink a round for him, won’t we?”
A raucous cheer goes up, Lorne soaking in the good vibrations. “Hey, at least some of us are getting their happy on tonight,” he declared, “...but before we get carried away, literally or figuratively, let’s not forget our heroine, who’s still just trying to figure out the basics.
“Of course, it turns out they’re not so ‘basic’ after all, huh pilgrims?”

The question hung in the air, and Doyle fought off a moment of panic as he struggled to find some useful nugget of worldly wisdom for his charge. As he expected, he failed miserably.
“Buffybot, I’m sorry, but...hey, you’re blowing WAY past my area of expertise here. I mean, I wanna help you, I really do. But outside of a few extremely tasteful art films I’ve seen on the subject, I don’t really know a hell of a lot about...that.”
“But there must be some way!” Buffybot protested, “...it’s not fair to be getting all confused like this now. I mean, back when I was with Spike, I knew that I was ‘straight’, because I was with Spike! But it didn’t matter, because I didn’t have proper emotions and couldn’t fall in love or anything like that. Now that I DO have emotions, that don’t seem to be good for much OTHER than falling in love, I’m all confused and don’t know who to fall in love with! That doesn’t seem fair, does it?”
“Whoa! Pull the chute, kid...love? Who said anything about love??”
Buffybot looked a little surprised at Doyle’s outburst. “But that’s what it is, isn’t it? When you’re interested in someone romantically? Love?”
“Not always,” Doyle offered, trying to at least do some damage control, “...I mean, there’s shades, aren’t there? There’s like, and there’s LIKE-like...there’s ‘fun, but you don’t introduce her to your parents’...”
“I’m sure there must be a way to figure it out,” Buffybot muttered, trying to think it all out logically. Like a good robot! She started performing an intensive search of her EMD, looking for any relative references that might help her...
Bingo! An item was flagged and targeted within nanoseconds, giving Buffybot a huge smile. She’d have this whole ‘Love’ thing cracked in no time.
Accessing relevant file...

MEMORY FILE 6661210301324/rr1.emd
SUMMERS HOUSEHOLD/MAIN BEDROOM
FRIEND PRESENT: TARA MACLAY
JULY 17 2001 1435 EST
“Think that’s about it. Thanks so much, Botty.”
Buffybot smiled delightedly at Tara’s gratitude as she made a last few wipes of Willow and Tara’s mirror. “It was my pleasure, Tara! A clean room is a happy room!”
Tara plopped down on the side of the freshly made bed. “It’s just, we’ve all been so busy these days...helping Mister Giles run the store, watching Dawn, keeping the patrolling up, now trying to find this Ramsay guy...you start to neglect the housecleaning pretty quick, I guess.”
“I’ll start a sub-program to help me keep up on it, Tara,” Buffybot declared, doing just that, “...no chores are going to get away from ME!”
“Attagirl,” Tara said with a tired smile. She gave the room a look over. “Willow’ll be happy, I hope.”
“Willow,” Buffybot repeated, “...you and Willow are in love!”
A mild blush covered Tara’s cheeks. “Uhh...yeah. We are.”
“That’s so sweet,” Botty added happily, “...is being in love with a girl the same as being in love with a boy? Except that it’s a girl? Which I suppose means it’s NOT the same...are you programmed to be in love with Willow?”
“One at a time!” Tara giggled in embarrassment, shaking her head. “No...no Willow-love program.”
“Hmm.” Buffybot tried to think about that, recalling the specific programs that had made her be Spike’s girlfriend. “I’m not sure I understand,” she admitted, “...how did you decide to be in love with her, then?”
“I didn’t really ‘decide’, exactly...it just sort of happened. Naturally, you know?”
“Naturally,” Buffybot pondered, checking her files, “...like photosynthesis?”
Tara smirked. “Maybe not that naturally. I just mean...it happened over time, after we met. There was always something special about her...the way she smiled, her courage...she was so beautiful. It was just...magic.”
Monitoring Tara’s increased heartrate as she described these events, Buffybot became more and more intrigued. “Love is a form of magic, you mean? Is that why you and Willow are together? Because you’re both witches?”
“Maybe...I don’t really know about that. But I guess love IS like magic. It’s a pretty analogy, anyways.”
Buffybot entered that into her files, smiling wide. “I hope I get to fall in love someday. It sounds like terrific fun!”
“It kinda is,” Tara said, standing, “...and I hope you do, too. Really.”
“But I don’t know any magic,” Botty suddenly realized, “...would I need to learn first?”
“I wouldn’t worry about it,” Tara confided with a smile, “...magic like that? It happens all the time.”

“Love is like magic!”
Snapping to attention, Buffybot nearly shocked Doyle off his feet with her sudden declaration.
“What’s that then?”
“That’s how I’ll figure it out,” Buffybot extrapolated, making all sorts of excited plans in her software hubs, “...with magic! That’s what love IS, after all. It’s so simple!”

“Now, I know what you’re thinking,” Lorne tells you, raising a concerned eyebrow, “...using magic as a shortcut to personal happiness ALWAYS ends badly in these situations. That’s what you were thinking, right?”
Waiting a moment, Lorne lets his shoulders droop, a resigned smile crossing his lips.
“You ain’t wrong.”

“I’m gettin’ the heebie-jeebies just TRYING to imagine what you’re thinkin’ doll. Can we back this up a little? What’s all this magic talk?”
“Tara told me,” she explained, “...love is a kind of magic. So to find out who I’m supposed to be in love with, surely there must be some spell that will tell me! That makes sense, right?”
“There you go, abusing that word again. Trust me, doll, you gotta stop tryin’ to force things like this. Just having emotions doesn’t necessarily make you ready for love right away. I have MORE than enough experience with bad relationships to say you can take my word for that.”
For a moment, Buffybot allowed herself to do just what Doyle was suggesting, and ease off on her sudden plans. Maybe he did have a point...she really didn’t have much experience with emotions, not like he did. And besides...she didn’t know any magic, and didn’t really know anyone who did. She couldn’t contact Willow or Tara anymore, that was for sure.
And who else did she know who practiced magic? Much less magic that specialized in love or...
Another file got flagged and brought to Buffybot’s attention, drawn by a second-tier search for any combinations of magic/spellcasting with love/human sexuality. Doyle looked at her with unease as a wide-eyed look came over her.
“Sex magic,” Buffybot whispered, turning suddenly to Doyle. He looked confused...but only for a moment.
“What..?” Before he could get another word out, it hit him, and Doyle could see in his mind’s eye the event that Buffybot’s file was alerting her to. His face fell in sudden horror.
“Oh, don’t even think about it...”
She, of course, already was.
A few minutes later, Fred was knocking on Buffybot’s door. “Hey, Buffybot? I was thinking...Angel said you really liked that museum when you were walkin’ through, I thought maybe you and I could go check out some of the other ones in town. I never really did much sightseeing in LA, first time around. How does that sound?”
Where there was no answer, Fred leaned up against the door, her fingers wrapping quietly around the knob.
“Buffybot? You in there?”
Slowly, Fred tried the knob, which turned easily. She pushed the door gently open and peered inside, seeing only an empty room, a few scant possessions, and an open window.
Perplexed, Fred tried to remember if she’d heard the robot leaving. She didn’t think so.
“Botty?”

Across town, a door buzzer started ringing in a well-kept apartment. The sole occupant, a red silk kimono draped over her body, set down the book she was reading and started heading towards the door, a little annoyed. The buzzer rang again.
“Coming! Madre de Dios, keep your shirt on.”
Hurrying, Verity depressed a button on her wall unit, opening the downstairs door. She almost never bothered with the intercom...ruined those wonderful spontaneous moments, she figured. One of which she was about to experience.
Opening the door, Verity waited for her caller, tightening the sash on her kimono. It was only a few seconds before a blond girl arrived on her floor, making her way to Verity’s apartment. Another second passed before she recognized her.
Buffybot arrived and stopped smartly at the threshold to Verity’s apartment, which scanned every bit as pretty as the last time she had been here under Doyle’s possessing guidance. She hoped her little visit would be welcomed, despite not really having been herself the last time she’d dropped by.
“Hello!” she announced, adding an appropriately chirpy smile. “It’s me, Joan! Do you remember me?”
Verity took Buffybot’s appearance in slowly, almost incredulous. “Riiight...listen, I don’t mean to hurt your feelings, but...well, the mood? It’s kind of passed by now.”
Buffybot laughed, partially relieved that the bartender remembered her. She wasn’t certain if the mind-wipe that had cleared the memories of Angel and the others of Doyle’s visit would have extended to her or not.. “You’re very funny. And I’m very sorry about the last time we met, I...wasn’t myself. Could I come in?”
Verity looked like a headache was coming on. “Joan...I’m sorry, this is kind of a surprise...was there...what do you want?”
“I need to ask a favour,” Buffybot replied, bracing her nerve nodules and forging ahead, “...magic help. You do magic, right?”
That caught Verity unawares. She gave Buffybot a lopsided look, intrigued. “I do,” she admitted, rethinking the situation. She stepped back, holding the door open wide. “Come in.”
Preparing her cover story in her conversational generators, Buffybot smiled politely and entered. Everything was going right according to plan!

Lorne shakes his head in the dim stage light, sighing into his drink. “The poor, sweet kid,” he laments, straightening up and staring out into the darkened audience.
“She never had a chance, did she?”

Fifteen minutes later Buffybot was sitting across a small table in the kitchen from Verity, who had changed into dark jeans and a light blouse. Botty had just finished giving her pitch to Verity, who had listened with a mix of bewilderment and delight. Buffybot was registering her body language as ‘hopeful’.
“Let me get this all straight,” Verity finally said, reaching for an espresso she’d just finished brewing, “...you’re not a Brachen demon, but a vampire slayer. And you’re worried about ever finding ‘true love’, so you want ME to cast some sort of spell that will tell you who you’re supposed to be with. Yes?”
“Right!” Buffybot squirmed with excitement. “I don’t really know many witches in Los Angeles, and I remembered you saying that you performed magic of a sexual nature. This would fall under that purview, wouldn’t it?”
Verity cracked a smile. “Well, not exactly. ‘Sex magic’ is really just a variation on regular spellcasting, using sex itself as part of the process. Mostly Tantra based, with a little Left-hand occultism mixed in. Very physical.”
“Oh.” That wasn’t what Buffybot had hoped to hear. Although her occult files were getting a much-needed expansion, she thought optimistically. “So...you can’t help me?”
“I didn’t say that,” Verity countered, “...I do have more than one trick up my sleeves. And actually, I don’t really think this should be that difficult.”
“You don’t?” Buffybot’s enthusiasm started to spike again, and she leaned forward.
Verity shrugged. “Simple love spell,” she said dismissively, “...just needs a little customization. Probably a charm of some sort as a locus. It’ll be a snap. But...and I don’t mean to pry, but...aren’t you seeing someone already?”
Buffybot froze, while Verity gave her a steady stare. “You did say there was someone else, didn’t you? A she someone.”
Rechecking her files from Doyle’s possession, Buffybot realized that she had indeed said just that. In a flash, her cover story generators snapped into action, trying to adapt to the new snag.
“We broke up,” Buffybot immediately came back, proud of her prowess at improvisation. Verity’s face softened.
“I’m sorry,” she offered genuinely, “...it sounded like you had something special. What was her name?”
Rats, Buffybot thought, more snags! Hurriedly, she started trying to generate an appropriate imaginary girlfriend to have broken up with. Although she certainly didn’t have much experience in trying to...
“Tara,” Buffybot suddenly exclaimed in an epiphany, “...her name is Tara.”
Botty smiled. She hoped Willow wouldn’t mind her borrowing Tara’s name as her imaginary girlfriend. It was a good girlfriend name, though, she knew that.
As she waited for Verity to respond, Buffybot suppressed a pulse from her giggle functions. Tara was her imaginary girlfriend! What fun!
“Don’t think I know her,” Verity replied, trying to place the name from her numerous clients at the bar. “Why’d you break up?”
Buffybot consulted her processors yet again, but they were having some difficulty now. She made a bit of a sour face. Why WOULD anyone break up with Tara? That would just be silly. She’s so sweet, and funny, and...
“God, I’m sorry,” Verity interrupted, shaking her head somewhat shamefacedly, “...I’m being so nosy. It’s none of my business. Sorry, pitfalls of bartending. You start to forget not everyone wants to open up to you.”
“It’s all right, really! I think it’s nice that you’re concerned. You’re very sweet.”
Buffybot smiled widely, and Verity gave her a curious stare. “You seem so different now than when I met you,” she had to finally admit, “...how soon did you want this done?”
“Well, as soon as possible,” Buffybot responded immediately, “...I mean, if it’s not too much trouble. I can pay you...well, a little anyways. I don’t have very much...”
“Oh, hey, don’t worry about it! I like the challenge. And if you like, I think I could fix it up today. Just a simple revision, like I say.”
“That would be wonderful!” Buffybot tried hard to contain her outward glee. What a good idea this had been! She smiled proudly, wondering why everyone didn’t do this. She’d be happily in love by the end of the day at this rate!

“Oh, it breaks the heart, doesn’t it? You just want to reach out and shake some sense into those shapely circuits of hers.`
Not hearing a response, Lorne nods anyways and settles back down.
“Pardon the interruption. Please continue.”

It had taken almost two hours for Verity to get her spell ready, two hours in which Buffybot had been just as helpful and full of ideas as she had ever been. It had taken considerable willpower on Verity’s part not to kick Botty out of her apartment several times during that phase. Sometimes, despite her intentions, the little robot could help TOO much.
“Are we ready? Is it time?”
Verity threw Buffybot an annoyed glance as she tried to spare a look at the time. She’d have to leave for work, soon. “I think so,” she finally said, motioning Buffybot towards a spot she’d prepared on the floor, “...sit down.”
Buffybot eagerly did as she was told, squatting down smartly across from Verity. A space had been cleared between them, in which lay a small red kerchief spread out flat. Resting atop it was a small crystal charm in the shape of a flower, attached to a length of silver chain.
“That’s the charm I’m going to use, right? It’s very pretty!”
“Uh huh.” Verity flipped an old spell book open to a marked page. “Now be very still. I need to concentrate while I cast.”
“I’m very excited,” Buffybot couldn’t resist chirping out, prompting a frustrated sigh from Verity, “...thank you so much. This is awfully nice of you to do for me!”
“Don’t worry about it,” she replied, “...now calm down, please. We’re starting.”
“Oh, good,” Buffybot fidgeted, staring at the charm, “...It’ll be nice to know. What to do, I mean. It was so confusing.”
“Mmm-hmmm.” Verity shut her eyes, trying to ignore Buffybot’s ramblings. She was actually a little nervous about this, having never cast a similar spell on anyone else’s behalf before and needed all her will to focus on...
“I mean, if I’m gay, I should know about it, right? That’s...”
“Shush! I’m casting!”
Opening one eye and glaring it at Buffybot, Verity managed to get the robot to simmer down. “Sorry,” she offered weakly, forcing herself to stifle her vocal programs long enough to allow Verity to perform her magic. She was doing a favour after all, and the least she could do was let her perform her spell in peace. She wondered exactly how long it would take.
Just as Buffybot was about to violate her recently enacted silence protocols to ask Verity just that, the darker haired woman spoke. “It’s done.”
Buffybot leaned forward excitedly. “Really? Are you sure? Because I didn’t detect any...I mean, I didn’t see anything happen.”
“I felt it,” Verity smiled, feeling suddenly proud, “...the charm is all set. Put it on.”
Happily, Buffybot reached out and took the necklace, fastening it quickly about her own neck. She thought it sparkled very prettily.
“Now, if this all worked right, all you have to do is wear the charm in front of...whoever. And if they’re, you know, ‘the one’, it’ll let you know. A flash, or a telepathic pulse or something like that. I’m a little fuzzy on specifics. First time.”
Flashing Buffybot a half-apologetic smile, Verity eyed the charm. “Feel anything right now?”
Botty glanced again at the flower. “No...nothing special.”
“Guess that counts me out,” Verity offered, just a little sadly. Buffybot immediately got an alert from her emotion control center.
“Oh...oh my goodness, I’m sorry! I’ve been awfully rude, haven’t I? I don’t mean to...”
“Hey...it’s okay. I was just teasing, really.”
“No, I want...” Buffybot straightened up, smiling. “You’re a very pretty girl,” she said directly, “...and it’s very nice of you to help me like this. Thank you SO much. I...I hope we can be friends. If that’s all right.”
Staring for a moment, Verity’s face curled up into an inadvertant smile, and a hand shot up to cover part of her face. She had to sniffle a few times as she nodded.
“I have to get ready for work,” she finally said, coughing the emotion out of her voice, “...you should get going.”
Buffybot nodded smartly, leaping to her feet. Verity watched as she started to head for the doorway. “Call me later on,” she shouted out, making Buffybot turn, “...I’d like to know how it goes.”
“I sure will!” Buffybot gave Verity a smile and a wave, turning again and hopping out the door, pulling it closed behind her. Verity stared for a few seconds.
“That was so weird,” she finally decided, getting to her feet. She headed for the bedroom to get changed for work. A thought occurred to her as she picked out a new outfit, and she had to work not to laugh.
“THAT’S a vampire slayer..?”

“A magic charm? Are you kiddin’ me?”
Buffybot shook her head, holding the necklace up for Doyle to see. “Look how pretty! And it’ll tell me who I’m supposed to fall in love with! Isn’t that wonderful?”
Doyle was highly sceptical. “Looks like somethin’ off’a the home shopping network, doll. I mean come on, a bartender..?”
“She was very nice!” Buffybot defended, “...and she knows LOTS of neat magic. I wonder who I’ll fall in love with? Do you think it will be Angel?”
Doyle scowled, peering more closely at the charm. He seemed, to Buffybot, awfully studious. “What’s wrong?”
“Just checkin’ to see if it actually has ‘disaster’ written on it somewhere...”
“Please be happy for me, Mister Doyle...I just want...”
“I know, I know,” Doyle stopped her, moving back in a conciliatory gesture. “You just want to be happy. Don’t we all? Just promise me you won’t get your hopes up TOO high. Magic’s a tricky business.”
“I’ll try,” Buffybot offered, extrapolating about setting a resource ceiling on her emotion/hope output data, as per Doyle’s request. “Thank you for worrying, Mister Doyle. I’ll be just fine...you watch!”
Glancing away, Buffybot set her visual scanners in the direction of the hotel, a few dozen feet away. An excited smile started playing on her face. “I’m going to go inside now,” she declared, “...wish me luck!”
Doyle offered Buffybot a weak thumbs-up. “Knock’em dead, darlin’. Let me know how it turns out.”
Buffybot nodded happily, turning on her heels and moving out towards the hotel entrance. Doyle watched her walk, slowly shaking his head, and trying very unsuccessfully to quell the sinking feeling in his gut before fading away once again.

Practically leaping inside, Buffybot let the main door fall shut behind her as she bounded into the hotel lobby. Cordelia, seated behind the front desk, lifted her head from a magazine at the robot’s entrance.
“Hey,” she called out, a little bored, “...where have you been?”
Buffybot stopped and smiled. “Just out walking,” she told her, opting for the simplest of cover scenarios. Cordy seemed to be scarcely listening.
“Mmm,” she grunted, stare dropping back down to the pages she’d been leafing through a moment ago. Before Buffybot could proceed further, however, Cordelia snuck another glance in her direction.
“That a new necklace?” she asked, mildly interested now. Buffybot girded herself, fighting off a mild wave of fear and anxiety.
“Yes,” she announced a little too forcefully, “...I bought it at a small store! Would you like to see it?”
A moment, then, “Sure. Celebrity gossip just isn’t what it used to be.”
Folding the magazine shut, Cordelia walked around the counter, and Buffybot moved to meet her halfway. This would be her first real test of the necklace, she thought with growing glee. She wondered how it would work, exactly. Magic sure could be exciting!
Cordelia stopped in front of Buffybot and gave the pendant a once over. “Kinda cute,” she appraised, “...where’d you say you...”
Cordy paused, and Buffybot suddenly registered an energy fluctuation of unknown origin impacting on her plasmonic relays. It was very slight...just like a tingle all over her outer shell. But where had...
“Wow...weird,” Cordelia said with a shudder, “...I just got this tingle all over.”
Buffybot’s eyes went as wide as her facial motors would allow. “Me too! I felt a tingle too! We tingled!”
Cordy shot Buffybot a glare. “Yeah...tingles all around. Whatever. Listen, Angel was looking for you. Think he wanted to talk to you about something.”
But Buffybot was barely listening, string at Cordelia with wonder. This MUST have been the charm at work, she decided, having no other explanation for the sensory affects of a moment ago. Right when she’d shown the charm to Cordelia! But that must mean...she had never even THOUGHT about that possibility. Cordelia?
“I...I didn’t think you really liked me that much,” Buffybot blurted aloud, her electronic mind racing with unexpected concerns and ideas. Cordelia froze.
“What?? No! That’s...what are you talking about? That’s crazy robot talk. I like you fine!”
But Buffybot’s mind was still reeling. “But...it’s just that...I didn’t really expect...oh golly, I feel so confused now...”
“Okay, look...I admit, the whole robot-Buffy thing threw me for a loop. It’s a bit odd...all right, incredibly, disturbingly weird, but that’s okay! Weird is the new normal around here, so...relax!”
“Relax...yes! I’ll relax, that would be good. Relax.”
Unfortunately, Buffybot had no idea how to go about doing that just at the moment. Cordelia being her true love wasn’t a possibility she’d even considered considering...at least, not after she’d found out that Mister Doyle had feelings for her. It just didn’t seem proper!
But they’d tingled! Oh, what was a robot to do?
“Hey, there she is!”
Spinning at Gunn’s voice, Buffybot already detected and identified him, Wesley and Angel before they appeared in her optic scans. She was rather relieved at the intrusion.
Smiling, Gunn strode up and patted Botty warmly on the shoulder. “Hard robot to find today,” he joked, “...where you been at?”
“I was out,” Buffybot answered quickly, “...I shopped! I bought a necklace, see?”
Buffybot held the charm out for all three to see, simultaneously theorizing in a separate processing center just how much Cordelia might already be in love with her. Would she have to let her down hard? She sure didn’t want to hurt her feelings, but theirs was a forbidden love! She just couldn’t do that to Mister Doyle and...
“It’s pretty,” Angel said with a hint of a smile, arms folded over his chest. Wesley leaned in for a slightly closer look.
“Yes, quite fetching,” he noted drily, rising back up. “What do they call that nowadays...bling-a-ding?”
Wesley cast an inquisitive glare in Gunn’s direction, who glared back in awe. “That’s just awful on SO many levels, I’m gonna pretend you didn’t even say it.”
“I appreciate that,” Wesley murmured, suddenly becoming red and staring at his shoes. A second later, however, an odd look came over him. He raised his eyes.
“That was...did anyone else just feel...”
“A weird tingling?” Gunn finished, also looking uncomfortable, “...like a sudden jolt of electricity, almost?”
Angel looked at Wes and Gunn, surprised. “You guys too?” He rubbed his arms rapidly, and Buffybot felt her surprise generators temporarily overwhelming her interaction processors. She’s felt the same tingling again just now as well! And...and so had Wesley, Gunn AND Angel??
“That’s so weird,” Cordelia added, giving Buffybot a cautious poke with an outstretched finger, “..are you staticky or something?”
Oh dear oh dear oh DEAR, Buffybot thought with rising panic, whatever was she going to do NOW? She couldn’t be true love to four people at the same time, could she? She wasn’t programmed for polyamorous relationships! She wasn’t even certain if that would be legal in the state of California (but resolved to find out, just in case). And what if they started fighting over her? Or if she had to pick just one? She would hurt everyone’s feelings then!
Gosh darn it, Buffybot thought ruefully, why did she have to be so PRETTY..?
“Buffybot?” Angel asked, noting the strange looks passing over the android’s face, “..you okay?”
Buffybot was about to nod as a minimum acceptable polite response, when something came back from her logic processors, something she hadn’t thought of. Though upon examining it, she realized she likely should have.
Verity hadn’t been able to tell her exactly how the spell results would manifest, she recalled...it could be anything. Maybe the tingling meant that person WASN’T her true love! That would make sense. Even factoring her cuteness in at high estimates, it was extremely unlikely that the first four people she encountered would be her true love. She smiled...golly, what a silly robot she could be sometimes! She’d just been so excited.
“...Buffybot?”
Buffybot snapped to attention, grabbing the charm tightly in her hands, a renewed sense of urgency in her processors. “Where’s Fred?”
Angel frowned, thinking, but Wesley beat him to the punch. “She’s upstairs in her room, I’m fairly certain,” he offered, “...but Buffybot, there was something we wanted to...”
“I have to show Fred my necklace!” Buffybot declared, squooshing past Wesley and Gunn and dashing for the stairs. They all watched her go, baffled.
“Wow,” Gunn noted first, “...she really digs that necklace, huh?”
Cordelia shrugged. “You know us girls and our accessories,” she replied, before heading back to her magazine.

“Hello, Fred? Can I come in?”
Botty waited eagerly at the edge of Fred’s door, so excited that she didn’t even bother to say ‘knock knock’. She didn’t wait long.
“C’mon in!” Fred shouted, and Buffybot opened the door, scooting inside. Fred was squatted on her bed, several decidedly musty tomes spread out on the sheets before her.
“I was just lookin’ through some of Wesley’s monster books and things,” she explained, eager smile on her face, “...figured if I’m gonna be a full time demon fighter, I should probably know something about ‘em. Did you know the full grown female Keplar Beast could cover an area the size of a football field in molten saliva? Grody.”
“That seems highly unpleasant,” Buffybot agreed, stepping up to the bedside, “...would you like to see my necklace?”
Fred immediately shifted away from her books, eyes popping wide. “Ooo, pretty! Where’dja get it?”
“At a store,” Buffybot answered, continuing with her rather simple little cover fib, “...I bought it! Do you really like it?”
Buffybot felt a little anxious awaiting Fred’s reply...and, more importantly, the charm’s. If her calculations in this area were correct, a tingling sensation indicated a negative response...which meant she’d already been shot down four times in the last few minutes. She tried not to let that depress her, however. There was still...
A familiar shudder along Buffybot’s plasmonic nanoshell interrupted her musings, and her hopes sank straightaway. Fred too, seemed to shiver all over.
“Oh wow, goosebumps!” She bounced slightly on the bed, rubbing her arms. “I used to think that meant someone was talkin’ about you somewhere, you know, like that whole ears burning thing? Only they were talkin’ about you SO much, you felt it all over? But then I figured that was kinda stupid, and it was probably just a chill or something. Did you wanna do monster research with me?”
Glumly filing Fred’s winding dialogue away in her conversational files, Buffybot poked at her charm. Maybe she should have tried harder to follow Mister Doyle’s advice, she thought, and not gotten too hopeful. She’d thought for sure at least ONE of her new friends and her would be a suitable romantic match. Angel and Fred especially, depending of course on whether she was gay or not. Silly that she didn’t have that specified in her registry information. How did regular people know?
Buffybot tried to keep her frown from becoming too noticeable, hardly succeeding. She supposed she’d just be alone for a little while longer, then.
“I should probably go and see what Angel wanted to talk about,” she offered, declining Fred’s research party invitation, “...but thank you. I hope you have fun reading!”
“Okay...”
Fred waved as Buffybot turned and headed for the door, wondering if she had said something wrong. Botty didn’t seem as perky as usual.
Oh well, she thought with an excited grin...that’d all change when she talked to Angel.

In the lobby, Cordelia sat uncomfortably at the counter, shifting constantly in her seat. Wesley was in his office, Gunn had stepped outside, and Angel was pacing back and forth. After a few fruitless laps of the lobby, he made his way back to the counter, leaning up across from Cordy.
“It’s the weirdest thing,” he said, not looking directly at Cordelia, “...I feel...I don’t know, tense, somehow. But it’s like...”
“I know,” Cordelia interrupted, pushing away her magazine and rubbing her wrist, “...I feel it too. Kind of...anxious. Like, REALLY anxious.”
“Almost hot,” Angel added, now looking at Cordelia, who stared fervently back.
“Bothered,” she agreed, breathing harder now. Her face moved towards Angel’s. “Like I’m going to explode unless...”
“Unless you get satisfaction,” Angel answered, lips almost touching hers, “...yes. God, yes...”
“Angel...”
They hardly moved, staring into one another’s eyes, Cordelia’s breath hot on Angel’s face. He suppressed a shudder.
“Well...see you later,” he suddenly blurted, pushing away from the counter. Cordelia barely paid attention.
“Yeah, later,” she murmured automatically, eyes shifting towards the stairs, Angel all but forgotten in her mind already. She immediately spotted Buffybot, trundling morosely down the winding staircase. A hungry smile started forming on her lips.

“Angel,” Buffybot called out, spotting the pacing vampire wandering throughout the lobby, somewhat aimlessly. “I’m all ready to talk if you wanted to...”
“Not now,” he grumbled, not even looking at Buffybot. The little robot stopped with a surprised frown, her thought threatening to go from bad to worse. Did no one even LIKE her anymore? “Hey! Buffybot!”
Botty turned at Cordelia’s call, and saw the brunette smiling and waving her over. Turning on her smile function despite her mood, Buffybot left Angel’s inattentive presence and skipped over to the counter.
“Hello Cordelia! Can I do something for you?”
Cordy smiled playfully. “Hey, Buffybot...Joan,” she corrected herself with a small laugh, “...listen, I was thinking...I feel really bad about what you said before. I really hope I haven’t done anything to make you think I didn’t like you, y’know?”
Right away, Buffybot felt a flutter in her guilt generators. “Oh golly, no! I’m sorry...I didn’t mean to say anything bad, Cordelia. I’m just a silly robot sometimes. You’re great!”
“It’s just, I know I can come off like the ice queen sometimes,” Cordy admitted, tilting her head in Buffybot’s direction, “...and I was wondering if maybe you’d let me make it up to you.”
“I don’t understand,” Buffybot admitted.
“Well...I’m done for today,” Cordelia started, lolling her fingers slowly across the countertop, “...so I thought, maybe, if you wanted to come back to my place with me, I could maybe fix us both dinner.” Her eyes rose to meet Buffybot’s. “Do robots eat dinner?”
Surprised, Buffybot’s eyes flashed wide. “Sure! I can eat! You...really want to take me to see your house?”
“Well, not a house exactly,” she noted, stretching one hand out to gently stroke the sleeve of Buffybot’s jacket, “...just an apartment. It’s nice. Small...cozy.”
Accentuating the last word with a seductive smile that went completely unnoticed by a suddenly perky-again robot, Cordelia didn’t have long to wait for a response. “That sounds super!” Buffybot declared, happily putting her frown upside down. Silly old charm, she decided, getting her all blue like that...she still had wonderful friends, and here was the proof! She’d just have to find true love some other day. “When did you want to...”
“Right now,” Cordy said, grabbing hold of Buffybot’s sleeve and darting our from behind the counter. She immediately started dragging Botty towards the doors. “Angel, taking off now, call if there’s trouble, blah blah blah.”
“Yes, goodbye Angel”, Buffybot said awkwardly, adjusting herself to follow Cordelia’s suddenly insistent lead, “...I’ll talk to you later!”
Angel grunted something to himself, not taking much note of Cordelia and Buffybot’s exit. Instead, he prowled the lobby rather fiercely for another few minutes, trying to make sense of the strange feelings coming over him. He felt like he had a pulse again, and he didn’t understand it. There was something new, something he NEEDED, and he couldn’t quite...
A sudden sound drew his attention, and Angel turned. What he saw was Wesley stepping out of the office, looking rather worn himself. He took a few steps towards the counter, shaking his head. Angel froze for a moment, then rolled his shoulders and started walking in that direction.
“Hey, Wes.”
Wesley turned, startled at the sound. His eyes seemed to lock on Angel. “Angel...hello. I didn’t realize you were still here.”
“Seem to be,” he answered playfully, walking closer, “...what’re you doing?”
Fumbling with his glasses, Wesley let a few odd papers in his hand fall onto the countertop. “Oh, just some paperwork,” he noted, “...couldn’t really concentrate.”
“I know the feeling,” Angel agreed, stepping up awfully close to Wesley. They stood quietly for a moment.
“I think we need a break,” Angel finally said, breaking the silence. Wesley nearly dropped his papers.
“Yes, yes...when don’t we, I suppose?”
“Maybe a night out? Cut loose for a change.”
“That sounds...good,” Wesley admitted, taking along breath. He pulled the glasses from his face and glanced nervously into Angel’s eyes. Angel stared back.
“Just the two of us..?”
Angel waited a long moment for Wesley to reply, when a door slammed shut and drew both their attention away. Across the lobby, Gunn strode purposefully in from the gazebo, heading straight for them.
“What’s goin’ on?” he asked, slightly accusatory in his tone, “...little impromptu pow-wow? Hope you’re not talkin’ about me.”
Angel stepped away from Wesley, folding his arms defensively. “We weren’t.”
Fumbling, Wesley quickly slipped his glasses back on. “Angel was, uh, just suggesting that perhaps we could take a night off. Step out, so to speak.”
“Sounds all right,” Gunn noted, stepping up beside Wesley and leaning on the counter, “...I’m in. You all WERE planning on inviting me, right?”
Angel scowled. “Well, ACTUALLY...”
“Oh, of course!” Wesley interrupted, smiling graciously, “...the more the merrier.”
“Glad to hear it. Nothing like a little extra body heat to get things going.” Gunn flashed a smile at Wesley, then cast a rather disparaging glance towards Angel. “Guess that’s something you wouldn’t have much experience with, huh Angel?”
Angel fumed for a moment while Gunn turned back to Wes. “So where we going? I know a few happenin’ places near my old crib.”
“Hey, no offense?” Angel said, “...but I don’t think Wes OR me would exactly fit in someplace like that.”
“Never know ‘til you try,” Gunn replied, a little defensive, “...besides, you got any better ideas?”
A smile crossed Angel’s face. “As a matter of fact...I know just the place.”

Within a couple of minutes Angel, Wesley and Gunn had vacated the Hotel, leaving the lobby silent and empty. Until a pattering of footsteps started down the stars, echoing eerily in the vast space.
“Buffybot?”
Fred’s voice trailed off, with no answer coming forth. She waited a few second and called out again louder this time, and was again met with no reply. She looked frustrated.
“Cordelia?” she tried, but nothing. She fidgeted for a moment on the stairs, eventually dashing down the rest of the way. She looked about, but there was no one there. She was all alone in the Hotel.
Grumbling, Fred thrust her hands into her pockets. She didn’t know what was coming over her, but she just couldn’t stand the idea of being alone right now. Where the heck was..?
Something stuck into her palm, and she yanked her hands out of her pockets. In one of her hands was a small white business card. She stared at it with interest.
DR. JULIE STEWART, MD.
A wicked smile crossed Fred’s lips, and she started towards the telephone.

“Well, this is my place. Do you like it?”
Buffybot smiled widely. It had seemed like forever since she had been in an honest to gosh house. “It’s wonderful! Thank you SO much for inviting me over, Cordelia!”
“It’s my pleasure,” Cordelia replied, shutting the door behind Buffybot and taking her coat, “...here. Let me get that.”
“Oh, thank you! You’re so nice!” Buffybot shimmied out of her leather jacket gleefully, scanning Cordelia’s apartment. “Would you like me to help you make dinner? I’m programmed with LOTS of recipes! Pancakes aren’t just for breakfast, you know.”
“Oh, I’ll take care of all that,” Cordelia said, hanging Botty’s jacket up in a closet and returning to her side. She wrapped an arm around the delighted robot’s shoulder. “You just relax here,”
Easing Buffybot into the living room, Cordy set her down on the sofa, smiling playfully. “I’m just going to go change.”
A small protocol alert issued inside Buffybot’s personality cortex. “Oh dear...am I not dressed properly for dinner?” She took a quick scan of her simple tee-shirt and skirt outfit. “Should I change MY clothes, too?”
Cordelia raised an eyebrow. “We’ll take care of that soon enough,” she breathed, giving Botty’s shoulder a not-too-gentle squeeze. “I won’t be long.”
Buffybot smiled back, and Cordelia turned, moving quickly towards her bedroom. After a moment, Buffybot stood back up, taking in her surroundings. How neat it must be to have a home all of your very own, Buffybot thought. Not that she minded living in the Hotel one little bit, no sir. But a home all your own..!
Still, this was even better, as far as Buffybot was concerned...having great friends who invited you over! And Cordelia, even! She decided she couldn’t wait until after dinner to share, and made a quick thought. A moment later, her wish came true.
“So what happened?” Doyle asked nervously, clenching and unclenching his fists in anticipation. “Was there any bloodshed?”
Buffybot grinned. “You’re so silly, Mister Doyle! Nothing happened...I didn’t find any true love. That’s all.”
Doyle softened a bit, giving Buffybot a comforting look. “Aww, I’m sorry doll. I know you were hopin’...but hey you can’t rush these things. And don’t put everything into some cheap piece’a costume jewelry, neither. You trust your heart, okay?”
Botty frowned. “But I don’t HAVE a heart.”
“Which is a problem because that’s all the advice I have on the subject,” Doyle admitted, “...do you have, I dunno, a program that...hey, are we in Cordy’s place?”
Suddenly recognizing his surroundings, Doyle glanced about with a wave of nostalgia as Buffybot’s face lit up excitedly. “We are! She invited me over to have dinner with her. Isn’t that great?”
“Hey, there ya go! See, I told you they were good folks, didn’t I?” Doyle beamed, then glanced over Buffybot’s shoulder towards the stereo. “Who’s that guy?”
That earned a confused look, and Buffybot glanced in the direction of Doyle’s stare. “Who?”
“Whattaya mean, who?” Doyle asked, now pointing at his subject. “The guy standin’ right there! Probably thinks you’re a loon, talkin’ to yourself like this, by the way.”
“I don’t understand, Mister Doyle,” Buffybot continued, giving more power to her external scanners, “...I’m not detecting anyone present in the house besides myself and Cordelia.”
By now the man, a younger, well-groomed man in his early twenties, started walking cautiously over. Buffybot remained oblivious.
“I’m looking right AT him,” Doyle protested, bewildered by Buffybot’s confusion. “...And now, he’s lookin’ right at me...”
Doyle started to get troubled himself, when the man spoke in his direction. “Hey, can...can you SEE me?”
“Are...are you talkin’ to me?”
Buffybot turned back towards Doyle. “I didn’t say anything.”
“Not you,” Doyle snapped, keeping his attention on the fellow before him. Who could possibly... “Wait a minute...it can’t be...” Doyle shook his head in disbelief, leaning a hair closer. “...Dennis?”
Registering visible shock, ‘Phantom’ Dennis took another few steps towards Doyle and Botty. “Hey, do I know you?? Gosh, you sure look familiar...”
“It’s me, Doyle!” He shouted, a smile forming on his ghostly features, “...I was here a few times back when I was alive. Me and Angel helped stop your Mom, remember?”
“Mister Doyle, you’re confusing me something terrible,” Buffybot had to admit, “...who are you talking to?”
“Aw, sorry, sorry...Buffybot, this is Dennis...Cordelia’s resident ghost. Dennis, this is Buffybot, robotic vampire slayer. I sorta work for her, via the Powers That Be. Long story.”
That came as a surprise, to be sure. Buffybot had no idea that Cordelia had a ghost at her house...she wondered if all houses came with one. She decided to simply smile and wave in what she hoped was Dennis’ direction and ask someone later.
“This is amazing,” Dennis blurted, “...it’s great to finally SEE someone, you know? Or be seen, anyway. You kind of forget how much you miss it.”
“Tell me about it,” Doyle agreed, smiling, “...so how’re things? You keeping busy?”
Dennis shrugged. “I mostly just help Cordelia with the housework...boy, she was REALLY sad when you died. She cried for ages.”
“Hey, that’s great!” Doyle said, before catching himself. “I mean, it’s terrible, obviously! I mean...it’s just nice to be missed you know?”
“I wouldn’t know,” Dennis admitted, “...I’m pretty sure my Mom didn’t cry too much about me dying. You know, with her being the one who killed me and all.”
“Yeah...” Doyle stared at his shoes, hoping the awkward moment would pass soon enough. “So did I mention Buffybot here is a robot?”
“Mister Doyle!”
Doyle quickly waved Buffybot’s worries away. “Don’t worry, doll. There are no secrets among us ghosts, am I right? Besides, who could he tell?”
“Your secret’s safe with me, ma’am!” Dennis swore, “...golly, a robot! I bet they’re all over these days. Isn’t the future amazing?”
Doyle smiled politely, remembering that the housebound Dennis was a product of the 1950's. He supposed that what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. “So, does Cordy play hostess much, Dennis?”
Shaking his head Dennis glanced towards the bedroom. “Hardly ever. Usually I’m glad to have her all to myself, but still, it’s nice to see her socializing. I worry sometimes.”
A shuffling came from the bedroom, and all three pairs of eyes waited for Cordelia to return.
“Personally, I’m wonderin’ what she’s gonna fix for dinner. I never imagined Cordy could cook!”
Buffybot spent a moment wondering about that herself, simultaneously trying to come to terms with the multiple ghostly presences chatting all about her, when Cordelia appeared in the doorway to the living room. Immediately, Doyle and Dennis’ immaterial jaws dropped as Cordy lowered her eyes in Buffybot’s direction. She was wearing only a black bra, panties and stockings, with a matching lightweight robe draped across her back. Her long black hair fell across her shoulders, and Doyle decided to withdraw his previous misgiving. Oh boy, could she ever cook.
“I thought we’d skip dinner,” Cordy drawled, staring into Buffybot’s surprised eyes, “...and get right to dessert.”
Buffybot blinked a few times, taking in the sight before her. She leaned towards Doyle, speaking ever so softly.
“I think she works out.”

Letting out a deep breath Lorne fanned himself wildly with his free hand. “Yowza! Is it me, or is it getting hot in here? Hey, let’s be honest here...it’s both.”
A mild swell of laughter crosses the room and Lorne waved self-consciously. “But seriously folks, the steam factor is approaching lobster levels, and maybe it’s time to take a bit of a breather and look at the bigger picture. Let’s face it, teevee ain’t what it used to be back in the good old days when Miss Doris Day had her own show, and fake, fanfictional teevee is no different. Now it’s all about ‘season-long arcs’ and ‘continuity’ and ‘excuse me while I take notes’, am I right?”
Applause rang forth, and Lorne leaned back on his tool. “In that respect, let’s take a contractually-obligated time-out, and check in with a couple of the supporting players, who otherwise would have nothing at all to do with this episode.”
Glancing out towards the audience, Lorne cannot hide his sneer. “This might be a good time to go and grab a snack.”

Past carefully arranged stacks of rare books and manuscripts, through a delicate maze made of Egyptian pottery and Faberge eggs, down a flight of stairs flanked on both sides by vintage WWI propaganda posters and pin-up art, Lara Markham forded the occasionally tricky pathways of the Collector’s tesseract with practiced patience. If she knew him half as well as she knew most of her selves, she knew where he’d be. Probably sulking, too.
She grinned. He was so cute when he sulked.
As expected, Lara spotted the object of her search in his favourite wing, populated with most of his preferred pieces. He was straddling a 1914 Harley-Davidson, leafing through the September 1961 issue of the Flash.
“You forgot to charge your phone,” Lara said by way of announcement, and Quinn laughed under his breath. He set his comic down on Blackbeard’s treasure chest.
“Just taking a little Me time,” he muttered, forcing a smile and hopping off his bike, “...everyone else in the world seems to be intent on bumming me out the last few days. It’s like they don’t get how cool I am or something.”
Lara sighed. “Did things not go well with Marcel?”
Stepping past a statue of Nefertiti, Quinn crossed his arms grumpily. “Pissant wouldn’t even let me negotiate. Offered him three live werewolf cubs, but he just turned his snooty nose up. I mean, I couldn’t SEE him over the phone, but I could tell he was turning his nose up. Belgians...”
Her smile widening, Lara took a playful step closer. “Well, I’ve got something that just might turn that frown upside down. Make you forget all about bad old Marcel.”
Quinn’s eyes brightened. “Seriously? Babe, you wouldn’t tease me right now, would you? I’m so sick of sitting and waiting I could eat Napoleon’s hat...if I could find the damn thing, I think Mok put it in the wrong wing...”
“I’ve got something,” Lara interrupted, “...or rather, one of my counterparts does. She’s come into possession of a highly unique item that I think could benefit us.”
Quinn shot to attention. “For the spell?”
She shook her head. “Doesn’t work that way, honey, you know that. They have to be homegrown, remember?”
“Right,” Quinn noted, calming down. “So what..?”
“That client of yours, the one so interested in the Buffybot...this is something up his alley. I think he’d be very interested. In fact, I guarantee it.”
“You don’t say? Tell me more, brighteyes. That cat has mucho power to barter with.”
Lara squirmed slightly. “Too much. You should be careful with that one, Quinn.”
“Lara, he’s not Voldemort. You can say his name.”
“You don’t know him like I do,” Lara continued, firm, “..he’s conquered a dozen realities already, Quinn. Killed two of me in the process. And if he’s making moves in THIS reality, then...”
“Whatever he’s planning,” Quinn said, cutting Lara off, “...he won’t get the chance to pull it off, will he? Not with me around. This land is MY land, babe. If he’s lucky, he can have a secretarial position when I’m done.”
Lara smiled, an Quinn put a hand on her shoulder. “Now tell me about this score. How do we transport it?”
“It’ll be tricky,” Lara admitted, “...not like with me. I’ll prepare a list of mystics you’ll need to contract. And low profile is key. We have to stay off Wolfram and Hart’s radar for this one. WAY off.”
“I can do sneaky,” Quinn affirmed, wrapping his arm around Lara and leading her past Houdini’s water tank and back to the main chamber. “What about security? Is the cargo live? Dangerous? Bigger than a breadbasket?”
Lara cast her thoughts out, beyond the limits of our narrow reality, and took a long breath. “All of the above,” she confirmed.

“Hunh.”
Unimpressed, Lorne swivels back around to the audience. “Well, I don’t really get it...my bet? That was just some space-filler. Never come to anything...probably pretty safe to forget all about it.”
A general murmur of agreement rustled through the crowd, and Lorne raised his glass, tinkling the icecubes and glaring towards the bar.
“Hey, refill sometime this century, okay, gorgeous? Honestly, if I didn’t own this place, sometimes I swear I’d never come here.”
Taking a deep breath, Lorne waits a few moments before remembering the audience. A quick blush reddens his green skin.
“Oh, sorry. Where are my manners these days? Back to the action!”

People were filing in at a steady pace at the West Hollywood nightclub called Pink Sunshine. Saturdays were always a big night, and Jerry recognized many o the patrons at the door. He was anticipating a typically hectic night when a tap on his shoulder turned him around.
“Jer,” Verity said, running a hand through her hair, “...do you know where the straws are? I can’t find any in dry storage.”
Jerry stamped a passing hand and thought for a second. “Yeah...I think they’re keeping them behind the downstairs bar now. No clue why.”
Verity fumed momentarily. What was a storage room good for if you didn’t store things there? She let out a loud breath, then turned her attention to the music flowing from inside.
“Who’s the DJ tonight?” She asked, intrigued, “...she’s fantastic.”
“Someone from Montreal,” Jerry answered, “..don’t remember the name. Supposedly she’s got a good...”
A loud screeching of tires ground Jerry’s train of thought to a halt. He and Verity, as well as a few odd patrons enjoying a smoke break outside, glanced up to see a polished black convertible settling to a stop in the lot. Three men quickly emerged and stepped lively towards the entrance, casting strange glances among one another. Jerry put on a big smile as they approached.
“Angel, good to see! You and your crew...hey, this isn’t business tonight, I hope? We just got cleaned up after the last...”
“Nothing like that, Jerry,” Angel smiled, shaking Jerry’s hand firmly, “...strictly pleasure this time out. You remember Wesley..?”
Angel stepped aside to let Wesley, wearing a surprisingly stylish blue shirt buttoned a few inches lower than his usual, by. He smiled graciously, and Angel tried to step closer when he was muscled aside from behind. He scowled.
“...and Gunn?”
Gunn, wearing an awfully tight red tee-shirt, shook Jerry’s hand a swell, flashing him a quick wink. “Good to see you again, man.” He glanced inside the club. “Hey, nice tunes! Who’s spinnin’?”
As Jerry related what he knew, Verity slipped by them towards Angel. “Angel, bambino! It’s been too long. Que pasa?”
“Same old, same old,” Angel muttered, barely giving Verity a glance as she kissed his cheek. His eyes were fixed on Wesley and Gunn.
“...Just out to have a good time. Shall we?”
Ignoring Verity, Angel brushed through and strode between Wes and Gunn, throwing a friendly arm over Wes’ shoulders, ushering him inside. Gunn clenched his fists, following along straightaway. Jerry and Verity just watched them go.
“Go right in,” Jerry muttered to no one in particular, “...that was kinda weird.”
“I know...” Verity’s put her hands on her hips, lost in thought. She gave a stern glance at Angel as he moved into the crowd.
“Didn’t we get a memo once, about Angel and leather pants..?”
“Maybe,” Jerry offered hesitantly, leaning a little closer to Verity. “...you don’t suppose he’s finally coming out, do you?”
“Ah, Dios,” Verity breathed, shaking her head, “...he’ll be so much happier.”

“So what do you say, Buffybot...are you ready for a taste of heaven?”
Cordelia leaned herself up against the wall, bedroom eyes searing towards her guest. Buffybot smiled politely, wondering if Cordelia’s new outfit meant this was one of those ‘pajama parties’ Dawn had told her about once.
Not that those were strictly pajamas she was wearing, but Buffybot didn’t want to say anything. They were VERY pretty, besides.
On either side of her, however, a pair of disembodied spirits were having a little more trouble than Buffybot. Both of them seemed rather dumbstruck by Cordelia’s reappearance.
“What...what...what...” was all Dennis could manage, quivering where he stood. Doyle, meanwhile, was feeling a lot more hot and bothered than he’d thought he as a spirit, was supposed to.
“Ho boy,” he muttered, staring transfixed, “...maybe I should’a let Angel jump after all...”
Trying not to get distracted by Doyle’s babbling, Buffybot tried to remain a civil guest. “Dessert sounds yummy!” She announced, but was slightly confused. “Is Heaven the name of a dessert too? I know it’s a place where good souls are supposed to go when the body ceases functioning, because I was asking once, but I don’t have any entry in my recipe files for...”
“Oh, now, don’t be shy,” Cordelia drawled, slinking towards Buffybot with feline grace. She stopped inches from Buffybot, throwing her arms around her shoulders. “I’ll let you lick the plate, even.”
“Oh, this ain’t right,” Doyle finally said, regaining a bit of his decorum, “...something ain’t right here. I smell a big whiff of wrong.”
Dennis, also getting over his initial shock, now seemed to be getting visibly upset himself. “What...what’s going on here? Cordelia! What are you DOING? You’re not...I mean...that’s just...perverted!”
“Hey, the 50's are over, alright pal?” Doyle flashed defensively, before stepping in towards Buffybot. “But doll, antiquated middle-American morality aside, the kid’s got a point. Cordy’s not...that way!”
Buffybot tried her best to flash Doyle a quick, confused expression...what was he talking about? Cordelia was just being a gracious hostess, wasn’t she? She offered her dessert and everything! Was she missing something?
A second later Cordy shoved Buffybot back down onto the couch and immediately straddled her. Before Buffybot could say anything her hostess started gyrating rather suggestively on her lap.
“Don’t worry, beautiful,” she said seductively, “...you won’t be the first piece of electronic equipment I’ve been intimate with. I mean, I dated Xander for cryin’ out loud, I had to do SOMETHING to compensate!”
Trying to ignore the alerts coming in regarding invasions of her ‘personal space’ from her decorum protocol servers, Buffybot stared up at Cordy. “I’m not sure I understand,” she admitted, “...did you need my help preparing dessert?”
As way of answer, Cordelia leaned down and kissed Buffybot passionately. Intensely, actually, if Buffybot’s readings on the event were accurate. At which point, the little robot thought that yes, perhaps, she WAS missing something after all.
“Stop it!!”
Shouting, Dennis ran forward and shoved hard, separating Buffybot and Cordelia. Cordelia bobbled momentarily before falling backwards to the floor with a thud. Buffybot was alarmed, especially since she could find no cause for the force suddenly exerted upon her.
“Hey!” Doyle shouted angrily, stepping towards Dennis, “...just calm down, kid!”
“What happened?” Buffybot asked urgently, glancing about and down, “...are you all right, Cordelia?”
“Dennis!!”
Scrambling to her feet, Cordelia dusted herself off angrily. “Dennis, you can back off RIGHT now, understand? Mommy wants to get some! Now scram!”
Fuming, Dennis glared in Buffybot’s direction, while she processed what she had just heard. “Dennis did that? But I thought...”
Turning over towards Doyle, Buffybot cast him a perplexed look. “How come Dennis can do things when...other ghosts can’t?”
“Hey!” Doyle stepped back, annoyed. “I can do things! I’m useful, and I...my experience is a valuable...it’s...”
After a moment, Doyle threw his eyes to the ceiling. “Hey, how come he can do things and I can’t??”
“Where were we?”
Casting her robe to the ground, Cordelia started moving towards Buffybot again, only this time the robot was not quite so trusting as before. She wasn’t certain what it was that Cordelia wanted to ‘get some’ of, but she had a feeling it wasn’t dessert.
“Cordelia, you seem to be behaving rather...erratically, by my projections. Maybe we could talk? That would be nice!”
“Nice is overrated,” Cordelia whispered in response, reaching a hand up to Buffybot’s face. “I was in more of a ‘naughty’ mood, myself...”
“Oh dear...”
Before Buffybot could continue, a strong force hit her from the right, knocking her off her feet and into a small coffee table. Unseen by her, Dennis stood testily where she had been only a moment ago, glaring down at her.
“You get away from her!”
“Oh, God!” Cordelia stamped her foot. “Dennis, do I have to call an exorcist? Is that what’s gonna happen here??”
Leaping over Buffybot, Doyle stepped up to Dennis and stared him down. “Would you just cool it? I’m sorry your little ghost-crush is gettin’ thwarted, but something’s going on here, and if you’ll just...”
“Shut UP!” Dennis shouted, shoving Doyle back a few steps. “You two have done something to Cordelia! I know it!”
That got Doyle right steamed, and he stormed back. “ME shut up? No YOU shut up, ya little twerp!”
Shoving right back on instinct, Doyle nearly knocked Dennis off his feet. He took a few moments to cool down before he realized what had just happened. Both he and Dennis got it at the same time.
“You...you PUSHED me!”
Staring at his hands in surprise, Doyle came to the same conclusion. “Guess I did at that,” he mumbled, a slow smile crossing his lips. He stared eagerly over at Dennis. “Well now...that changes things but good, don’t it? Maybe I can’t shove these two around like you can, but YOU...well, hey, you’d better just start playin’ nice or...”
Without a word, Dennis jumped towards Doyle and caught him with a hard right, knocking him backwards even as Cordelia rushed by to help Buffybot to her feet.
“OW! Why you little...”
Doyle turned and rushed at Dennis, tackling him low and driving the both of them through the nearest wall, out of Buffybot’s sight. She was starting to worry quite a bit.
“Cordelia, I think something is happening, but I’m not sure...”
Cordelia moved up close. “You feel it too?” Her breath fell across Buffybot’s cheek as Cordelia pressed her body up against the increasingly confused robot. “Let’s not fight it anymore,” she pleaded, giving Buffybot a wet kiss at the base of her ear, “...make love to me.”
“Make...?”
The moment Buffybot’s logic processors summed up the situation to her, her shock centers started going wild. She hopped backwards nearly two feet.
“Oh...goodness! You...you want ME to...to YOU?”
“Don’t play hard to get,” Cordelia drawled, already moving in again, “...you KNOW we’re meant for each other!”
“No!” Botty quickly protested, “...I didn’t know that at all! Are...are you sure??”
Cordelia responded with a lusty smile, lunging towards Buffybot. Buffybot dodged hastily, leaping to the center of the room while making frantic consultations with her tactical array. None of this was making any sense to her.
“I don’t understand...we tingled! Doesn’t that..?”
She paused, a disturbing thought occurring to her. What if she was right the first time? Was EVERYONE her true love after all??
Buffybot bit her lip. Silly, pretty robot...
“Oh, I’ll make you tingle ALL over, sweetheart. Queen C’s gonna rock your little circuits ‘til they spark.”
“Umm...thank you?”
Unseen to both Cordelia and Buffybot, a few steps away from them, Phantom Dennis came bursting through a nearby wall, a little woozy. He stumbled for a few seconds, trying to make it as far as Botty and Cordy before he spun about, his eyes rolled to the ceiling, and he fell to the ground. A moment later Doyle followed him out, rubbing his knuckles.
“Teach ya to mess with th’fightin’ Irish, sonny-boy. Try again when you’re done puberty.”
Doyle took a moment to nurse a sore jaw, and spare a hope that ghosts didn’t bruise, when he returned his attention to Buffybot. And, of course, the object of his Earthly desires currently trying to jump her metallic bones. He frowned.
“Buffybot! Just knock her out already, okay? I can’t take much more’a this.”
Squaring off with Cordelia, Buffybot threw a nervous glance towards Doyle. “I can’t do that!”
Using the distraction, Cordelia flung herself at Buffybot, wrapping her arms around the robot’s body. “Oh sure you can,” she urged, “...it’s my first time too! With a girl, I mean...But we can’t fight this. It’s okay, we have ALL night...”
Doyle repressed a cringe. “Botty, for the love’a Saint Patrick, I’m beggin’ you. You’re killing me here...”
Cordelia started nibbling hard on Buffybot’s neck, and was making spectacular headway in removing certain key elements of her wardrobe, and Buffybot had to agree...this was all moving just a little fast. And she sure didn’t mean to make poor Mister Doyle upset!
In a flash, Buffybot slipped her hands onto Cordelia’s exposed shoulders. The brunette moaned appreciatively, until Buffybot activated her external offensive array and jolted her hostess with an incapacitating surge of electricity. Cordelia spasmed and let out a loud yelp before going limp. Buffybot caught her before she hit the ground.
She and Doyle stood quietly for a few seconds, Buffybot holding Cordelia awkwardly, before she turned to Doyle with a highly embarrassed face.
“I didn’t think she really LIKED me that much!”

Loud music pulsed rhythmically through the walls of Pink Sunshine, rainbow strobe lights flashing in tune with the beat. It was turning out to be a busy night with a very mixed crowd and Verity was moving fast to keep up with the demand. She’d already had to go for vodka twice, and the Anubites hovering at the end of her bar were threatening to completely drain her wine reserves.
Oddly, however, despite how harried she was Verity found her attention kept drifting back to the three boys on the dance floor. Angel and his two compadres...the ones he’d come here with a week or so back. She’d heard about the trouble after she left that night...and of course, most everyone in the scene had heard about Angel Investigations. Hell, that butch chica from Wolfram and Hart was in here every couple of weeks asking questions (in between drinks).
But this was getting a little strange. Okay, she’d entertained musings about Angel’s...preference, in the past. With a name like that, who wouldn’t? And he always has that look of sexual frustration crazy-glued to his jaw. Still, something about his sudden appearance tonight felt wrong. Especially the way him and his boys were going at it on the floor. Bumping and grinding away like they were fresh off the rehearsal for RENT. And he and the black one were getting awfully aggressive about it...
“Whoo!!”
A wiry fellow in his mid twenties, covered in sweat, tripped up to the bar, leaning over in half-exhaustion. “Girl, it’s a madhouse out there! We need refreshment!”
Verity stepped over, still keeping an eye on the dancing. “Will...you notice anything funny tonight? With Angel?”
“Oh,” Will nearly swooned, putting a hand to his chest and staring out along with Verity, “...Mama Mia, those boys are letting it ALL hang out! I tried to get a piece of that action, but nothing doing, the teases. I think they’re fighting over the scruffy English boy.”
Turning back, Will sighed. “Too bad...I wanted to get me some brown sugar, you know what I’m saying? I know, I’m terrible...two pink ladies, please.”
Verity smiled and started mixing, shaking her worries out of her head for the time being. Too much work to do right now to waste time worrying about a sexually-confused vampire.
She handed Will his drinks and sent him on his way, and was about to hunt down a busboy to get her more ice when the cell phone in her pocket started vibrating. She spared a moment to pull it out and up to her ear.
“Hello?”

Rafe finished locking up the clinic, now that the construction crew had finally taken off for the night. He’d be happy when they were done...it was hard to get anything done with them around, and all that noise was bothering the patients. He grunted. Demon attacks...only in LA...
Pocketing his keys, Rafe turned around and nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw the slender young woman standing directly behind him. He took a few seconds to gather himself, as the woman smiled somewhat disturbingly at him. He thought, however that he recognized her...
“Hiya,” Fred began, her hands fidgeting very anxiously, “...My name’s Winifred Burkle, I was here a few days ago..?”
Rafe snapped his fingers. “Right! I thought you looked...holy cow, you were the girl who got...right out of the examining room! Wow, are you all right?”
“Fine, fine,” Fred said dismissively, “...everything’s hunky-dory! I tried calling earlier, but...”
“Yeah...the attack knocked out our phone lines temporarily. Crazy, huh?”
Fred nodded quickly. “Mmm-hmm! Listen, is Julie...Doctor Stewart in? I really need to see her.”
“Oh, sorry...she left earlier. Personal business. Did you want to schedule an appointment?”
“No! No, it’s...” Fred paused, wiping a few drops of sweat from her brow. “I’m with Angel Investigations?” she began, thinking fast, “...and Julie, she...she asked me to look into a...a Gorka Demoness who’s been bothering her! Yeah, and, and I REALLY need to see her. Important info!”
That made Rafe frown. “Sue? But she seemed so nice...”
“It’s really urgent! Can you just tell me where she is? Please?”
Rafe shook his head apologetically. “I really can’t...I’m sorry. She’ll be in first thing in the morning, if you...”
“JUST TELL ME WHERE SHE IS!!!”
Fred glared at Rafe, shaking just a little, and he returned her psychotic glare with open unease. She breathed heavily, a disturbing smile fixed on her face.
“...never mind.” She said, backing away, “...I’ll find her myself. Thanks. Bye-bye now!”
Rafe watched warily as Fred stepped away, turning and running off like a woman possessed. He let out a small sigh of relief that she was gone.
“Girl needs a shrink, not an MD,” he muttered, giving the clinic door a double check before heading out himself.

Laying Cordelia gently on her couch, Buffybot stood upright, shaking her blonde hair in deep concern. Her scans gave her every indication that Cordelia was unharmed, and would suffer at worst a mild headache upon awakening. That seemed to be the only good news, however.
“I just don’t understand,” Buffybot lamented, “...I sure never thought that Cordelia was so fond of me! Dawn told me that sometimes people play ‘hard to get’, but that never made much sense to my processors...”
“Buffybot...”
“...and here I go, shocking her unconscious at her own house! She’ll NEVER invite me over for dinner again, oh dear oh dear...”
“BUFFYBOT...”
“...I wonder if all the others are secretly in love with me as well?? Oh golly, mister Doyle, I knew I was pretty and everything, on account of looking like Buffy, who’s VERY pretty, but this just seems unfair. How could I ever decide?? They’ll call me a tease, that’s what they’ll call me, oh, the poor lovesick dears...”
“BOTTY!”
Buffybot snapped to attention at Doyle’s insistent shouting, noticing the stern glare he was casting in her direction. He seemed impatient, and pointed rather emphatically towards the shiny charm necklace dangling around her neck.
“The SPELL..?”
Glancing down at the charm, Buffybot automatically consulted her logic processors. Almost immediately, her eyes opened a little wider. She felt a twinge of embarrassment.
“Or...it could have been the spell.”
Doyle continued frowning. “You think?”
Extrapolations continued at a more rapid pace in Buffybot’s cortex now, and she took another look at Cordy’s dozing form. She gave Doyle a sideways glance.
“So...Cordelia’s actually NOT in love with...”
“NO.” he said firmly, crossing his arms. Buffybot nodded, fingering the charm.
“Maybe...maybe I should call the hotel,” she offered weakly, and started making for the phone. She was getting the distinct impression that she had goofed again.
Possibly big time.

“I never knew you could dance this well,” Angel shouted, only a few minutes ago, “...have you been practicing?”
Wesley smiled bashfully, leaning into the vampire. “Oh, it’s nothing really...you know I cut quite the rug back at the Watcher Academy.”
“It shows,” Gunn declared, pulling Wesley away from Angel and towards him, “...bet you learned all sorts of...techniques, at that place.”
“This and that,” Wesley smiled, rubbing his shoulder across Gunn’s chest.
“Sounds fascinating,”
another hand grabbed Wesley’s shoulder, this time Angel spinning him right back towards him. Into him, actually. He held the watcher tight.
“Tell me ALL about it.”

“Hello?”
Verity plugged one ear to hear the voice on her cell phone, turning her back to the bar. After a second a smile crossed her face.
“Joan! So, spill, Bella...how did it go?”

Standing in Cordelia’s apartment, Buffybot allowed a mild frown to cross her face. There had been no response at the Hotel.
“Not so very smoothly, actually,” she admitted, Doyle standing anxiously nearby. “We...I mean, my...friend, and I...think something may have gone just a teensy bit wrong. With the spell.”
Botty listened, shaking her head. “No, no, nobody’s hurt! Nothing like that! It’s just...well, the effect of the charm? It may have been a little more...proactive, I think, than we were hoping.”
Doyle sniffled. “A little? Darlin’, I’d hate to see your definition of a lot.”
Waving for Doyle to shush, Botty held the phone tighter to her ear. “Well...you see, I showed all my friends the charm, and there was this tingling? Every time, me and whoever saw the charm got all tingly! I wasn’t sure if that meant they were my true love, or if they weren’t my true love, and eventually I figured it meant they weren’t, because it seemed unlikely from a purely statistical point of view that...”
A quick interjection from Verity stopped Buffybot’s explanation. “Sorry. But afterwards, one of my friends, Cordelia, invited me to her house, which I thought was very nice, only when we got there she took off most of her clothes and asked me to have sex with her in a very insistent fashion, which considering she never even seemed that friendly towards me most of the time...not UN-friendly, you understand, she’s a super person, but...yes. It was awfully sudden.”
Buffybot let Verity ask a question. She shook her head. “No, as I understand it, her history up until this point was exclusively heterosexual. We’re a little concerned, my friend and I. I had to...restrain her, to get her to stop making advances, but I can’t locate the others who were exposed to the charm to see if they have any similar effects. I called the Hotel, but Angel and the others were...”
Buffybot paused, listening curiously. “Yes, I said Angel,” she replied, “...why do you ask?”

Verity moved closer to the bar, looking out to try and locate Angel again. It didn’t take long. A sudden wave of dread was creeping up her spine.
“Because he’s here,” she yelled into the phone, a note of urgency rising in her tone, “...Angel and two others...and Englishman and a black man. You work with Angel??”
Across the line Buffybot launched into a spiel about how no, she didn’t technically WORK with Angel, she just lived at the Hotel but tried to help out where she could, when Verity cut her off. “Whatever. The point is, they’re here. Now. At my bar. My GAY bar.”
Botty asked a question, to which Verity raised an eyebrow. “Right now? Deciding which order to mount one another from the looks of things.”
Verity listened to another quick question, her face betraying annoyance. “No, I am NOT talking about taxidermy,” she retorted, “...are you dense? These boys are practically mating right on the dance floor! We screwed up the spell! Joan, destroy the charm. Do it now.”
After a brief argument (mostly about how pretty and shiny the charm was), Verity heard a satisfying shattering on the other end.
“That’ll keep anyone new from getting infected,” she note, “...but the effects might last a few hours more or so. You’ve got to get DOWN here! People under a love spell can be deadly...single-minded. And I can just about guarantee these boys are a few minutes away from doing something they’ll seriously hold against you.”
Verity listened anxiously. “Okay, fine, find this ‘Fred’ and straighten him out...God, that didn’t come out right...but then get over here! If Angel gets out of hand, I don’t know if we can deal with him. Hurry!”

“I will...don’t worry! I’ll fix all of this, I promise! You watch!”
Buffybot hung up, and Doyle stared expectantly towards her. She looked mildly frantic...exceptionally so for a robot.
“So what’s the story?” He asked. “What’s this about Angel and the gang?”
“They’re at Verity’s bar, Pink Sunshine” Botty relayed, “...she says they’re becoming quite...ummm...naughty, it seems. With one another. And Dancing. And possible mating. A little.”
Buffybot waited as Doyle let that sink in. He looked over at Cordelia.
“Oh, you can’t be serious...”
“I think we may have made a slight error when we cast that spell,” Buffybot said, again demonstrating her mastery of understatement, “...instead of finding my romantic match, it seems to have turned people...”
“Queer as folk?” Doyle let out a long sigh, scratching his head. “Gotta say, doll, this isn’t the sort of swashbuckling heroics I was expecting on my second tour. So what’s the plan? How do we turn this into a embarrassingly hilarious memory already?”
“Verity is going to try and watch out for Angel, Wesley and Gunn,” she explained, “...I have to try and find Fred first. People under a spell can be dangerous, Verity told me. She could be in trouble!”
Doyle squinted. “You said there was no answer at the Hotel..?”
“No, but I have to check there myself. There may be something...”
Buffybot paused, looking over at Cordelia herself, her face drooping. She looked down at the shards of her necklace.
“Why do I keep messing things up, Mister Doyle..?”
Doyle softened, reaching out towards Buffybot with a phantom hand. “It’ll be okay, doll. Don’t sweat it. Let’s go find Freddy, hey?”
Buffybot forced a smile and nodded, bolting for the door. Cordelia let out a garbled mumble from the couch, shifting in her sleep as the door slammed behind her guest. After a few minutes, a slightly shaky blanket raised itself off an armrest and spread out over her exposed body. On another plane of existence, Dennis rubbed his head as he tucked his hauntee in with care.
“Thought they’d NEVER leave,” he grumbled.

“Hey! Do you mind? We’re trying to...”
“Yeah, I can see what you’re trying! Why don’t you just get your undead hands off my property, man?”
“Gunn, Angel, please..! Let’s not quarrel...”
Squaring off against one another with remotely restrained passion, Gun and Angel stared each other down, a frustrated Wesley stuck in the middle. Their breath (the two of them that still performed that function) came in hot bursts, and a small circle was starting to form around them as other clubbers backed away. On the outskirts, a pair of bouncers were beginning to move closer, when they were suddenly waved off.
“You boys are on fire tonight, aren’t you?”
Verity smiled wickedly as she approached the entranced trio, a tray of drinks in her hand. She had a shred of a plan...which would hopefully, at the least, buy her enough time for Joan to get here and put that Slayer-strength she’d heard tell of to some good use, if need be. But right now the situation needed defusing, or these three lovestruck romeos were going to wind up having an orgy right here in the bar.
...which, she had to admit, would be pretty damn hot. Problem being, there was just as good a chance that they could end up killing one another in their current hyper-emotional states. And that wasn’t quite as big a turn-on.
“On the house,” she declared, holding the tray in offering. “For the best-looking men this place has seen in a while. Salud.”
Verity kept smiling hopefully while Gunn and Angel glared at each other. If they were to far gone, there might not be anything she could...
A palpable relief crossed Verity’s face when Gunn and Angel each slowly reached out for a one of the drinks on her tray. They never took their eyes off one another, however, and as soon as they had the drinks in their hand, each tried to offer it to Wesley. He started for one, but seemed hesitant to take either. She could feel the intensity ramp up for a second, and she quickly puled the third glass off of the try herself and leaned forward shoving it in Wesley’s hands.
“To your health!” she said cheerily, as Gunn and Angel fumed. They kept staring each other down as they started to drink, cautiously at first, but rapidly turning into a rather competitive race to the bottom of the glass. Verity bit her lip, and Wesley stared with rapid breathing at the contest.
They finished at the same time, each slamming the empty back onto Verity’s tray without a second thought. She laughed nervously.
“Thirsty after all, hey? Marvelous...I’ll get you a refill!”
Leaving them behind, Verity retreated back to her bar, still worried but hopeful. One of the bouncers met her halfway.
“Ver, everything all right? Those guys looked a little out of control.”
“Don’t be silly,” she said with a grin, “...everything’s fine! No problem at all.”
A crash made both Verity and the bouncer turn their heads back to the dance floor. Wesley’s glass lay shattered on the ground, as Gunn and Angel started a shoving match, and the crowd retreated further.
Verity silently recalled a few colourful curses from her youth as she turned to the bouncer with a sweet smile.
“Do we still have that trank gun in the office..?”

“She’s not here,” Buffybot announced, bounding down the stairs to the lobby floor. “No one is. The Hotel is empty.”
Manifesting near the front desk, Doyle glanced about aimlessly. “We’ll find her, doll. A ghost and a robot should be more’n enough to track one eccentric, 90-pound Texan scientist under the influence of a metrosexual whammy.”
“Maybe there are clues somewhere,” Buffybot mused urgently, scanning the lobby, “...I’ll check the telephone. Telephones can have clues!”
“Yeah,” Doyle mumbled, staring downwards, “...floors are good for that too. Check it out.”
He pointed to a small white object near his foot, which Buffybot recovered in a flash. She scanned it in no time flat.
“It’s a business card,” she explained, “...for Doctor Julie! She was very nice. And she sang well too!”
Doyle looked lost. “Fill me in here, kid...Doctor who?”
“No,” Buffybot corrected shaking her head, “...Doctor Julie. She’s a friend of Fred’s. And she’s gay!”
A moment of silence passed then, as Buffybot glanced back at the card, concentrating. Doyle waited hopefully. At length, she turned back to his expectant eyes.
“Do you think maybe SHE knows where Fred is?”

They were just finishing dessert...it looked like a white chocolate truffle or something like that, looked awful tasty...and laughing over a little spill of wine on the tablecloth. They were looking into each other’s eyes like there was nobody else in the restaurant, nobody else in the whole world. As if she didn’t even EXIST.
Huddling behind a tree across the street, Fred glared manically through the window of Les Deux Amours, shaking with an inexplicable rage. Inside, the objects of her outrage were gently holding hands and smiling, like betraying her was just the best darn thing to do ever. Like Fred hacking into her e-mail account and finding out about this little tryst wasn’t hurtful enough.
Fred dug her nails into the soft bark. “How could she DO this to me?”
Ignorant of the question just fired her way, Julie Stewart graciously received the check at her table, and her companion Stephanie went to get their coats. Fred glowered, seething with a terrible anger.
She’d show them. Once they left and got home, her and that...that hussy, Fred thought with a vicious scowl, she’d show them both.
They couldn’t play with her heart like that. It just wasn’t right.

“Look what you did!! You made him drop his drink, are you happy?”
Gunn clenched his fists. “I’ll be happy when your untanned, corpsified behind leaves me and Wes alone!”
“Why?” Angel taunted, “...afraid he’s in the mood for a REAL man?”
“Oh God,” Wesley lamented to himself, “...I just want to be held!”
“Seems to me REAL men come with a pulse. Besides, a little circulation is kinda necessary for what I got in mind tonight.”
Angel swaggered indignantly. “Hey, Vampires can do that JUST fine, pal! Something Wes will be able to tell you himself in about an hour.”
The vampire cast Gunn a satisfied smirk, and Gunn fumed right back. “Over your dead body,” he swore, but Angel just smiled.
“Over, under, maybe sideways...I thought we’d play it by ear, see what sticks.”
“Oh, that is IT!”
Without another word, Gunn hammered Angel hard with a right to the jaw, knocking him backwards and off his feet. Shouts of shock rumbled through the crowd, but before anything else could happen Gunn stepped forward and, taking Wes by the shoulders, kissed him hard on the lips.

At the bar, Verity was leaning nervously, watching everything. She couldn’t quite believe how badly she’d screwed this spell up...and hey, Joan just had to be bestest friends with a vampire, didn’t she?
Beside her, the bouncer was getting restless. “Are you sure you don’t want us to break this up?” He asked, tense himself, “...this is getting way outta hand.”
“Just give it another minute,” Verity implored, crossing her fingers. Although she was also wishing she had gone for that trank gun after all.

“I’m so glad you called me, Jules. Tonight was...great.”
Julie smiled, turning the key to open her front door. “I got some good advice from a friend,” she admitted, pushing the door open, “...and I’m glad too.”
Turning Julie lowered her eyes to Stephanie. “I missed you,” she told her, and they shared a soft kiss before stepping inside. The door closed quietly, and the outside light flickered on a second later. And for just a moment before she ducked behind another tree, it’s light reflected brightly off the head of Fred’s axe. Just for a moment.

Gunn pulled back from Wesley and they stared at one another, breathing hard. “Oh, Charles,” Wesley panted, “...I’ve wanted you to do that for so long...”
“No more waiting,” Gunn returned forcefully, running a hand along Wes’ arm, “...we’ve wasted too much time already. Tonight I’m gonna make our dreams come true.”
Wesley drifted closer. “Gunn...”
They were almost kissing again when Angel roared into Gunn from the side, sending him reeling across the dance floor until he collided painfully with the bar. Verity let out a cry of surprise and leaped backwards.
“Keep dreaming, ‘Charles’!” Angel shouted, assuming a hostile stance beside Wesley, who seemed on the verge of swooning. At the bar, Gunn shook his head and stepped away angrily.
“Should’a stayed down, Angel,” he yelled back, “...I’m gonna make dust of your...your...”
He tried to take a step forward, stumbling as he went. A moment later, Gunn seemed disoriented, woozy. He struggled to focus.
“Gonna...gonna KILL you...blood...sucker..?”
Blinking rapidly now, Gunn tried to stand straight, but just teetered dangerously. His eyes started rolling in their sockets.
“I don’t...what..?”
Letting out a last helpless breath Gunn spun half about and careened to the floor. He struggled there for a few more seconds before passing out entirely, and Verity let out a huge sigh of relief. She leaned cautiously forward, patting the small vial of sedative she’d confiscated off of some malcontent wizard wannabe’s a few nights previous, and had more recently poured liberal doses of into Angel, Gunn and Wesley’s drinks.
“One down,” she whispered, glancing at Gunn’s dozing form. She hoped quietly that Joan was faring as well with this ‘Fred’ of hers.

The light flashed on in Julie Stewart’s living room as she motioned Stephanie to the couch. Across the room a breeze made the drapes flap softly.
“I’ll grab us some drinks...Beringer okay?”
“Great,” Stephanie answered, suppressing a chill. “It’s a bit cold in here...”
Julie glanced towards the window. “Sorry...thought I’d left that closed. Just a sec.”
She crossed the room quickly, grabbing the drapes and yanking them open with a wide motion. A split second later she let out a surprised scream, when she registered the woman standing just outside, staring in and holding a tight grip on what looked like a heavy axe. Julie stumbled backwards and nearly fell on top of Stephanie before she recognized the intruder.
“F-Fred??”
Glaring into the living room with a mixture of fury and sadness, Fred watched the two women with unflinching resolve. Her knuckles went white around the axe.
“Did you think I wouldn’t find out?” She growled, as Stephanie rose and put protective arms around Julie. “Did you think this was just some GAME?”
“Fred,” Julie finally gasped out, catching her breath, “...I-I don’t understand, what are you...”
“Just a person,” Fred blurted out, a gust of wind flapping her hair over her shoulders, “...flesh and blood. Brains, bones, skin, heart. Break the heart, and the blood stops flowing. That’s the theory,”
Fred glanced down, a little despondent, at the ground, before throwing a low, vicious glare inside. She cracked a smile, pulling her axe tight to her body.
“...let’s test it.”

“Gunn!”
Wesley made to rush forward, but Angel stopped him with a quick hand, pulling him close. “Forget about him,” he said, “...he was only in the way. He was just jealous...of us. You and me.”
Angel drew Wesley in tighter, and Wesley slowly wrapped an arm around his waist. “Angel...”
Without another word, Angel leaned in and kissed Wesley strong, passionately (a few spectators would later admit to extreme jealousy themselves), and very much reciprocated. It seemed like it would go on for quite some time until Angel suddenly broke away, a troubled look on his face.
“Something’s wrong,” he muttered, growing concern in his voice, “...weak...”
“You too?” Wesley asked, running a loving hand across the vampire’s cheek, “...I have to confess, my knees are a little wobbly myself, after that...”
“No,” Angel countered, pushing himself away, “...not that, there’s...trouble thinking, I...”
“Angel..?”
Wesley tried to put a comforting hand forward, but Angel took a step back, fighting to stay alert. He girded himself, clenching his fists and gritting his teeth. At the bar, Verity was leaning anxiously forward, fingers crossed.
“Come on, come ON...”
Another few seconds passed like that, until Angel’s head suddenly flashed over to Gunn, sleeping harmlessly away by the bar. He stared for a minute, thinking through the fog in his brain, until a little light went off. He looked upwards, eyes locking with Verity who registered a quick jolt of fear and jumped back. It took an effort of will to remain calm, but she managed nonetheless. This didn’t mean anything, she told herself, she was just...
“You!” Angel swore, and Verity’s calm collapsed in a heartbeat. She was busted.
“Angel...Angel, just relax now...”
Verity started to back up slowly, but hadn’t made it even one step before Angel roared, crouching down and leaping the distance between himself and the bar in what seemed to her to be no time at all. He landed with a snarl, reaching out and grabbing her violently by the collar. She felt a wave of debilitating panic rise up as he pulled her forward hard, driving the breath from her. Where the Hell was Joan??
“You did this!!” Angel raged, nearly pulling Verity off her feet as she struggled to control her shaking. “You’re trying to keep him FROM me!”
Beside Angel, the bouncer ran up. “Hey! Let her go RIGHT...”
Stabbing out with his free hand, Angel hammered the bouncer in the stomach, doubling him over, then grabbed his arm and tossed him away like a doll. Verity watched this all happen, fighting to control her thoughts. There had to be something she could do. Anything!
“You did this,” Angel repeated, staring with unforgiving eyes at Verity, “...BIG mistake.”

Wiping a bead of sweat off of his green brow, Lorne lets out a loud breath. “Well, bless my horns ladies and gents, this little cautionary tale is looking pretty tense from over here. What’s the price of love gone wrong so far? A ghostly punch-up, a barroom brawl, two people unconscious and, by my count, no less than three imminent homicides.”
Letting that sink in, Lorne at length shrugged his shoulders.
“Meh. I’ve had worse dates.”

“...BIG mistake.”
Verity swallowed hard, breathing in big gulps. She tried to reach for a bottle, glass, anything to use as a weapon. “Angel, please...you’re not well...I can HELP...”
“Shut up!!” Angel shouted, shaking Verity roughly, “...you won’t get between us! I won’t let...”
A swift, high-pitched sound interrupted Angel’s sentence, punctuated by a short and loud impact. Angel flinched but Verity spotted it before he did...the tranquilizer dart sticking out of his shoulder. He shuddered, still maintaining his grip on Verity, but he was getting shaky. “...you cant...can’t keep us...”
Another dart struck, this time nearly puncturing Angel’s neck. He lost his grip on Verity now, and she dropped away with a gasp as Angel backed away, grabbing at the projectiles. He had barely pulled the first one out when a third struck him square in the chest.
A dazed look crossed his face and he turned, scanning the crowd with fading vision. He looked suddenly very helpless, the dart in his hands falling to the ground.
“...Wes...where are..?”
He fell to the floor a second later, unconscious before he impacted. The whole crowd inside of Pink Sunshine stood frozen, and it took Verity at least half a minute by her reckoning to start breathing again. When she did, she managed to force herself to turn and look behind, and up, to the figure on the second floor stairs holding the Trank gun.
“Jerry?”
The doorman lowered the weapon, looking down at the bartender. “I reread the memo,” he said simply.

“...Let’s test it.”
Stephanie and Julie both instinctively backed up upon Fred’s barely hidden threat, accidentally bumping up against the couch and falling on their behinds onto the cushions. They held one another tight in momentary disarray as Fred put one hand on the windowsill and started to climb inside.
She hadn’t even gotten her foot over the ledge, however, when Buffybot ran up behind her and wrapped her in a powerful grip, pulling her backwards and away from the house. She started to shout rather vehemently in protest, and Buffybot hauled her to the ground, out of sight of the now baffled women on the couch. They heard some muffled sound coming from without, and had started to cautiously peer forward when Buffybot suddenly popped her head back into view, startling them both back into the couch
“Hi there!”
She smiled as gaily (pardon the pun) as she could manage, while keeping a steady hand over Fred’s mouth. “Doctor Julie,” she continued, “...it’s very nice to see you again! Aren’t coincidences funny?”
Julie and Stephanie exchanged glances. “What...umm...what?”
That seemed like a fair enough question, Buffybot had to admit. “I’m very sorry for the intrusion,” she noted humbly, “...me and Fred were out hunting a...a Keplar beast! Molten saliva, very icky. I’m afraid Fred got a little turned around, but everything’s fine now! No more demon! Nice night, isn’t it? The moon is awfully pretty.”
Botty continued smiling, when Fred’s hand suddenly shot up, grabbing furiously for the windowsill. Buffybot snatched it, her smile never wavering, and shoved it back down out of sight.
“Fred says hello,” she noted merrily, “...we should probably be going now. Keplars occasionally leave brooding spawn about. Nothing to concern yourselves with, though. You two have a lovely evening!”
Hopping to her feet, Buffybot yanked Fred up with a swift motion and flung her across her back, kicking the axe a good distance away.
“Let me GO!! It’s not fair, it’s not fair!”
Buffybot tried to ignore Fred’s ravings, and gave Julie and Stephanie one last smile even sparing time for a wave. It never hurt to be polite, after all.
“Bye bye now!” She chirped, before turning and literally sprinting off with her somewhat recalcitrant co-worker in tow. After a few moments Jule and Stephanie started to calm down.
“What...” Stephanie started carefully, “...who the Heck was THAT?”
Julie shook her head in mild disbelief. “One of my patients,” she replied, a little uneasily. Stephanie kept staring out the open window.
“Have you considered giving her a refund..?”

Jerry ran behind the bar and offered Verity a steadying hand, and she smiled rather gratefully. “Nice shooting,” she said, getting her nerves back under control, “...I prefer my manhandling to be a little more consensual, you know?”
“But what happened? If Angel is really evil, we can’t...”
“He’s not,” Verity reassured him, “...he’s not. It’s a...long story. He should be fine by the time he wakes...”
Snapping to attention, Verity looked nervously out at the floor. “Where’s the other one?”
Jerry frowned. “Who?”
“The other! The...the English one! He didn’t drink the sedative, Dios mio, he could be...”
Before she finished Verity at last caught Wesley in her sight. He was just barely visible in a corner to the edge of the dance floor behind a table...and behind Will. Their arms were wrapped around each other’s body, and they were rather heatedly getting to know one another. Verity’s mind spun for a moment trying to figure out how to stop them.
Finally she just swept her hand dismissively, leaning sideways onto Jerry. “Oh, whatever,” she mumbled, closing her eyes wearily, “...maybe he’ll learn something.”

Buffybot kept running for three blocks straight, at last making a beeline for an empty park. Fred was kicking up a storm, and she hoped she’d be able to calm her down. She was, for the moment, just glad that Doyle had insisted on checking out Doctor Julie’s home address. He was an awfully good detective, she thought with some admiration.
But she’d have time to thank him later. Right now she had a Fred to sort out.
“What do you think you’re doing?!” Fred shouted , rather rudely, as Buffybot lowered her to a stand underneath a large tree. The run hadn’t seemed to calm her down any...Botty had rather been hoping the effects of the spell would have worn down by this time. Silly old magic. She sure should have listened to Willow as far as staying away from it was concerned.
“I’m very sorry to have carried you about so roughly,” Buffybot started apologetically, “...but I’m afraid I did something rather foolish today, and...”
“You have to bring me back!” Fred cut in, “...that girl has Julie under some sort of spell or something. We’re meant to be together, don’t you see??”
“But you’re really not!” Buffybot insisted right back, “...or at least, I don’t expect you are. You’re the one under a spell, and it’s all my fault! I’m really really sorry, but I had to track you down out here and stop you from doing anything you’d regret. I’m going to be in dutch plenty enough as it is...”
Slowly, Fred seemed to take Buffybot’s words in. She eyed the robot carefully. “You...you did all that?”
Buffybot lowered her head. “Told you it was foolish.”
Fred took a step forward. “You did all that...for me?”
“Not exactly,” Buffybot admitted, “...although I was feeling awfully confused for a time and...well, I got a dumb idea in my head...”
“That’s so sweet!”
Taking another step, Fred wrapped Buffybot in a hug that took the robot rather by surprise. She’d thought Fred was mad at her! Tentatively, she returned the gesture, rather relieved that she was taking it so well.
“I just can’t believe it,” Fred said softly, her hair brushing Buffybot’s cheek, “...to think, I almost made such a dumbass of myself with Julie!”
“It was all my fault,” Buffybot reiterated, hoping Fred wasn’t taking any of this to be...
“...when, all along, I should have seen it,” Fred continued, holding Botty tighter, “...it was YOU.”
Confused, Buffybot consulted her conversational decrypters for assistance. “I’m sorry,” she offered politely, “...WHAT was me?”
As perhaps a way of answering Fred started nibbling gently on Buffybot’s earlobe, prompting a startled reaction. Buffybot’s eyes shot wide open.
“Oh dear,” she peeped, “...Fred...I think you’re maybe still under the influence...”
“You smell so good,” Fred murmured softly, moving from Buffybot’s ear to her neck, nuzzling vigourously all the way. Beneath her ministrations, Buffybot fidgeted quite awkwardly.
“...Under the influence of the spell...oh...oh, you really should probably stop all that now...”
Fred swung her head around to face Buffybot, hands running enthusiastically up and down the robot’s back. She wore a wicked smile. “You don’t want me to stop.”
“Sure I do!” Buffybot replied instantly, nodding curtly a moment before Fred leaned in and kissed her. She froze, while Fred brought her hands up, cupping Buffybot’s neck, running through her hair, and just generally giving poor Botty the kind of trouble she’d never imagined could come of kissing.
“Still sure?” Fred asked, pulling away playfully, then starting up again less than a second later, planting tiny kisses along Buffybot’s cheek, moving dangerously downward. Buffybot could feel her emotional generators starting to play merry havoc with her other functions.
“Uh-huh...” she offered, a trifle weakly if she were being honest. She was getting terrible confused again...wasn’t doing the right thing supposed to be easy??
“Mmmmm,” Fred moaned, tugging at Buffybot’s jacket, another hand roaming towards her skirt, “...let’s see if you taste as good as you smell.”
Botty’s blushing function nearly burst an ink sac, and she realized that she was really letting this all go very much too far. Even if it did feel kind of nice and...but that didn’t matter! Not at all!! Why would she even mention a thing like that?
Resigned, Buffybot rested one of her hands on Fred’s shoulder, slipping underneath the fabric of her tee-shirt. Fred giggled as she tugged passionately on Botty’s clothes.
“That’s it, baby,” she purred, “...I can’t believe we waited so long to...”
A quick jolt of electricity from Buffybot’s offensive array cut Fred off, and less than a second later she crumpled into a heap around Botty’s feet. She just stood there, staring down at her friend lying there, out cold in the middle of a park late at night, and realized she had better contact Verity as soon as she could, to see what was happening with Angel and the others. She hoped they were all right.
“Oh,” she muttered, disconsolately shaking her head in the dim light, “...I’m a bad, bad robot.”

A quick call at the nearest pay phone got Buffybot in touch with a highly agitated, but happily safe Verity. After assuring her that Angel and crew were in no danger for the moment, Buffybot got Fred back to the Hotel and laid her down, before making her way to Pink Sunshine and collecting the by-then rousing Angel, Gunn and Wesley. The effects of the spell seemed to be effectively faded.
Aside from a quick and highly contrite apology from Buffybot, no words were spoken on the ride home.

“I was kind of hoping it was all a weird dream,” Cordelia admitted, hovering near to Angel and Fred in the lobby, “...still. Never thought I’d be grateful for a tasering.”
“Tell me about it,” Fred seconded, “...I mean, I almost...”
Lost for words, Fred blushed and lowered her eyes. “Well, I’d have had a tough time explaining THAT one to my parents, lemme tell ya.”
“At least you didn’t get pumped full of tranquilizers,” Angel grumbled, “...AND I got barred. That just doesn’t seem fair.”
Fred patted Angel reassuringly. He smiled, then glanced over at Wesley and Gunn, standing some distance apart on opposite sides of the lobby. They hadn’t said a word since arriving back (except for Wesley’s vehement insistence that ‘nothing happened!’, despite no one asking). Sighing deeply, Angel started towards them both.
“Come on, guys,” he said conciliatory, “...I don’t think we should let this...whatever, come between us. It was a spell, that’s all. We’re still us. Or...something.”
Wesley turned first, staring down at his shoes for the first moments, but slowly managing eye contact again. At the sight of Angel’s sincere gaze, he felt a reluctant grin forming.
“You’re right of course,” he admitted, starting towards Angel, hands clasped behind his back, “...it wasn’t us. Just a spell, nothing more. We can move past this. We’ve certainly been through worse.”
Angel nodded, and he and Wesley faced Gunn, who by now was facing them as well. Angel extended a hand.
“Gunn? What do you say?”
Breathing deep, Gunn took a few steps towards his teammates, keeping his head high. He looked both of them in the eye.
“No one talks about this,” he ordered simply, “...Never. Never, EVER, again. Not a word. We clear?”
There was only the briefest of pauses.
“Sounds good to me.”
“Absolutely. Yes.”
“Nothing to say, really...”
“Nothing happened!”
“Catch the fight yesterday?”
“Brutal! Very manly...violent, I mean! Grrr...”
“I’m gonna go work out.”
“Any chance of killing something this morning? I could kill something right about now.”
Across the lobby Cordelia and Fred shared a patronizing glance.
“Boys,” Cordy offered, shaking her head. “Speaking of which, I should probably get back home. I think my ghost just got a LOT more neurotic. You should get some rest.”
“In a bit,” Fred answered, turning and staring off towards the gazebo. A sudden wave of worry was filling her, and she started towards the doors.

“Buffybot? You okay?”
Outside, a very sullen Buffybot didn’t look over, just continued to brood uncharacteristically into empty space. She didn’t care much for the activity, actually, but was having trouble stopping.
“Are you angry with me?”
Before Fred could respond Buffybot carried on. “You must be. Everyone must hate me. I think I’d hate me if I weren’t me...but it’s hard to tell, actually. I don’t know what it’s like to not be me. My theoretical engines aren’t helping at all in that respect...”
“Nobody hates you,” Fred replied warmly, stepping out and seating herself on a bench opposite Buffybot. “They’re just a little...wigged. They’ll get over it.”
“I’m SO sorry,” Buffybot implored, raising her head, “...I was just confused! It was very stupid of me. If you all want me to leave the Hotel, I can have my things...”
“Don’t be goofy! No one wants you to leave...you just made a mistake, is all. And....it wasn’t all bad!”
Buffybot blinked hopefully. “No?”
“No!” Fred paused, thinking. “Okay, I’m probably gonna have to get a new GP, sure, but...hey, no one got hurt. And, to be honest...the kissing part wasn’t so bad.”
A jolt of power surged through Buffybot’s optimism generators. “Really?”
Grinning, Fred leaned forward mischievously. “Hey, I haven’t kissed anyone in, like, six years! It was kinda nice to break the stretch, one way or another.”
A huge smile started to form on Buffybot’s face, and she sat up straight. Maybe this wouldn’t have to be such a waste AFTER all!
“That’s wonderful!” She announced, and Fred beamed her a reassuring smile. A smile that was, sadly, completely misinterpreted in Buffybot’s processor core.
“So,” she carried on a little more cautious, but buoyed by Fred’s comments, “...would...would you like to continue?”
Fred made an odd face. “Continue...what?”
The little robot smiled hopefully. “Kissing, of course!”
In a flash, Fred could feel her face draining of colour. “You...I’m sorry?”
“Not in a magic way, I mean,” Buffybot elaborated, “...a relationship way! Proper kissing, you know. It’s just, I like you very much, and you seem to like me too...and we both enjoyed kissing...you’re MUCH better than the Red Faerie Princess,” Botty admitted, “...she was all tongue. It makes sense, logically.”
“Oh...oh Botty, I didn’t...that’s not what I...”
“I’m certain I could be a good girlfriend,” Buffybot added, “...Tara was a super girlfriend and I watched what she did lots! Of course, I didn’t know that I was gay before now, but I suppose I must be. Although I wasn’t aware you were too. Isn’t that great?”
“No! It’s...I’m not! Oh God, this is all going wrong...”
A look of concern crossed Buffybot’s face. “Fred? What’s...”
“Just...stop! Please, Buffybot...God, I shouldn’t have said it like that. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean...”
Fred stopped herself, taking a deep breath, and staring into Buffybot’s eyes. “I don’t think of you in...that way,” she finally said, “...I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to confuse you.”
“You...”
Buffybot halted, her head twitching just slightly this way and that, ultra-fast chatter racing between every corner of her sophisticated neural matrix. At length she made eye contact with Fred, who by now was looking extremely concerned.
“You...don’t want to be in a relationship with me?” Buffybot asked, genuinely surprised. How could she have misread the indicators so vastly? Wasn’t the kissing nice?
Confirming her mistake, Fred nodded sadly. “I’m sorry,” she repeated, “...you’re a good friend, Botty, and I cherish that. But...that’s all.”
The words ran around in Buffybot’s conversational processors. “I see,” she replied, trying her best to be polite. After all, she reminded herself, it never hurt to be...
“Is it because I’m a robot?” suddenly blurted out of Buffybot’s mouth, and Fred raced to answer.
“No, no!” She stressed a little too loudly, “...not at all! Robot is great! It’s because you’re a girl, I swear!”
The smile got shoved back onto Buffybot’s face, as she chastised herself for pressing the issue. “I see,” she said, ordering herself to drop the matter now before she and her silly emotions made things any...
“But that isn’t fair!” She suddenly declared, “...I can’t do anything about either of those things!”
Buffybot stared imploringly forward, and Fred just sagged where she sat.
“Buffybot...I don’t know what to say. I...”
“No,”
Buffybot said the last word forcefully, suddenly rising to a stand. Fred watched her anxiously. “No, I’m sorry,” she continued, a mask of calm falling over her features, “...my newer superstructure is more susceptible to magic than previously. I think I may be still experiencing some aftereffects of the spell. I should go for a walk to let them clear my systems. Excuse me.”
Buffybot started to turn mechanically, and Fred reached out for her. “No...Botty, please, don’t go. You don’t have to...we can TALK...”
“I’m very sorry to have bothered you,” Buffybot answered in a monotone, accessing a winning smile from her facial database. “Have a nice night!”
“Buffybot, please...”
But she didn’t listen or at least, didn’t let on that she did, turning and marching smartly out of the gazebo and back inside the Hotel. The door feel shut behind her, and Fred felt her heart sink in her chest. I just spent five years in caves, she thought despondently, how am I the one qualified to help the gender-confused robotic lifeform?
Gazing upwards into the still-dark sky, Fred issued a silent prayer.
“Please be okay,” she whispered. She hoped that someone was listening.

Lorne slumped on his stool, nursing the second half of a seabreeze. “Well, I don’t know about YOU,” he relayed glumly to the audience, “...but that bummed yours truly right out. Seriously, do the words ‘happy ending’ not exist anymore? I need some Breakfast at Tiffany’s, and stat!”
The audience seemed to agree, and Lorne started walking along the stage edge. “Well, it looks like our girl still has a way to go before finding that true love we keep hearing about...personally, I wish the little sparkplug all the best.”
Supportive applause rings out, and Lorne allows himself a fond smile. It fades quickly.
“Of course, being in the position I am, I tend to know a little bit of what’s coming next,” Lorne lets slip, letting out a long, dark sigh. He shakes his head.
“And brother...she’s gonna need all the luck she can GET.”

Verity hadn’t been too surprised when she got the call, despite the hour. She’d made the offer to Joan when she came by the club to collect her lost boys...figured the girl would need someone to talk to...hell, she could use the same thing Verity thought, waiting for Joan to show after buzzing her in. She was starting to feel pretty guilty for her part in tonight’s mess. And lord, how she hated guilt.
Joan’s story didn’t do much to ease that pain.
“I ruined EVERYTHING,” Botty moaned, slumping pathetically on Verity’s sofa. Across from her, Verity was re-entering the room carrying a bottle of wine and two glasses. She knew SHE needed a drink.
“Sweetie, it’s not that bad. If you want, I’ll call your friends, talk to them...I’m the one who miscast the working.”
Seating herself gracefully, Verity clinked the glasses down on a table. “Should never have tried something that advanced,” she cursed herself “...just trying to show off.”
“You were being very nice,” Buffybot maintained, “...I was the dumb one! Mister Doyle tried to warn me. He must be so disappointed...”
“Doyle?” Verity puzzled, “...who’s that? Your watcher?”
Shaking her head, Buffybot ran through all of her shortcomings again and again in her brain. “He’s my friend,” she explained, feeling lower by the moment, “...probably my only friend left now.”
“Joan, stop it. They’re still your friends! It was just a spell. Occupational hazard for them, right?”
“But then I went and goofed up everything with Fred,” Buffybot lamented, “..I was so stupid! Silly, dumb ro...slayer,” she corrected herself in the nick of time. Darn emotions...
“Hey, I’m sorry about that,” Verity offered, pouring the wine, “...but you’ll get over it. I’ve had my share of rejection too, you know.”
Verity handed a glass to Buffybot. “In fact, my latest one came from YOU, as I recall. Here, drink. I’d say we’ve earned it.”
“Thank you,” Buffybot replied automatically, taking the glass and draining it’s contents in a flash. She had no particular desire to imbibe fluids or anything right now, but didn’t want to seem an ungracious guest. She had done that enough tonight and...
“Golly!”
Buffybot snapped to attention, and her hostess looked over, curious. “Joan?”
Immediately, Buffybot started scanning the bottle of wine. Something was decidedly amiss. “That wine,” she started, having difficulty expressing what she wanted to say. But the drink was definitely having a curious impact on her system performance. “Is it..?”
“Oh, sorry,” Verity suddenly replied, glancing at the bottle, “...I brew it once a month, at this enchant-your-own place a friend of mine runs not far from here.” She paused, looking at Buffybot’s reaction. “I’m sorry, you prefer Scotch, don’t you?”
“It’s not that!” Buffybot countered, trying to closely monitor the somewhat intriguing effects the enchanted alcohol were having on her, only without Doyle’s consciousness inhabiting her shell this time. “It’s just...I’m really not that much of a drinker.”
Verity seemed a little surprised, but took it in stride. “I can brew up some tea if you like...”
“No! That’s all right...really. This is fine!”
Buffybot raised the glass and smiled, really not wanting to put poor Verity to any more trouble. Besides, what difference would it make? Just silly old alcohol...why, Spike used to drink it all the time! She was sure she could handle it fine.
Verity refilled Botty’s glass, then raised her own in toast. “To love’s labours lost,” she decreed, and Buffybot clinked glasses with a smile. It was her first toast. And darned if the wine wasn’t easing the stress on her emotional buffers already. Maybe that was why Mister Doyle was so fond of it..?
“Thank you for talking to me,” Buffybot said, sincere. Verity smiled.
“We girls have to stick together,” she noted, “...and don’t worry. Everything will be fine by morning. Life’s funny that way.”
Buffybot tried to smile...it didn’t seem so funny to her right now. But...at least she had, maybe, a new friend. That was something, wasn’t it?
She took another long gulp, registering a series of chills all along her plasmonic relay system. She giggled at the sensation.
“Neat,” she admitted with a grin, before taking another sip.

The stage lights went up, and Lorne started putting his smoking jacket on. His glass was empty.
“Well, it’s been a long night kids...I think we could ALL use a little down time. Especially our darlin’ Miss Buffybot.”
Stepping down off the stage to the main floor, Lorne wends his way towards the exit. “Of course, she’s busy learning the time honoured tradition of drowning her sorrows. Which is great in theory.”
Reaching the door, Lorne rests one green hand on the master light switches. He looks tired.
“But it’s been my experience that sorrows, more times than not, are pretty good swimmers. So I leave you with this little nugget, ladies and germs...it ain’t over ‘til it’s over.”
Pausing agonizingly over the light switches, Lorne takes a long stare right into the audience. “And when it’s over? That’s usually when it starts getting interesting.”
And the lights go down.

“Oh!”
Buffybot’s main systems turned on with a start, an she sat bolt upright in surprise. She could instantly tell that something was wrong.
She tried to access her numerous programs and subroutines, but many of them were down. Chronometer was offline, primary and secondary scans were spotty at best...EMD retrieval was being blocked all over. She struggled to access her most recent files...she could remember phoning Verity, and heading to her apartment, but...
“OH!”
Glancing down, Buffybot received another shock. She was in a bed (not hers), wearing nothing but a flimsy bedsheet, which she immediately pulled up to cover herself.
This was VERY odd, she told herself with some concern...she never ‘slept’ without clothing, it seemed highly inefficient. And where was she, even?
Threat assessment alarms started to go off, although a little sloppier than usual. Could this be a terrible plot of some villain? Was she in peril?
A terrible thought occurred to Buffybot...could it be Warren? But she’d fixed him good, hadn’t she? But if it wasn’t him, then...
Something fell across Buffybot’s left arm then, and she nearly jumped out of the bed, instantly turning to see what was there. She couldn’t believe her sensors were so out of operation that some demon or villain could get so close without her detecting him! Well, she’d show them, you better believe..no one was going to make a monkey out of HER and get...
Buffybot froze when she saw Verity, lying peacefully right next to her in bed. She was stroking a lazy finger along Buffybot’s exposed arm, her sleepy eyes just barely opened and staring up. She had an awfully satisfied smile on her face.
“Mmmm...morning, lover,” she mumbled softly, writhing across the silken sheets and stretching her body. She too, Buffybot noted, was lacking in clothing. And that’s when her logic processors started to come back online, and explain to her what was going on here.
Buffybot turned away, clutching the bedsheet tight to her chest, her face falling into the most dismally incriminating visage she had ever worn in her short life. When she spoke, it was in a barely audible whimper.
“...oh-oh...”

Lorne just flashed a wry smile as he stepped through the door, into the world.
“I believe the words you’re looking for, gang, are...

TO BE CONTINUED...

ADDENDUM
Lorne’s song is THE GAME OF LOVE, by Wayne Fontana and the Mindbenders.

Lorne is just a big meanie cynic. Tom and Katie are TRU LUV 4-EVER!!!XOXOXOXOXO

Verity first appeared in GHOST IN THE MACHINE, along with her bar Pink Sunshine.

Julie Stewart treated patient Fred in NANODEMONOLOGY.

Back to Season Two

Send any feedback to visitorium@hotmail.com

And now back to The BUFFYBOT Adventures!