The Visitor and the Buffybot Adventures Present:
Season Two - Episode OneThe In-Between Place
PROLOGUE
SUNNYDALE
Fall, 2001
Spike held one of the robot’s legs up in the firelight, sneering distastefully. He wasn’t overly fond of the Buffybot, but...
Bloody Hell. They’d had good times, hadn’t they?
“Look what those filthy buggers done to you,” he muttered to himself, tossing the limb back onto the concrete. He hoped the sight of the quartered Buffybot wasn’t getting to Dawn too badly.
“Willows slap’n paste job isn’t gonna do the trick this time,” he said, louder this time, “...robot’s done.”
He glanced over to the robot’s main torso, expecting to see Dawn...and was alarmed to notice the Buffybot’s remains were quite alone in the night. He looked around, suddenly anxious.
“Hey,” he said, alarm creeping into his voice. This was NOT a good night for anyone to be roaming the streets of Sunnydale...less they felt like ending up in as many pieces as Battlebits here, Spike thought grimly. He started looking frantically.
“Little bit?” He shouted, his voice echoing in the empty lot, “...DAWN!”
There was no answer, and he shouted the name again. Nothing. Spike cursed himself for taking his eyes off of her. He wouldn’t let anything happen to her. He wouldn’t fail her again...not again.
In a flash, Spike bounded over the Buffybot’s silent torso and kickstarted his stolen motorcycle. A second later he was peeling away in desperate search for his charge, leaving the Buffybot alone and offline in the harsh and empty night.
Long minutes passed. The fires set by Razor and his gang continued to burn around Buffybot’s shattered form, offering themselves as a grim beacon. For a time, all that could be heard in the lot were the distant screams and bellows of a city under siege...until a curious clacking noise started up, approaching Buffybot. If she had still been active, she would have been able to see, after a moment, a bizarre sight indeed.
It was a machine, no question about that. Only about 18 inches high, the odd robot gleamed in the flickering firelight, crawling speedily along on six octopoid limbs. It was studded with numerous antennae and scanning contraptions of nearly alien construction, and it moved with inhumanly fluid precision. It clacked and clicked across the huge lot, coming to a halt when it reached Buffybot’s main torso. Something that vaguely resembled it’s head extended out from it’s body, seeming to examine the fallen robot before it.
At length, a small dish on the machine’s back whirred and repositioned itself, and a mechanical voice started issuing forth from the robot.
“Massive structural damage,” it said efficiently, “...all systems offline. Reboot unlikely.”
“Never mind that,” a human voice from nowhere visible answered back, “...just collect the girl’s memory and programs. Be quick...it’s a dangerous night.”
“Commencing retrieval,” the machine replied smartly, anchoring itself with two of its limbs, as the others went to work accessing one of Buffybot’s dataports. It hummed for a moment, making the odd clicking noise as it worked. Finally, it spoke again.
“Hard drive badly damaged,” it reported, “...multiple memory files have recently been erased. Widespread data corruption.”
“Use the Quantum Scanner,” the voice answered calmly, “...you’ll find what we need. Swiftly now.”
“Engaging.”
An orange light flickered along the machine’s limbs, sweeping inside Buffybot. It chugged along as if it were siphoning gasoline until, about thirty seconds after it had started, the light died off and the machine removed it’s protruding limb from Buffybot’s port.
“Operation successful,” the machine reported blankly, “...memories and main programs retrieved. Physical salvage beyond this unit’s capabilities,” it pointed out. The voice seemed unconcerned.
“Leave the shell,” he said, “...it’s of no further use to us. Or anyone. Come on home...and stick to the shadows.”
“Stealth mode engaged,” the machine said, it’s outer shell appearing to darken as it darted away from Buffybot and made for the nearest alleyway. All fell silent once more.
Another long stretch passed, hours. The distant screams were dying down, and a trembling calm was falling upon the beleaguered town. The fires were dying, and the first streaks of sunlight could be seen, glowing on the horizon. Buffybot’s blank face continued staring upwards, eyes set in a permanent stare, seeing nothing.
It was, thus, of total irrelevance to her when the wiry, black-skinned demon stood overtop her remains and reached a powerful clawed hand down, gripping her by the back of her neck. With a grunt, he hefted her torso skywards, until he could look into those dead eyes himself. A snarl formed on his grotesque mouth, and a short man with a rugged face walked up behind the creature.
“Don’t damage it,” he said, eliciting a harsh laugh from the demon, “...more than it already is, I mean. I’ll call the man, let him know.”
Reaching into his jacket pocket, the man yanked out a cell phone and looked about, making sure again that he and the demon were alone. He dialled and put the phone to his ear, staring happily at the shattered remnants of Buffybot as they dangled from the demon’s inhuman grip.
“...we’ve got number 96.”
SOMEWHERE ELSE...
Buffybot opened her eyes in a flash. A sudden jolt seemed to go through her, and she had the most curious sensation of having just fallen a great distance. Thoughts jumbled together in her brain like flakes in a snowglobe. Something was wrong. She sat bolt upright.
“Dawn!” she shouted, and was answered only with a vague, empty echo all around her. She remembered, slowly...
Dawn had been here, of that she was certain. She had tried to talk to her, about...what? She’d been having trouble talking, or something. It was awfully fuzzy.
Buffybot glanced around her. She was in a huge lot...there were huge piles of debris about her. The ground was crisscrossed with motorcycle tracks....that seemed familiar, she noted. Motorcycles...
Demons on motorcycles? Was that it?
Buffybot smiled. Yes, that WAS it! Demons were attacking, breaking things and being generally unpleasant, and they rode motorcycles. Very loud and nasty ones. Buffybot had fought them!
But...something had been wrong with her, she recalled. She wasn’t fighting very well, and she kept trying to return to Willow...was she programmed to do that? She didn’t think so...
They captured her, she remembered. They beat her up (very ungentlemanlike), then they tied chains to their bikes and hooked them to her arms and legs. And then she had seen herself...or some other Buffy, and then...
“Oh...”
Buffybot became glum then, recalling how the demons had pulled her apart, and left her there on the pavement. Dying. She’d wondered if someone would come and fix her, but she was too badly damaged. She...
Buffybot looked forward. She looked at her feet, which were attached to her legs....which, upon even further inspection, were attached to her body. She made a quick test, wiggling her feet from side to side. A huge smile broke out on her face.
“My legs!” she cried, clapping her hands together in celebration. She then noticed something that made her even happier.
“My arms!” she shouted again, looking her fully attached limbs up and down, wiggling her fingers about playfully. Someone HAD fixed her! But who..?
Looking about again, Buffybot could see no one. Just whatever buildings were in plain sight, and those looked....different, somehow, than she thought they should look. Duller.
Climbing to her feet Buffybot tried to access her chronometer, to see how long she had been offline...she was disturbed to find herself unable to find said hardware. In fact...
“Where..?” Buffybot started to frown, as she tried with increasing effort to access her systems...ANY of them. But try as she might, she couldn’t. They just...weren’t THERE. It was, she was pretty sure, quite impossible. She pursed her lips and clenched her fists, furrowing her brow in intense concentration.
“Come on...come ON! I know you’re in there! Mapping software...situational collaters...behaviour synthesizers...they HAVE to be there! I can’t work without them!”
Buffybot grunted and strained for several seconds, to no avail. There was nothing...she couldn’t even access her main memory bank or hard drive...which was extra impossible, on account of she was already thinking ,and remembering things, which meant she WAS accessing her hard drive and main memory. And yet, she could find no sign of them. No sign of anything. It was like she was just...thinking.
She didn’t like that. Not one bit.
Determined, Buffybot pulled her shirt up over her belly, and reached around, finding the release for her stomach panel. It opened with a click, and she doubled over to peer at her internal workings for a worried moment. She seemed content at what she saw.
“Yup,” she said, satisfied, “...definitely a robot!”
She shut her tummy back up and fixed her shirt, looking up into the sky for some indication of the time of day. She’d assumed it was night at first, because of how dark it seemed all around. When she looked, though, she was no longer so certain. The sky was a uniform gray, as far as her eyes could see (not as far as usual, without access to her magnification capabilities). No moon...no sun. No clouds, even. Not a proper sky at all, really.
Yes sir, Buffybot decided, something fishy was going on. And not the good kind of fishy.
“I’d better get myself home,” she announced, figuring that was the best plan of action under the circumstances. She needed to find out what was wrong with her. And she wanted to thank Willow for fixing her up so well! It had to have been Willow that fixed her, she figured...what else could explain it?
Working as best she could without navigational software anymore, Buffybot somehow managed to get herself pointed in the right direction for the Summers home and took off at a brisk walk.
She kept her eyes and ears peeled (oh, what a look she had given Willow the first time she’d heard THAT expression! Buffybot grinned at the memory) for any sign of her demon-biker tormentors...she sure owed them a biff or two! Wouldn’t they be surprised to see her all in one piece again. And this time they wouldn’t get off so easy.
Buffybot smiled confidently as she strode along the sidewalk towards home, although her smile slowly began to fade as she went. At first it had seemed all quiet...what her friends would have referred to as ‘too quiet’, especially since the city was supposed to be under attack by demon goons. But after a few minutes, she began to notice a noise...or noises...she wasn’t sure if they’d always been there and she just hadn’t noticed, or if they’d just begun. It was like a moaning, she thought, or a whole LOT of moaning, like the town itself was having mild stomach cramps. There was also a low whistling, like wind drifting through alleys...except Buffybot didn’t notice any wind.
It was starting to very much bother her (even without access to her logic processors, Botty could tell that something was very wrong), when she finally caught a glimpse of someone. She’d been walking for what she guessed was about ten minutes without seeing anyone at all, when out of the corner of her eye she spotted someone running a few blocks away. Immediately, Buffybot turned and ran after the person, worried he/she might be being pursued by one of the demons
Also, she had to admit, maybe they could explain to her what was going on with Sunnydale. Was it under some magic spell? She really had to find Tara and Willow.
Willow. Something about her suddenly gave Buffybot cause for concern as she ran...
Had Willow done something to her? Something...bad?
Shaking that thought off for the moment, Buffybot rounded the corner she had seen the person running along and came to a halt, looking about. She saw no one. No one at all.
“Hello?” she shouted, a little frustrated, “...is anybody out there?”
A slight echo was Buffybot’s only reply, and she was alone again in the city. A glum frown crossed her lips. She decided she’d had quite enough of being alone for one night. Even a demon-biker would be a welcome sight right now.
Still...maybe they were all gone. Maybe her friends had beaten them, and now they were all sleeping! Big fights can make humans sleepy, Buffybot noted, the same way they sometimes required her to recharge. That seemed a logical thought, and with renewed enthusiasm, Buffybot set off once again for her home. Quite unaware of the eyes settled on her, high above in the colourless sky.
Botty thought it took her about an hour to make it back home...she wasn’t sure how to gauge time without her trusty chronometer, though. It had been a slightly troubling walk. Several more times she had glimpsed someone, but been unable to catch up or make contact. And there were creepy noises, too. More than just the regular moaning (which, she reminded herself, was not regular at all!). She’d definitely heard a scream, and it frustrated her that she couldn’t discover it’s source. Someone might need her help!
But the truth of it was, she wasn’t functioning properly, and she didn’t understand much of anything about the situation she found herself in. She needed help. It was with a great smile of relief that she walked up her front steps and peered eagerly inside. The house was dark.
That made sense, she thought. Sleeping works best in the dark, or so she understood.
A quick check in her pockets brought a frown to Buffybot’s face, as she noticed for the first time that her housekeys were missing. She didn’t want to ring the doorbell and wake everybody up! If only she could access her files on local laws, maybe it would be all right if she picked the lock.
Buffybot made a tentative turn of the knob, just to double-check...and was rather surprised when the door pulled right open! That wasn’t right, she knew...doors should always be locked in Sunnydale, especially during massive demon sieges! Safety first, after all.
Buffybot entered as quietly as she could, not seeing anyone in the immediate vicinity. Probably all tucked in their beds, she hoped, but she would check and make sure. She locked the door behind her and carefully padded up the stairs. She thought she could hear voices, something that made her smile. She was tired of being alone tonight.
The voices seemed to die off before Buffybot reached the top of the stairs...she wondered if they had heard her creeping. Maybe it was Willow and Tara, and they thought she was an intruder! Goodness, Buffybot thought, that wouldn’t do at all. She certainly didn’t want to spook her friends.
“Willow” she said, whispering, “...Tara? It’s me! Buffybot. I’m home!”
Buffybot waited a moment, but there was no answer. She padded a few feet further, reaching the door to Willow and Tara’s room. She knocked softly.
“Are you in there?” she asked, still whispering, but louder now, “...I don’t mean to intrude. It’s been an odd night, and I think I may be malfunctioning! I’m having awful trouble accessing my systems...”
There was still no answer, although Buffybot thought she heard a scuffling noise of some sort behind the door. Someone MUST be inside, she reasoned. Gently, she turned the knob and pushed the door open. She just hoped Willow and Tara weren’t...you know, snuggling...because, gosh, that would be AWFULLY...
Buffybot stopped and stared. The room was deserted. No Tara, no Willow...no people at all. Just furniture, and darkness.
That perplexed Botty. She’d been sure she had heard something, but there sure didn’t seem to be anyone home. Just the bed, where Willow had sat her to delete her memory so they could...
Buffybot reeled involuntarily as the memory hit her like a hurricane. She remembered.
Willow had been pretending to fix her, but...she was really going to break her insides, make her dumb...less alive. Alive?
No, no, Buffybot told herself, shaking her head. None of that makes any sense. Why would Willow do something like that to her? She was her friend! She fixed her!
Desperately, Buffybot tried to remember more. She recalled Willow being very upset, and that she had told Buffybot something very exciting...a spell she was going to cast. She was going to bring Buffy back...the really real Buffy.
“I remember!” Buffybot exclaimed aloud, forgetting herself for a moment in her glee. Willow was going to bring Buffy back to life! THAT must have been the other Buffy she’d seen when the bikers broker her so badly. Then it had worked...
“Wow,” Botty said with an impressed smile, “...Willow really IS the best witch ever!”
That was why she had done those things to her, Buffybot recalled...now remembering that she herself had ASKED Willow to do them to her! How silly she’d been, thinking Willow would be mean to her for no good reason. Bad Buffybot! Willow had no choice...they couldn’t bring Buffy back unless her friends would let Buffybot be sac...
Buffybot froze as she remembered the unpleasant condition Willow had been given for reviving Buffy. Then, in her mind’s eye (or however it was she was retrieving information just now) Buffybot recalled her destruction by the demons. She had lain there, broken, alone, and Dawn had spoken to her, and then everything got dark, and...
“Oh dear...”
With a curious feeling rising inside her, Buffybot turned and fled from Willow and Tara’s room and darted down the hall to her own room. It had originally been Buffy’s room, of course...she should be back there now, right? If she’d come back from the dead and all, she’d want a nap! That made sense! She would open the door and the real Buffy would be in there.
Almost crashing into it, Buffybot barely managed to open the door as she barrelled along the hall. The room was like Willow and Tara’s...empty. Buffybot glanced about anxiously, but saw no one. Where was everyone? Where was Buffy? Where was...
“Dawn?”
Buffybot turned and made for Dawn’s room, no longer worrying about waking anyone. She just felt a very urgent need to find someone, anyone. The thoughts in her head were disturbing her, and she needed someone to tell her she was wrong. She needed her friends.
Arriving, Buffybot flung the door to Dawn’s room open, staring in wide-eyed and eager. A huge smile sprang up on her face at the sight that greeted her.
“Dawn!” She shouted happily, watching as her little pretend sister rolled out of bed in her PJ’s, yawning loudly. Her bare feet touched the floor, and Buffybot thought she might bust from being so relieved.
“Oh Dawn, I’m SO glad to see you!” She said, although Dawn seemed still a bit too groggy to acknowledge her, “...I got all broken? And then I wasn’t broken any more, and the sky was all gray and I started thinking I might be...but that was just silly of me, and now here you are! Are you all right?”
Buffybot stared expectantly, but no answer came. Instead Dawn stretched her arms wide and shook the sleep out of her body, then started walking towards the door, and Buffybot. The robot beamed, opening her arms wide for a hug.
“Poor Dawnie,” Botty said sympathetically, “...you must be all pooped after a night of noisy demons. Don’t worry...all good robots are programmed for hugging!”
Buffybot kept on smiling as Dawn walked straight into her...the smile fading when the teenager sailed right through her as if she...although which ‘she’ Buffybot couldn’t guess at the time...wasn’t even there at all. Botty spun about, and saw Dawn walking quietly on down the hallway for about a second, until she suddenly faded and vanished from sight. Buffybot’s eyes widened with sudden concern.
“Dawn?” She shouted, “...Dawn, where did you go? Dawn!”
Buffybot spun about in the hallway, having to rely on her visual scans (if she could even call them ‘scans’ now) to try and track down her wayward friend, to little avail. She desperately plumbed her memories, trying to recall if Dawn had any sort of penchant for vanishing. Was this a ‘key’ thing? She’d never been exactly 100% on that whole concept...
“Dawn?” She called out again, becoming a little upset now, “...Dawn, please come back! My scanners aren’t functioning, and I can’t find anyone, and I’m...I got fixed? But I’m not sure I got fixed RIGHT. Nothing is like it’s supposed to be. I’m becoming kind of...concerned.”
Staring down the empty, gray hallway, and listening to the dull echo of her voice across it’s lonely walls, Buffybot tried to get her words right, although she was not entirely sure it mattered. But she still thought she should get it right. If she could.
“I’m a little worried,” she said cautiously, very much hoping that someone would hear her next words and tell her she was wrong, dopey...anything. Anything but right.
“...I’m not exactly sure I’m...alive, anymore.”
Shortly after that incident, and once she had calmed herself a tad, Buffybot had resolved to march herself downstairs and wait patiently in the living room for someone to come home. What a silly robot she was, thinking such goofy thoughts! Dead robots don’t walk around...there was, however, certainly some kind of magic at work. She’d tried to telephone the Magic Box, but there was no dial-tone on any of the telephones, just a sort-of creepy hum. She’d just wait here for a while, she told herself, and eventually someone would be by to explain things. That was logical.
Today, however, logic seemed to be taking it’s sweet time. Buffybot wasn’t sure how long she sat there on the couch, but she was sure it was at least four or five hours of absolutely nothing. She tried her best to think happy thoughts during that time...she recalled playing ‘Trouble’ with Anya and Dawn one time. She giggled at the memory...if only more things in the world were pop-o-matic! Ooo, and then she remembered the first time she’d gone patrolling all on her lonesome, and she had saved a young boy from two vamps. Golly, but she’d been proud of that! She had come home all excited, and Tara gave her a big hug as congratulations.
Buffybot pouted, despite herself. She wished Tara were here now...she was always so nice and friendly, and she’d know what was going on. At the very least, she’d have someone to go out for biscotti with...
Worrying that she might be edging near pessimism, Buffybot gave her head a shake and stood up. Enough sitting around, she decided. She’d make her way to the Magic box and look for her friends there, and get to the bottom of all this hooey. There must be some perfectly rational explanation for all of this.
Arming herself with a peppy smile, Buffybot was about to march herself out the door when someone began approaching from the dining room. Botty stood and stared in something like wonder as the familiar face started moving rapidly towards her, eyes steeled in anger. It was...her! Or at least it looked very much like her. Buffybot recalled Willow’s plan, and a new thought occurred to her.
Maybe it was...
“Buffy?”
The Slayer didn’t answer and, before Buffybot could ask again, shot out with her fist directly at Buffybot’s head. The blow passed harmlessly through her, but Buffybot’s anticipatory reactions had her stumbling backwards anyhow, and she started falling backwards . She watched helplessly as ‘Buffy’ faded away even as she fell, finally landing with a thud on her butt.
“Ow!”
Buffybot suddenly froze. Her eyes locked in a look of wonder combined with dread as the alien sensation passed through her body and faded as quickly as it had acted up. She was starting to get worried again.
“...ow?” she repeated softly, slowly peering down and straining to get a better look at her tush. She stared at it in bothered fascination, as if it might try and bite her. She tried to remember exactly what it was she had just...felt?
Yes, she realized, that was the right word. She had FELT something...something that made her say ‘ow’.
This was getting worse by the second, Buffybot thought.
“What do I mean, ‘ow’?” Buffybot demanded, scrambling to her feet in a hurry, “...I don’t ow! Robots don’t ow, not at all! No ow!”
It’s a glitch, she told herself firmly, it must be a glitch. Like the one that was preventing her from accessing her systems. And that kept making her see people who suddenly disappeared!
Buffybot frowned. That was, she had to admit, one heck of a glitch. Although the alternative...
Without wasting another moment, Buffybot turned and ran for the door, slamming it behind her.
The streets were as gloomy and gray as Botty had remembered them being earlier. Nothing had changed...no sun had risen in the sky, no moon glistened up above. It was just gray.
She made her way dutifully towards the Magic Box, a trip that seemed to her to be taking a much longer time than usual. She still caught the odd glimpse of someone moving by, but she no longer ran after them. She would stick to her course, and that was that. No spooky distractions for THIS robot!
A smile crossed Buffybot’s lips at that thought, which she deemed quite positive. She enjoyed the sensation of doing her duty, even if it was as simple a duty as going to the shop to find her friends. Duty was what good robots did! And she was starting to think that it was very important for her to try and be good, if she was glitching as...
Botty turned a corner, and stopped in her tracks at the sight that greeted her. People...two of them, in fact, the first time she had seen two people at one time since she woke up in the lot. She waited a moment, watching them from some distance, waiting to see if they were going to vanish right away. They did not. They were, however, doing something else of note.
Buffybot couldn’t help but stare for an unrestrained moment as the pair, a man and a woman, pressed up against the gray wall of a nearby store and...and the man was putting himself into...and the woman was...
Botty felt another odd sensation passing through her as the soft moans of the couple started reaching her ears. Had THIS been what it looked like when she and Spike had been...together?
“I...” she started to say, stammering a little, although the man and woman paid her little heed. Clothes were now hitting the ground, and even though she couldn’t access them, Buffybot was positive her privacy protocols were scolding her something awful right now.
“I’m sorry!” She blurted, lifting a hand to cover her eyes, and glancing sideways to find another way to go. “I’m so sorry! Pardon me!”
The only response Buffybot got was a loud shriek and a few sweaty grunts, and she started making a quick dash for a nearby alleyway. She was almost there when, for a reason she couldn’t quite explain, she parted two of her fingers and took another peek. The woman was down on the ground now, and the man was...he had taken off his...and he was...
Immediately, Buffybot shut her eyes and bolted for the alley. “I’m very sorry!” She shouted awkwardly before successfully getting off of the street. She ran down the alley until she emerged onto the other block, stopping there and leaning up against a wall. She felt...weird.
She couldn’t figure out a name for whatever it was...since she was not, she was certain, supposed to be ‘feeling’ anything at all. She wasn’t even sure that’s what she was doing now, having never done it before...surely this was some nasty spell! It must have affected the whole city, she realized...that’s why the sky was gray, and people were having crazy, random sex in public! That...they weren’t supposed to DO that!
Buffybot tried to shut the image out of her head. It was making her awfully...uncomfortable? That might be right. It was bothering her, that much was sure. And without her scanners she couldn’t be certain, but Botty could have sworn that her internal temperature readings must be rising...
A small scratching noise broke Buffybot from her distracting thoughts, much to her relief. It took her a moment of looking about to find the source...she hoped it wasn’t more naughty people. It was not.
What it was, or at least appeared to be to Buffybot’s judgement, was a small, slightly demonic bird.
Botty squinted at the bizarre creature as it waddled along the concrete sidewalks, pecking idly at the stones with it’s oversized beak. It was featherless and mildly orange in hue, so far the most colourful thing Buffybot had seen since awakening. It looked to her something like an oversized baby chick, except that it sported winglets more like a bats than a chickens. The eyes on either side of the creature’s head were large and darted about in a bizarre, spontaneous way. Buffybot wondered if they weren’t pop-o-matic.
“Caw-aaaa”
That was more or less the sound that gurgled out of the bird-thing’s beak as it wandered along, and Buffybot couldn’t help but smile. In it’s own way, the thing was awfully cute...it sort of reminded her of Pudding, actually.
“Pretty bird,” Buffybot cooed, drawing the bird-thing’s sudden, google-eyed attention. It stared at her (and beside her and overtop of her...those bobbing pupils of it’s sure did get around) in fascination.
“Coo?”
Buffybot brightened. “Hi there, birdie!” She chirped, extending a waving hand towards the creature, “...aren’t you a cute little fellow! Do you talk?”
“Barble-arble” was the only sound forthcoming in response, which Buffybot politely took as a ‘no’. Still, it was a pleasant enough seeming creature, not in immediate need of slaying. She did, however, wonder what it was doing roaming the streets of her town. Perhaps it was a mascot of the demon-bikers?
“Come here, pretty birdie,” Buffybot continued to sooth, crouching down and trying not to startle the little bird-thing, “...it’s awfully strange out tonight...or today....whichever it is. You shouldn’t be toddling off on your birdie lonesome.”
After appraising the figure before him for a few moments, the bird-thing took a few halting steps in Buffybot’s direction. Botty grinned and waggled her fingers, and a moment later the bird-thing gave it’s dark wings a hearty flap, and it lifted up off the ground. Buffybot started back, until the creature fell down again almost a quick as it had risen, landing with it’s odd feet on Buffybot’s outstretched arm. Adjusting to it’s weight, Buffybot rose to a stand and smiled at the weird creature.
“There now!” She said happily, “...now we can go and find my friends together! Won’t that be fun, pretty bird?”
As if in some demonic, avian sort of answer, the bird-thing started nuzzling Buffybot’s arm with it’s enormous beak, almost playfully. Botty thought it was terribly cute. Then it reared it’s beak open, revealing a healthy row of sharp, serrated teeth, and promptly chomped down hard on the offered limb.
It dug in deep, and Buffybot frowned at it, thinking that was an awfully unfriendly gesture for a birdie guest to offer up, even a demon birdie. She only thought that for a split-second however. It was after that time that she started to feel the effects of the bite.
This time, ‘ow’ wouldn’t quite cover it.
“AAAAAH!” Botty tensed up, intense pain...and it WAS pain, she was sure of that now...exploding out of her arm and throughout her body. She tried desperately to shake the bird-thing off her arm, but it was dug in good. Buffybot screamed again.
“Aaaaaa....p-please....let GO! Please...OH! AAAAA!! No, nonono...PLEASE!”
In panic, Buffybot threw herself backwards, slamming both herself and the bird up against a wall. The bird finally let loose it’s bite then, flapping it’s wings and bobbing away from Buffybot in annoyance.
“Barble-arble-arble!” it cawed vehemently, before turning and sailing away into the gray night. In it’s wake, there remained only poor, distressed Buffybot, painfully holding her damaged arm and wailing despondently.
“Aaaaaa....oh, please, what’s...h-happening? What’s....AAOOWW!!”
Buffybot fell to her knees as the wound acted up again. Having never before experienced actual physical pain, it was becoming rapidly apparent to Botty that she, as a result, had absolutely no tolerance for it. Her head throbbed and she doubled over. She didn’t even notice that tears were streaming down her face.
“Please...” She whimpered, curling up into a fetal ball on the empty sidewalk, cradling her arm as best she could and shuddering terribly,
“...s-somebody...HELP me...”
Without realizing that someone had, in fact, heard her last plea, Buffybot blacked out.
When Buffybot reopened her eyes, she was disappointed to discover the world around her was still the same dull gray pallor she remembered it as. She’d hoped maybe it had all been some weird dream....she could have dreams, sometimes!
Well, once, anyways. She sure wished all THIS was just a dream.
Slowly, Botty lifted herself up. Her cheeks were moist and hot, and made a small puckering sound as she peeled her face off the pavement. She tried to be extra careful with her arm, although to her relief it seemed to not be hurting any more. She didn’t like pain, she thought with harsh conviction, not one tiny little bit!
Clambering to a shaky stand, Buffybot wiped her cheeks with her hand...why were her cheeks wet? She wondered. Had it rained while she was...
“So,”
The voice came from behind Buffybot, and she spun about quickly, assuming a defensive stance. She thought she recognized the voice (without audio recognition access? How could that be?), and a look confirmed it. But that....that wasn’t possible.
“...are you the genuine article, then?” The man asked, staring very curiously indeed at Buffybot, arms folded over his chest. He wore a black suit, and wore it well. A half-smile formed around his bearded mouth.
“Or have we met before? Seein’ as how you’re not fadin’ away or nothing.”
“Ramsay!” Buffybot instinctively shot out a fist, hammering Ian Ramsay slightly lopsided (she was still a little shaky), right on the left cheekbone. He bellowed, reaching a hand up to his face as he stumbled back a few paces.
“OW!” he shouted angrily, shaking his head, “...what’d ya do THAT for, you loony hen?”
If Ramsay had been expecting an explanation straightaway, though, he was disappointed. He glared back at Buffybot, who was rather painfully now cradling her fist in her other hand, and hopping about in obvious discomfort.
“OW!” she screamed, mirroring Ramsay’s own exhortation, “...owie ow OW! Ow ow ow ow ow...”
As Buffybot shook her aching fingers out, Ramsay’s face curled into a somewhat contemptuous sneer, and he straightened himself up. “Okay, this is starting to get embarrassing,” he said, in the general direction of Buffybot, “...you didn’t even hit me that hard!”
“It HURTS!” Buffybot protested, holding her hand once again and glaring at Ramsay, who looked astonished.
“Well I hope you’re not waitin’ for ME to apologize! You did the hittin’, you’ll recall?”
“But...” She began, not entirely sure what to say. Everything about the situation was really, really wrong. “But you’re a bad guy! A dead bad guy! I’m SUPPOSED to hit you, aren’t I?”
“There’s logic for ya,” Ramsay said derisively, “...if I’m dead, there isn’t much point left in pounding me, is there? Rather rude, actually.”
“I...” That caught Buffybot by surprise, and she grew sombre. “I didn’t mean to be rude,” she admitted. Ramsay sniffled.
“As y’say,” he offered, sizing her up. “But the initial question stands, donnit? Which one are you? The Slayer...or the machine? Or is there a third one I dinna know about?”
Buffybot stared back at Ramsay...none of this made any sense to her. She’d watched this man kill himself...she’d buried him with her own hands. How was he standing here talking to her now? Unless...
“I’m Buffybot,” she finally admitted, deciding that there was little to be gained in fibbing. Ramsay already knew about her existence, anyways. And she needed answers.
“Thought as much,” Ramsay said, his brow creasing in concentration. He took a step forward. “Now how the heck did you..?”
“Don’t..!”
Buffybot took a quick step backwards, putting her arms up defensively. Ramsay stopped moving, and Buffybot fixed him with a worried stare.
“Don’t hurt me,” she said quietly, and Ramsay was surprised to hear that she meant it. She wasn’t begging him, not exactly...but he could tell she was scared. His confusion was starting to approach her own, and he backed up.
“I’m not gonna hurt ya,” he said, sounding sincere, “...no point in that, hey? I’ve got nothin’ left to gain. You saw t’that yourself.”
Buffybot started to puff herself up a little, already regretting her inadvertent ‘don’t hurt me’ remark. She was making herself look like a big wimp, she realized, and that wouldn’t do. She just wished...
She just wished she was wrong about what she thought was happening.
“Then you ARE dead,” she ventured slowly, “...this isn’t some time-travel scheme of yours?”
“I make plans, not schemes,” he corrected, “...and of course I’m dead! Blew my wily brains out all over the greenery, unless you’ve forgotten. Why do you think I’m here?”
“Here?” Buffybot asked, peering about her gray, yet familiar surroundings, “...you mean Sunnydale?”
Ramsay was about to answer when, he too took a gaze about. “Hunh. So it is. Funny...I was in Scotland a moment ago...havin’a right terrible time, too. Then I saw something...something red. Suddenly, I was here. And there YOU were.”
“There I was,” Buffybot agreed, relaxing a bit from her defensive posture, “...but everything is wrong! I think someone cast a spell.” As she said it, Buffybot’s eyes widened accusingly. “It was YOU, wasn’t it? You cast spells!”
Ramsay shook his head with a mix of bafflement and annoyance. “A spell? What’re you TALKIN’ about?”
“Everything!” Buffybot shot back, stern, “...the disappearing people, the naughty public displays, everything being gray, me saying ‘ow’ all the time...just admit it, you super-creep! What’s your dastardly scheme?”
“How many times do I have to say it?” Ramsay grumbled, “...I don’t SCHEME! And I’m sure not castin’ any spells here, you silly tart. As if I could access any power in THIS place. Don’t you even know where you are?”
“I...” Buffybot hesitated, wondering if this was a trick question. “It’s Sunnydale,” she finally answered, “...right?”
Ramsay gave her a look somewhere between sympathy and stunned disbelief. “No,” he told her slowly, “...it isn’t. Look, I suppose I understand you bein’ a mite unawares. Lord knows you’re the LAST person...if that’s even th’right word...I expected to see here. I mean, you ARE a robot, right? Not exactly what we’d call ‘alive’, in the traditional sense.”
“I am too alive!” Buffybot argued, “...Willow told me so!”
“That so?” Ramsay leaned back, rubbing his beard thoughtfully. “Love to know how THAT came about. Hope it was nothin’ I did.”
Ramsay cast Buffybot a knowing wink, and Buffybot frowned. She hadn’t actually given much thought as to HOW she’d become alive...There hadn’t really been a lot of time to consider that. Although now that she gave it a moment, it WAS an interesting question...
“What’s the last thing you remember,” Ramsay asked, cutting off Buffybot’s inner curiousity, “...before you woke up here, I mean? Before everything faded t’gray?”
“Well,” she began, still a little nervous about talking with an enemy like this...but she wasn’t sure she had much choice. She wasn’t programmed to deal with situations of this nature. “...I was fighting some demons. They were attacking the city, and I got captured. They used their motorcycles to pull my arms and legs from my main torso.”
“Ouch,” Ramsay said, wincing, “...still. Wish I’d thought’a that.”
“I remember going offline,” Buffybot continued, not liking where her story was taking her, “...and then I was...here.”
“And you didn’t think it was just a trifle odd that your wayward limbs were just suddenly back on? All hunky-dory, as you please?”
Buffybot cast a frown to indicate her displeasure with Ramsay’s patronizing tone. No one liked a know-it-all. “Someone must have fixed me,” she said plainly, “...but...”
“But you know that ain’t true, don’t ya? I mean, really?”
“It has to be true!” She protested, balling her hands into fists, “...how else...”
“Then how d’you explain this?” Ramsay interrupted, lunging forward and grabbing a pinch of Buffybot’s arm skin between his fingers and twisting, hard.
“OW!” she shrieked, pulling away fast and cradling the spot in question. The sensation faded in moments. She glowered at Ramsay, her anger with him only tempered by the fact that she knew he was right. She couldn’t explain what was happening to her.
“You aren’t supposed to feel that, are ya?” He asked, and her scowl slowly retreated into a dismal frown. “You’ve only ‘felt’ things since you woke up here, am I right? There’s a reason fer that. And I’m bettin’ you’ve figured out what it is. Haven’t you?”
Buffybot slowly nodded, recalling her earlier thought at the house. She’d so hoped she was wrong. A wave of something passed through her. She was reasonably sure it was fear.
“I’m dead,” she finally said, “...aren’t I?”
The dead Scotsman just smiled. “Welcome to the club.”
Buffybot was depressed. She was positive of it. She’d hardly been dead long at all, and she HATED it. At least, she reminded herself hopefully, she wasn’t alone anymore. That was a good thing, right?
Even if it WAS Ramsay..?
“You got lost?” Ramsay stared back at Buffybot with humiliation on his face. “THAT’S all my big muckty spell did to ya?”
Buffybot nodded offhandedly as she and her former enemy walked through the gray, empty streets of ‘Sunnydale’. She was indulging Ramsay in a few questions, hoping that she would get her own chance soon. She had lots to ask.
“Well, that’s embarrassing,” he muttered, shoving his hands in his pants pockets, “...I mean, I didnae want to destroy ya or nothin’, but...lost? What’s next? Dastardly Ramsay makes his foes forget where they parked their car? Evil spell causes heroes to not have proper change for the bus? No wonder I failed.”
Buffybot glanced at Ramsay. “It was awfully distressing for me,” she reassured him, then asking, “...You didn’t want to destroy me..?”
“Well, no,” Ramsay said back, “...otherwise the REAL Slayer would’a just come back from wherever she was off to, right? Clever thinkin’ that, at least, right?”
Buffybot blinked a few times. “But the real Buffy was dead,” she told him, figuring it was fine to reveal that information now, “....didn’t you know that?”
Buffybot had to turn quickly when Ramsay stopped suddenly in his tracks. “She was DEAD??”
Botty nodded again, and Ramsay’s eyes popped open in epiphany. “Of COURSE she was dead” he exclaimed, “...that’s why they had you! To replace her! That makes perfect sense!”
As Ramsay ranted, Buffybot wondered quietly why he was telling her things she already knew quite well. It seemed odd, and there were lots of things she didn’t know that she’d much rather be hearing about. She decided she would interrupt, not to be rude, but just because she was really, really curious by this time. About a whole lot of things.
“I should’a figured that out...” Ramsay mumbled, staring into the distance momentarily. Buffybot stepped closer to him.
“Ramsay?” She asked, although as soon as she started talking, part of her wanted to stop. As if she really DIDN’T want the answers she was looking for. She thought it odd behaviour on her part, and persisted.
“Is this...Heaven?”
Botty waited a moment for her question to sink in, as Ramsay seemed a little taken aback by it. She was rather disappointed when his initial response was to burst out laughing.
“I mean...we’re dead, right?” she persisted, “...And that’s where you go when you die, isn’t it?”
Ramsay calmed himself. “‘Fraid not, love,” he told her frankly, “...least, not in our case. Heaven, as the name implies, is a jolly old place indeed. So I’m told. THIS place...”
Ramsay swept his arms out, indicating the gloomy landscape about himself to Buffybot.
“This place,” he continued dourly, “...is NOT jolly. You may have picked up on that with your keen robot senses, however.”
“But..!” Buffybot started to argue, pausing when she realized she had no argument to make. And a nasty thought had just occurred to her. Ramsay seemed to notice the twitchy look on her face.
“It’s not Hell neither, if that’s what you’re worried about,” he reassured her, glancing quickly about, “...don’t think you get this much free reign in the pit, know what I mean?”
Buffybot was once again confused. “But...if it’s not Heaven, and it’s not Hell, then where...”
Ramsay shrugged dismissively. “Someplace else,” he answered, “...someplace in-between. Y’might call it Limbo, I s’pose. Others have.”
“Limbo?” Buffybot asked, unfamiliar with the term. It didn’t SOUND bad...
“It’s a little like the Phantom Zone, actually,” Ramsay said with interest, “...but not the Phantom Zone in the comics. More like the version in Supergirl the movie. Did y’see that one?”
Buffybot shook her head no. Ramsay smiled.
“Didn’t miss much,” he admitted, “...although Helen Slater filled the outfit brilliantly. Of course, you did do fine yerself that time.”
That perplexed Buffybot again. “Me?”
“You remember,” Ramsay prodded, “...when I cast my chaos spell at the comic convention? And you went on the telly in that get-up of yours? That WAS you then, wasn’t it?”
Buffybot recalled the incident in question. She nodded, and Ramsay grinned.
“Caught that performance,” he said, adding, “...thought you looked dead sexy, by the by.”
That put a smile on Buffybot’s face. “Thank you! That’s very sweet.”
A few seconds of awkward silence followed, and Buffybot stared curiously at her former enemy. Should she revise her file status on him now? She wondered...except she had no file access now anyways. He was just there. Was this how it was for people?
“I have a lot of questions,” she admitted. Ramsay flashed her a grin back.
“Take your time,” he replied, “...we’ll be here for eternity, after all.”
Buffybot blinked. “Is that a long time?”
Days passed...or, they seemed to pass. Buffybot found it distressingly hard to tell, without the aid of either a chronometer OR a changing sky. Even her companion Ramsay admitted that time flowed ‘right wonky’ in this place. At least she seemed to have gotten over some of the initial shock of her arrival in this place...Not that she liked being here any better, no sir. They caught the occasional glimpse of other people, and other things, too. It wasn’t a very jolly place indeed, Botty concurred.
She and Ramsay were sitting at what looked like the Espresso Pump. She’d been mildly miffed to learn there was no Biscotti in Limbo, but she still managed a polite smile, as Ramsay told her of his experiences here before her. It was, she thought, very interesting...in an awfully grim sort of way.
“Took a while t’adjust, I’ll tell you that,” he told her, leaning back against the outer brickwork, “...’specially when I’d see someone I knew strollin’ about, plain as you like. Rattled me pretty fierce the first few times.”
Listening, Botty’s eyes went wide with surprise. “You’ve seen people too? I saw people! I saw Dawn! And Buffy...the real one, I think. But they didn’t seem to see me...”
Ramsay smiled humourlessly. “That’s this place for ya. We get all sorts’a ghosts walkin’ through...ghosts of the dead AND the living both. I saw my Mum straightaway...thought I was in Hell for sure. Screamed like a girly for hours...don’t know why I mentioned THAT part, actually...”
“Your Mother seemed like a very pleasant woman,” Botty noted, drawing a startled reaction from Ramsay, before he recalled that the robot would have indeed met his late Mother on their return to his childhood.
“...I’m sorry she died. It’s sad. Dawn and Buffy lost their Mother. Tara too.”
“My sympathies,” Ramsay noted, settling down again as a gleam nestled in his dark eyes. “What about you?”
Botty’s face scrunched quizzically. “What ABOUT me?”
“Well...what about YOUR ‘parents’? I’ve been wondering...who’s your Doctor Frankenstein? Never could figure out how those children you work with could build somethin’ like you. Or did the witches just magic you up somehow? Some sort of robo-daemon, like?”
Buffybot couldn’t help but giggle. Mister Ramsay sure had some kooky notions! “I‘m not magic, silly. I was built by a boy named Warren...he builds robots. I’m not sure how he knows HOW to build robots though.”
That gave Buffybot a momentary pause. It DID seem odd that Warren could have built her, being a high school student and all...why had she never thought of that before?
“Warren, eh?” Ramsay flicked idly at his beard. “Good lad, then? Will Magnus-type?”
“Will Magnus...He built the Metal Men, right?” Botty asked, recalling that comic from the chaos spell, and Ramsay was suitably impressed that she caught the reference. She smiled proudly, but briefly.
“No,” she admitted, “...Warren is...he’s a bad guy. He made me do bad things. But me and Pudding gave him what-for, you bet we did!”
Edging forward, Ramsay was on the verge of apologizing again for the disappearance of Buffybot’s beloved kitty when a strange whistling sound broke over the gray air. Botty peered anxiously about, quickly catching sight of something flashing across the sky. Like some sort of luminous inkblot that was somehow holding itself together, it looked like a white sheet being dragged over the surface of a lake. It looked, she thought, very much like a ghost.
“Jumping Jupiter!” she exclaimed, rising to her feet, “...what’s that?”
Spotting the ghostly presence in question as well, Ramsay wheeled out of his seat and around to Buffybot, forcing her back.
“Get down!” He whispered loudly, trying to push Botty into a crouch, “...don’t let the pesky bugger see you. Don’t draw attention.”
Momentarily annoyed, Buffybot calmed herself soon enough, watching as the apparition circled about in the outside sky, making that queer whistling noise as it went..
“What IS it?” she asked again, quietly. The apparition’s movements were oddly fascinating to watch, and she was actually quite enjoying the sight. Ramsay was less enthused.
“They’re natives to this plane,” he told her, “...never got a real name on them. I call ‘em Sappors. They’re like ghostly parasites. Probably attracted ‘cause you’re so new here...they like fresh meat.”
Botty’s eyes narrowed. “Sappors...” she repeated softly, wishing she could open a new file, “...what do they do?”
“They latch onto you, wrap you up in themselves,” he explained, “...then they make you feel good. REAL good. Like Heaven good.”
Buffybot took her eyes off the Sappor and onto Ramsay. “That doesn’t sound very bad,” she noted.
“Always a catch, sweetness. The exchange only lasts a short time, and the comedown from Heaven-bliss, so I’ve read, can be a real bitch. Y’get hooked right quick.”
Botty frowned. It still didn’t sound very bad to her, but Ramsay didn’t seem fond of the ghost-creature at all, at all. “What sort of exchange?”
“It takes a part of you,” he told her bluntly, “...a little piece of your soul. Until there’s nothin’ left, and you’re just....pfffft. Gone. Know what I mean? Not good.”
Buffybot slowly looked back at the Sappor, circling again and again, until at length it seemed to flow away over the rooftops. The whistling died down, and she looked back at Ramsay. He seemed relieved.
“You sure know a lot about this place,” she said, impressed. He shrugged.
“You spend the better part of a decade plotting to kill yourself, you start to develop an interest in where you might end up,” he explained, adding, “...honestly, though? I think I got off kinda light. Maybe there really IS no justice in the cosmos, hey?”
Buffybot opened her mouth to ask a question...the question she’d been wanting to ask for some time now...but stopped. She’d just had some excitement, discovering a new creature, and that was neat. She didn’t want to ruin it just yet.
Instead, as she and Ramsay rose to their feet, she prodded him about something else that had been bothering her. It seemed to her that quite a lot fit that category in this place.
“I still don’t understand why I can...’feel’ things,” she bemoaned, dusting herself off, “...or access any of my systems. I’m not even sure how I’m operating at all! I keep wanting to run a diagnostic scan...”
“I’ve been thinkin’ about that,” Ramsay noted, strolling slowly out of the Espresso Pump and out into the street, “...and I’m pretty certain the reason is, that you’re not a robot anymore.”
“Don’t be goofy,” Buffybot chided quickly, “...I am so a robot! Just look!”
As she had done many times since dying, Buffybot popped open her tummy panel to reveal her complex inner workings (it comforted her to look at the smooth, simple efficiency of her infrastructure sometimes), and showed what she believed to be her 100% roboticness to Ramsay. He chuckled.
“Now THAT I will never get tired of,” he said honestly, admiring the sci-fi gobbledygook inside of his former enemy before she resealed herself, “...but it doesn’t make any difference. You’re STILL not a robot.”
Buffybot looked a little hurt now. “You’re trying to confuse me,” she accused, trying to remember that he was a super-villain back when he was alive. Maybe not quite a big bad, but still bad, and not beyond misdirection.
“Aren’t,” Ramsay said in his defense, stopping in his stroll. “Listen. For you to be here, that means...and I wish I knew HOW...but it means that you must have had a soul. Or somethin’ like it.”
Buffybot’s eyes slowly opened as wide as she could make them go while that simple pronouncement sank in. Suddenly she forgot all about Ramsay being a villain, and a warm and winning smile crawled over her features.
“I DO have a soul...” she said, voice laced with wonder. Across from her, Ramsay rolled his eyes.
“Well of course,” he said, “...could hardly be here without one, could ya? But that’s the trick...it’s your soul that’s here. Your body, or shell, whatever you call it, is back on Earth, lyin’ in whatever scrap-heap it got tossed in after you bought the farm.”
“Farm? I don’t...” Buffybot stopped herself before continuing, realizing even without direct access to her conversational algorithms what Ramsay was referring to. She gave him a patronizing smile. “I’m sure I didn’t get tossed onto a garbage pile. My friends would have buried me. That’s what you do with dead people!”
“I always fancied cremation, myself,” Ramsay mused, glancing at Buffybot. “You wouldn’t know what HAPPENED to me, after I...you know...”
Ramsay put a finger to his temple and made a loud ‘pow’ sound. Buffybot frowned distastefully.
“I buried you,” she told him, “...close to your family.”
The Scotsman smiled. “Well aren’t you a sweet thing?” He flashed Botty a big smile, which she automatically returned. “Now where was I?”
“I had bought a farm,” Buffybot reminded him, “...metaphorically, though..right?”
“Exactly correct. The point being, you left being a robot behind when you died. You might still look like a robot, just because that’s how you imagine yourself. But what you ARE, here, is just...soul. Pure and simple.”
“I’m soul?” Buffybot curled her mouth up quizzically, looking down at herself and patting her body. “I don’t FEEL like soul...”
“But you do feel,” Ramsay countered, and that got her attention again, “...as you were sayin’. That’s because, well, that’s what souls DO. Feel things. Your body back on Earth probably just wasn’t advanced enough to let ya do stuff like that. Here, though...anything goes.”
Buffybot thought about that, wrapping her arms around herself. She started to frown.
“I don’t like feeling,” she said aloud, “...things hurt.”
“They’re not all that bad,” Ramsay noted with a sly grin, narrowing his eyes. Buffybot blinked back.
“What do you mean?”
Taking a stride forward, Ramsay settled himself less than a foot from Botty, eyeing her in a way that made her uncomfortable. He cleared his throat and, before Botty could ask what he was doing, she suddenly noticed one of his hands easing downwards. A moment later she could feel it...somewhere that she was positive it was NOT supposed to be.
“Hey!”
Buffybot glared at Ramsay, who was still grinning. She reached a hand back to slap him for, she was sure, violating her privacy protocols, when he shifted his hand and...something strange happened. Buffybot froze.
“Oh...”
Her hand started to fall back to her side, and Buffybot nervously looked downwards. Ramsay moved his hand again, and Buffybot’s whole body did something entirely weird.
“AAAaaa...oh my...what...?”
Ramsay grinned wider, and started getting more adventurous. Buffybot was baffled. This was wrong, she was quite certain of it! You weren’t supposed to...HE wasn’t allowed to...
But holy smokes, she had to admit...whatever it was, it was...interesting. Very, very interesting.
“It gets better,” Ramsay whispered, edging closer. Buffybot watched him for a moment, feeling oddly helpless. She closed her eyes, trying to understand what was happening to her. What was he DOING to her? Was this what it was like for people when they were...naughty?
Botty thought maybe she could understand, then, why they seemed to like that so much. That must have been why she saw those people earlier being all sweaty and excited! It was probably one of the only fun things you could DO here.
But she WAS Buffybot, she reminded herself. And by golly, there were some things that just didn’t wash.
Her eyes flashed open, and Ramsay was directly before her. It actually took some skill to properly slap him at that angle, but she managed. She tried to ignore the sting in her palm. Ramsay reeled away, looking frustrated.
“...Ow.” He glared over at her, as Buffybot tried to regain her composure, trying not to think about what she had just felt (but not trying TOO hard, she noticed with some personal disappointment).
“Don’t do that,” she ordered., folding her arms in an attempt at indignance. She wasn’t sure how convincing she was being.
Ramsay straightened himself up, rubbing his cheek. “You’re a ruddy tease is what you are,” he said, almost sulking. Buffybot looked surprised.
“I am SO not! You aren’t...only boyfriends and girlfriends are supposed to do things like that!” Botty paused, recalling Willow and Tara. “Or possibly, girlfriend and girlfriend. Or, I suppose, boyfriend and boyfriend, even. But not you and I! We’re not any sort of friends!”
“Oh come on,” Ramsay said, the smile returning to his face, “...you’re dead. Live a little!”
“That isn’t...Tara?”
Buffybot’s eyes flashed wide, and Ramsay looked at her in stark confusion. “Umm, no, I suppose it isn’t. What is that, some sort’a robot slang, or...”
“Tara!”
Shoving Ramsay aside, Buffybot dashed down the street, where Tara had suddenly appeared, strolling peacefully. She seemed to be crossing from one side to another, and laughing at some unheard joke. Buffybot smiled as big as she ever had, now flat out running towards her friend.
“Tara! It’s me, Buffybot! Can you see me? I’m right here! TARA!”
And just for a moment, as Botty was about to reach her, Tara’s head turned in her direction, hair flipping across her shoulders. And just for a second her smiling face seemed to look right into Buffybot’s, and the robot felt about as happy and relieved as she ever had. She reached out...but there was nothing there.
Tara was gone, and Buffybot careened to a halt, dropping to her knees without benefit of an active gyrospcopic sensor to keep her righted. She didn’t much care about that just now anyways. She only stared about forlornly, looking for something she knew she wouldn’t find.
“Tara?” she shouted, a little shakily, “...Tara, please...PLEASE come back! I’m all alone, and...and I think I’m scared. Everything is gray here, and I don’t like it. I don’t want to be alone forever...that’s not fair! I can’t even power down...people don’t go to sleep here! We’re just awake and lonely forever and ever, and I’m so scared and...what?”
Buffybot reached an unsteady hand upwards, having noticed an unusual sensation following several curious hitches her body seemed to be experiencing during the last few moments. Something was wrong with her face. When her fingers probed about, she found with some distress that her cheeks were wet. She stared at the glistening moisture on her fingertips with fascination and, as the situation was, a bit of horror.
“I’m...crying?” Buffybot stared a moment longer before she started violently shaking her head.
“No...no, that’s not right. I’m Buffybot...I’m a robot, I don’t cry! I wasn’t designed to cry! I don’t cry, or feel, or get scared and sad, or ANY of those things! I’m a robot! That’s all! I-I..oh, darn...”
Despite what she felt were her perfectly logical protests, the tears just kept on coming harder and harder now. Buffybot found the experience was making it hard to talk, or even see. This was crying? It was so...crippling!
“Tara...p-please come back,” she whimpered, slowly doubling over, her eyes shutting hard as she tried to stop this unwanted display, to no effect, “...I...I HATE being dead...”
A few feet back, Ramsay just watched as Buffybot collapsed and sobbed, desperately holding herself. He couldn’t quite imagine what it must be like, crying for the very first time. Despite himself, he felt awfully sorry for the little machine-no-more. He looked away, staring up at the unchanging sky, and scowling at it for good measure.
“And they say this isn’t Hell...”
Things were quiet for the next few days. On Buffybot’s part, at least. Ramsay was doing his level best to cheer the little robot up, everything ranging from good-natured banter to his dirtiest limericks. There was good material in there, he was sure, but he never seemed able to raise more than a polite smirk out of her. Somehow, he found that awfully disturbing, more so even than his grim surroundings. He was only half certain of why he was even bothering, and not just ditching the mechanical do-gooder that had foiled his greatest plan. It didn’t make a whole lot of sense, at first glance.
Still, Ramsay told himself. I’m a deep fellow. More than meets they eye, hey? Besides...she might still be good for a go, know what I mean?
That made Ramsay smile. It was comforting to think in good old, self-serving villainous terms. Much more reliable territory than the other thoughts he’d been having.
As for herself, Buffybot was mostly engaging in what a human would have dubbed an unhealthy amount of introspection. None of it seemed to be coming out very well...for the first time in her life, Buffybot wasn’t even trying to be perky.
But then, she reminded herself, this wasn’t her life anymore, was it? This was her afterlife, and it sucked, pardon her language. All alone, no villains to fight, no demons to slay, no friends to protect...just one dead super-villain to hang around with. And boy did he talk a lot!
Buffybot frowned...or rather, continued to frown. She was pretty sure she was being rude to Mister Ramsay, which thought only made her even more glum. Being dead wasn’t sitting very well with her...was she even Buffybot anymore? Buffybot wasn’t rude, or gloomy, or sad or weepy or anything like those things. And what was worse, thinking all that just seemed to make her even MORE glum and gloomy.
And so poor Buffybot continued to sulk, barely listening as Ramsay continued with his tireless efforts to entertain. It was almost a relief for both of them when the demon showed up.
“So there I was, naught a penny to m’name, wanderin’ about Liverpool. Miserable town, you ask me. Anyways, I was looking for a bit of warmth for the night...maybe a touch of the in’n out, if you know what I mean, and...”
“Gnap! Gnap gnap.”
“What the..?”
Ramsay and Buffybot stopped, staring towards the noise that had just been emitted from the far end of the street. The creature that had emitted the weird noise looked a little like an Alligator, but rounder, and with a few extra limbs. It skittered across the street deftly, barking more ‘gnap’s at Botty and Ramsay as it went. Buffybot instinctively moved back, clutching at her arm where the bird-thing had hurt her before. She didn’t want to know what THIS thing could do to her.
“Easy, easy,” Ramsay said, reaching out an arm to Buffybot, “...it’s just a minor demon. They end up here sometimes. They can be a right pain, but they won’t do nothing permanent.”
“They...” Botty started, eyeing the demon nervously, and feeling like a terrible chicken, “...one of them bit me. It hurt.”
“Well, yeah, that happens,” Ramsay said offhandedly, before glancing at Buffybot. She was genuinely scared, he saw. He kept forgetting how new she was to everything.
“Okay, okay...this is no problem at all,” he reassured her, “...I’m a super-villain, right? You said so yourself. I can handle a wee beastie like this, no sweat. I’ll shoo him off,”
“Gnap gnap!”
“...eventually. Then you and I’ll find a bookstore. Sometimes the odd volume will still be salvageable on this side. We’ll dig up a copy of Finnegan’s Wake, it’ll keep us busy for centuries, I promise. Sound fun?”
Flashing her a goofy smile, Ramsay turned and started moving towards the creature, gesturing wildly and making loud noises, trying to frighten it off. Mostly it was just snapping at him, but it didn’t seem like he was in much danger.
Still...she should be helping. There was a demon about, that was what Buffybot did...fight demons! She wasn’t supposed to need other people to go and fight things for her. She chastised herself for being such a big sissy.
But she couldn’t move. Try as she might, all she could think about was how much it had hurt when the bird-thing had bitten into her before. It had hurt so much! It made her angry. Why would anyone build something that could hurt like that? It didn’t make any sense!
Buffybot watched with growing gloom as Ramsay fended the odd demon across the street, almost dancing with it as it alternately backed away and snapped at him. Was this how she would spend eternity? Just being scared and helpless? Not Buffybot at all, at all, but just some regular person? A victim? That was no way to be. She was sure of that. That was no way for her to be.
Ramsay was well away from her, still fencing with the creature, when Buffybot suddenly became aware of someone nearby...a presence of some sort that made her tingle. She slowly turned, and waiting in the air behind her was one of Ramsay’s ghost-things they’d seen before...a Sappor. It hung there like a veil, waving expectantly back and forth. Buffybot wondered if it had heard her thinking. Maybe it KNEW how sad she was, and thought that now would be a good time for it to try and get at her. Maybe it thought she was weak enough now to just float in and make it’s move.
Buffybot only stared at the Sappor for a moment before walking straight into it. Whatever it thought, she decided, it was right. This was no way for her to be. Not at all. She didn’t even look back.
“I just don’t want to be sad anymore...”
The ghostly limbs of the Sappor closed around her, and Buffybot felt herself rising a few inches off the ground. She got nervous for just a second, until the strangest feeling started coursing through her body...not just her body. Her mind, her everything. She felt filled with light, which wasn’t a concept she had ever imagined before, but now it felt just right. She could feel all sorts of things, actually...good things. WONDERFUL things. She smiled again without even realizing she was doing it. And in the next moment, she could feel them. All of them. And she cried with joy.
“They’re all there,” she whispered, floating deliriously in the Sappor’s grip, “...my friends! I can feel them all! Tara, and Willow, Xander...Dawn, little Dawnie! They’re all safe! And...”
Botty’s eyes drifted shut, her head leaning back rapturously. “...they love me,” she said, somehow knowing it to be true, “...they really do! They don’t even know they do, but...I can feel it. Oh, thank you...thank you so much...thank...oof!”
Buffybot was in mid-gratitude when something wrenched her hard, tearing her out of the Sappor’s blissful grip mercilessly. In an instant, all the warmth and love she’d felt a moment ago fled from her soul, leaving only a painful ache behind. She barely noticed the throb in her shoulder where she impacted with the ground. She could only lie there stunned, wondering why she’d been expelled like that so soon...until she noticed Ian Ramsay lying on top of her, staring at her like she had lost her mind.
“What the heck are ya DOIN’, ya daft bird? I warned y’about those things, now didn’t I??”
“You...” Botty started to say, finding it difficult at first to talk, “...YOU pulled me out?”
With a nod, Ramsay confirmed Buffybot’s accusation. “I wouldn’t exactly say pulled, really. Tackled is more like. Don’t worry, we don’t bruise here. Minor plus.”
Unintentionally putting that claim to the test, Buffybot hauled off and decked Ramsay, clipping him a good one and knocking him off of her. He bobbled about for a moment as Buffybot got to her feet, glaring down at him with disbelief.
“You...you big meanie!” She shouted, her fists shaking by her sides, “...why did you do that? You ARE a super-villain! You just want me to be upset and sad, and...and...and you’re a meanie!”
“Oh, there’s gratitude for ya!” Ramsay fired back, nursing his cheek, “...do you not even remember what I told ya? Those things’ll eat ya whole, leave naught behind. You’ll REALLY be dead. I know you...you CAN’T be desperate enough to think that’s a good deal.”
“But...” Buffybot paused, her fists uncurling as the familiar sadness of the last few days started welling up inside of her.
“But I was HAPPY,” she finally said, confused. After a moment, Ramsay got to his feet again and stood in front of her. He shook his head.
“I’m sorry,” he told her genuinely, “...I seem to have not taken into account how stupid you are. Apologies.”
“Hey!” Botty said indignantly, “...that was rude!”
“Oh, and poundin’ me kisser was the height of etiquette? I swear, you yanks have mixed-up values. Would ya listen? Properly, this time?”
Buffybot opened her mouth to protest, but shut it again when she realized she really had no better idea to offer. Reluctantly, she nodded for Ramsay to continue.
“Okay, first thing? You don’t need THOSE things to be happy!” He pointed towards the sky, obviously intending to indicate the Sappor, although it was in fact long fled. He carried on. “Not YOU. I watched you on Earth...by God, you practically INVENTED the smile! All perky grins and optimism...you telling me you can’t get even a LITTLE of that back? I mean come on, I was a master criminal psychotically bent on self-destruction, and I’m more chipper than you? I gotta say, I really don’t think you’re trying very hard.”
Buffybot furrowed her brow, concentrating. Those WERE good points, she had to admit. But then she flashed back to her experience with the Sappor moments ago.
“My friends,” she said wistfully, “...I could feel them...I miss them.”
Reaching a hand out and laying it on Buffybot’s shoulder, Ramsay tried his best to be comforting. “I know y’do. And heck, if I’d had any friends to leave behind, I’d miss them too. But that’s just one of those little crosses we ghosts must bear. Bet they miss ya too, hey?”
With a long out of place smile, Buffybot nodded. “They love me!” She announced happily, “...I could feel it!”
“Good one,” Ramsay admitted, “...so now you know. Don’t need to be dipping back into the Sappor’s well to find out what y’already know, am I right?”
“I...I suppose that makes sense,” Buffybot admitted, although there was a last niggling resonance of sadness in her voice. Ramsay sighed.
“Listen. You remember our big, climactic battle? Back at me old homestead?” Ramsay waited for a reply, and quickly got a pert nod from our heroine. He continued.
“We really did change history that day, you know. I noticed when I woke up, tied to that tree. All the new memories that weren’t there before. Me, comin’ home from the fair, and suddenly there’s this wild-eyed loon with a beard, aimin’ a pistol at me! I can tell you, I scared myself outta my wee wits!”
Ramsay enjoyed a grim chuckle at the highly bizarre memory, although Buffybot was beginning to wonder what exactly he was getting at...unless he was just ranting. That was a common super-villain trait, she recalled.
“And then YOU showed up,” he said, awestruck at the image in his head, “...this gorgeous, blonde yankee broad, diving in at the nick of time. Savin’ me life, battlin’ the villain...you have any idea how big an impact that was on an impressionable youth like myself?”
Buffybot smiled bashfully. “Well, golly...I was just doing my job...”
“You were BRILLIANT!” Ramsay shouted, getting excited, “...God, if I’d had the stones, and a few more years, I’d have asked you to marry me that day! My own, personal Supergirl, come right outta the wild blue t’save me. See, I think...”
Buffybot was just starting to really enjoy Ramsay’s tale, when his face suddenly deflated. He was looking past her, over her shoulder. She turned to see what he was seeing, and was herself a little concerned when she saw that the Sappor had returned.
With about a dozen others.
“I think they liked how you tasted...” Ramsay said.
The Sappors came swooping towards Buffybot, who was quickly hustled into a run by Ramsay. The two of them took off down the street, their ghostly pursuers close behind. Although worried, Buffybot was quietly very pleased that she had no particular desire to give in to it again. Maybe she was starting to become Buffybot again..?
“This is bad,” Ramsay said between strides, “...they usually don’t swarm like this. They’ve really got a yen for you, kitten.”
“Do you really think I ...tasted that good?” Buffybot asked, confused at the concept. Ramsay gave her a wink.
“Wouldn’t I love t’know,” he said roguishly, “...but we can’t let’em catch you. In big enough groups, Sappors can do real damage. I have a plan.”
“What do we do?” Botty asked, instinctively worried. As a general rule, plans hatched by villains simply did not work.
“Easy. You keep runnin’, and I tackle these nasties myself. Got a little steam to let off anyways.”
“What?” Buffybot half-turned, narrowly ducking a shrieking, swooping Sappor overhead. “That’s a dopey plan! I can help! I’m the...I’m A Slayer!”
“Listen!” Ramsay dodged sideways, grabbing Buffybot into a narrow alleyway, and shoving her up against a wall. “I’ve been thinkin’ about it...why I’m here? Not somewhere a little more fire and brimstone-ish, like I deserve? And it’s YOU.”
Buffybot shook her head. “I don’t underst...”
“I let everyone down,” He interrupted, words rattling out at breakneck speed, “...the ones I didn’t kill outright. Made a big mess of my life. But maybe I can make a good show of my death. I think it’s why I’m here, why something brought me to you when you arrived...I’m supposed to keep you safe. It would explain my uncharacteristic nobility towards ya, at any rate.”
“Ramsay...”
A shriek from several Sappors cut Buffybot off, and she and Ramsay looked to see them swarming at the alley entrance. He looked back towards Botty.
“Do a handsome man a favour, now,” he said, leaning in and giving her a quick kiss on the lips,
“...run.”
With a smile, Ramsay pushed Buffybot further down the alley and leapt out into the crowd of Sappors, passing through them in a messy cloud, swinging wildly. He began shouting all sorts of colourful curses at them, and before long, they were stalking him out into the middle of the street. Buffybot stumbled, watching with absolute fascination.
She wished she could access her files for updating. She was starting to realize that she really didn’t know Mister Ramsay as well as she’d thought.
Buffybot smiled. That was okay, she thought. He didn’t know her very well, either.
“Come on, you pasty so-and-so’s! Show a son of Scotland what ye’re made of! Have at ya!”
The Sappors seemed to respond to Ramsay’s taunts, swooping and slashing at him with the tips of their wings. When one would catch him, it seemed to cause no small discomfort. He stumbled a few paces, trying to size up a possible avenue of attack. He wasn’t having much luck. And the enemy was circling.
“This is stupid,” Ramsay said, trying to keep the Sappors in check, “...you’re villains, after a fashion, right? I’M a villain...we should do a team-up or something, like the old Brainiac-Luthor days. You could cackle, I’ll twirl my moustache...hell, we could even scheme together! Won’t that be nice?”
The Sappors shrieked, and two of them dove at Ramsay from opposite angles. Ramsay dodged madly, still getting clipped hard by one of them as he rolled. He clambered to his feet, scowling.
“It’s official,” he muttered to himself, “...this is my worst plan EVER.”
Ramsay stepped back as the Sappors massed before him, their ethereal vibrations massing into an almost deafening screech. He flinched instinctively.
This, he told himself with certainty, was NOT a job for a super-villain.
It came then as no small relief when the hero, right on cue, came flipping in through the mass of Sappors, in her usual nick of time. Ramsay laughed. How did they always know when the ‘nick’ was?
Buffybot landed with something much more like her regular robotic grace just in front of Ramsay, quickly spinning towards the stunned Sappors and assuming an aggressive stance. She smirked knowingly towards them.
“You creeps like how I taste?” she asked, raising a taunting eyebrow, “...well come on then...eat me!”
The Sappors bellowed angrily, and Ramsay winced, wondering if Buffybot quite understood the double-entendre she’d just used. “You know, it’s getting right annoying, you hornin’ in on all my big moments,” he pointed out, shuffling up beside her, “...you hero types can’t let anyone else have the spotlight for five seconds, can ya?”
“Stop being dopey,” Buffybot ordered, “...tell me how to fight them! Do they have weak spots?”
Ramsay grinned. Almost nice to have the proper robot back. “Go for the eyes,” he said, motioning towards one of the creatures, “...those two yellow bulbs shifting around near the tops. Or the wingtips, where they’re nearly solid. Apart from that, we’re screwed.”
“Think positive,” Buffybot replied, “...no one’s screwing ME today!”
Ramsay winced. “Alright, let’s do this before you get me laughin’. And...thanks fer comin’ back, eh?”
“It’s what I do,” Buffybot answered warmly, “...now let’s give these non-corporeal no-goodniks some biffs and bams!”
“Give them WHAT..?”
Before Buffybot could elucidate, the Sappors began shrieking terribly, and she and Ramsay got ready for the attack. Except that it never came.
From behind the Sappors, a brilliant red flash started up, harsh in intensity even if the world weren’t as colourless as this one. The scarlet wave cascaded through the Sappors, seemingly penetrating and rending them with devastating effect. Botty and Ramsay tried to shield their eyes and ears, both from the red glare and the terrible shrieks of the Sappors. A moment later the red energy crashed through their enemies and into them, knocking them both off their feet and onto the ground. It was a full minute before they could see or hear anything again.
Buffybot was the first to recover. The sensation of blinking little red spots out of her eyes was so amusing it almost drove her to distraction, but she got her wits about her soon enough. She hopped to her feet and put up her dukes, ready for whatever new action awaited...but not at all ready for what WAS waiting.
“Aahhh,” Ramsay moaned, rubbing his eyes painfully by Buffybot’s feet, “...THAT was new. What the holy Hell was..?”
As he opened his eyes, Ramsay fell suddenly speechless. The Sappors were gone, and behind where they had been was a singular entity...bright, fire red in hue, it seemed to be made entirely of light. There was a vaguely humanoid shape at it’s core, flanked by spectacular wings of fire. Two warm, glowing white orbs seemed to serve as it’s eyes, which stared patiently forward at Buffybot. She stared back.
“I think it was him,” she said, answering Ramsay’s truncated question softly, “...whoever he is. But...I think he’s a good guy.”
“Something red...” Ramsay suddenly flashed back to his reunion with the robot in this place, and the strange event that had brought him to her. He stared dumbly at the creature before him, and recognition started to play in his mind’s eye. “Mary an’ Joseph...”
“I don’t know WHY I think that,” Buffybot added, confused, “...it’s funny. It’s like I know it....but I don’t know HOW I know it. But I think that’s kind of normal here...is it?”
“I feel it, too,” Ramsay told her, warily rising to a stand, “...I think...I think it’s an emissary. From the higher planes.”
“An emissary?” Buffybot glanced at Ramsay, trying to keep an eye on the wondrous entity before her at the same time. She found it hard to take her eyes off of it.
“For all intents and purposes?” Ramsay clarified, “...it’s an Angel. But what one is doin’ HERE..?”
As if to answer the question, the Emissary slowly stretched out one elegant, crimson arm, and pointed a finger straight out, towards Buffybot. The little robot blinked in polite but genuine surprise.
“Me?” Almost instinctively, Buffybot looked about for support. “But...what did I do? I don’t understand...”
The Emissary did not answer verbally, only turned it’s hand over, offering it’s open palm towards Buffybot. Almost imperceptibly, it motioned with it’s hand for Botty to walk over.
“Think he wants you to join him, darlin’,” Ramsay said, no small awe in his voice. Buffybot stared at him, worry creeping onto her face.
“But why? Where does he want me to...am I in trouble? Because I didn’t mean to do anything wrong, really!”
“We’re not exactly followin’ a plan here, hen. But I don’t think this is the sort of invitation ya refuse. Know what I mean?”
“But...” Botty glanced back at the Emissary, still patiently waiting for her to join him. She could feel the love and the warmth coming off of him in great waves...she trusted him. But something still bothered her.
“Go on,” Ramsay prodded, “...go to him. You said it yourself, he’s one of the good guys. You belong with the good guys, right?”
Buffybot turned and faced her old enemy. “You’re not THAT bad. Not lately, I mean.”
“Bite yer tongue,” Ramsay replied, hurt, “...I’m a villain through and through!”
“But you’re a reformed villain now!” Botty replied brightly, “...like Xena!”
Ramsay’s face soured. “Not sure I find THAT analogy too flatterin’...”
“You’re silly,” Buffybot said, reaching a hand out and grasping one of Ramsay’s own. “Thank you for helping me, Ian.”
“Hey! Call me Ramsay, willya?” he shot back indignantly, a sly smile on his face, “...only me Mum calls me Ian.”
Buffybot nodded, grinning. “You’re a very strange super-villain, Mister Ramsay. But I hate to leave you all alone. It’s so depressing here!”
“I’ll make do. Eternity’ll give me time to catch up on my Joyce, like I said. Now g’wan, before I start blushin’ brighter’n that great cherubic galoot.”
Buffybot and Ramsay looked over at the eternally patient Emissary, still waiting for Buffybot’s hand. She turned and leaned in to Ramsay one last time.
“Where do you think he wants to take me?” she asked in a whisper. She was awfully worried...she had just finally gotten used to THIS weird place...she wasn’t sure she could take a new one. Ramsay just smiled.
“Someplace better,” he told her flatly, “...except it won’t have me, of course. But you’ll just have to suffer in that regard.”
Buffybot smiled widely, then gave Ramsay a quick peck on the cheek. She giggled at the sensation of his beard on her face, and wondered idly if she would still feel such things wherever she ended up next. She hoped so.
“Take care of yourself, Mister Ramsay. I’ll...miss you.”
“Not if you never leave...go! Scat! And don’t forget t’write.”
With a happy smile, Buffybot turned and started walking towards the waiting Emissary. She stopped momentarily to yelp out one final ‘OW!’ as Ramsay slapped her behind hard the moment she was turned. She looked back at him and frowned.
“Hey, I’ve been wantin’ to do that for weeks,” he said in his defence, “...villain, remember?”
Buffybot continued scowling for a moment as she rubbed her bottom, finally giving up and scooting off to the Emissary. She stood by it’s side and looked up into it’s face...and as she did so her worries seemed to melt away for the moment. She felt...good.
Smiling, Botty looked back and waved goodbye to Ramsay, who bowed extravagantly back. As she waved, she looked up again at the Emissary, a little disappointed.
“Come on,” she told it, “...say goodbye! You don’t want Mister Ramsay to feel bad, do you?”
The Emissary stood motionless for a second, before awkwardly raising one hand and gently waving in Ramsay’s direction. Buffybot smiled.
“There now. That wasn’t so hard, was it?”
Ramsay watched and chuckled as the Emissary rolled it’s angelic eyes, before wrapping it’s massive wings around Buffybot in a smooth swoop. A moment later the air crackled briefly, and both Angel and Robot were gone from the grey world of Limbo. Ramsay took a few minutes to adjust himself to the sudden solitude, breathing deeply. He felt oddly good.
“I think death suits me,” he said to himself, starting off down the streets. He started whistling an old folk tune, trying to decide where to go. His old mentor had often talked about Uganda rather fondly, he recalled. With a grin, Ramsay wondered how long it would take to walk there...
EPILOGUE
He stood waiting, and waiting, hovering over the girl’s inert form with mounting impatience. For what seemed the hundredth time he paced the room, strolling anxiously through the sparse furniture, going over his own worries again and again in his head.
Was he up for this? What had he really signed on for? And why did the Power that Be keep picking on HIM?
He was about to glance once again at his wrist, forgetting yet again that he wore no watch, when he felt it happen. Turning awkwardly, he dashed over to the girls side and waited, glad to have no heart beating right now for fear it would burst out of his expectant chest. He didn’t think he would be this nervous.
Play it cool, he told himself, play it cool. First impressions are everything, ya know.
A second or two passed as he waited over the table where the girl lay, when there came a slight humming sound, ever so brief, from within her frame. A moment later her eyes flung open, and her face lit up with new movement. She was alive.
Doyle grinned with relief, and he slumped back a bit, looking into the bewildered new eyes staring back at him.
“Thought you’d never get here,” he said, only half-joking. The girl looked confused.
“...Buffybot, I presume?”
TO BE CONTINUED...
ADDENDUM
Ian Ramsay was Buffybot’s foe from Season One. He died by his own hand in episode 20, RAMSAY.
The Phantom Zone is an ethereal prison dimension introduced in the old SUPERMAN comics. In SUPERGIRL it was mutated slightly into a dreary, physical realm. And yes, Helen Slater was smoking hot in that otherwise silly, silly movie.
FINNEGANS WAKE by James Joyce would indeed provide endless hours of entertainment/study. In fact, eternity might not be long enough to figure it out completely.
Send any feedback to visitorium@hotmail.com
Back to Season Two Stories
And Now, Back to The BUFFYBOT Adventures!