The Visitor and The Buffybot Adventures Present:
Season Two - Episode SevenPUNK RULES
CARITAS
One flight of stairs below street level in downtown Los Angeles, a green-skinned demon with red horns protruding from his cranium was fixing himself a Denver omelette, heavy on the paprika, with a side of tater tots. While this might have been an unusual sight for many of the city’s residents, it was a typical morning for the dapper demon known to the patrons of his club as the Host.
His friends called him Lorne.
Settling on a nice clean table (there were a lot more of them, now that he’d finally begun work on getting his club up and running again), Lorne lowered his breakfast plate and stepped behind the bar, pouring himself a nice Irish coffee and grabbing the morning paper. A small-press paper he had delivered every morning, the LA DAILY SCROLL was a semi-underground, supernatural-friendly newsrag put out by an industrious group of Bulger Demons on the East Side. Lorne got it mostly for the entertainment section, though he enjoyed the cartoons. He sat, sipping his coffee and wondering how large a spread he should shell out for when he was ready to announce his grand reopening. Then he flipped the paper open to the show listings, and something caught his eye.
Nothing of great note, at first glance. Just an out of the way venue for the louder crowd, some three-band, five dollar night that normally Lorne would avoid. Something about this one, though, was making his horns tingle. He’d seen it somewhere before, and the not-knowing where was putting him off his breakfast. And Lorne hated cold tater tots.
Happily, before any microwaving would become necessary, Lorne remembered in a flash why this listing seemed so familiar to him. He set the paper down, staring at the ad, already making plans in his head. A wry smile crossed his lips as he did so.
“Well, there go my plans for a nice, quiet evening.” Lorne drank deeply from his coffee mug, pondering the anxiety he’d just stumbled upon, though no fault of his own.
Wasn’t it just always the way?
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DOWNTOWN LA
A cellphone rang once, a tinny version of ‘Paranoid’ by Black Sabbath announcing the incoming call. Something that used to be a human being pulled the hone out of his pocket and pressed a button.
“Start talking.”
“It’s Ridge,” a man’s voice said, strong and clear, “...we’re on for tonight.”
The creature smiled. “When and where?”
“Down Below. Just like we practiced. I’ll pick you up at six. We hit at midnight.”
“We sure he’ll be there?”
“Confirmed. He’s made plans with three others. Just a fun night out for a little rich boy.”
“Yeah,” the creature laughed, “...fun for us. Nice work, food. I’m glad I didn’t eat you.”
“And I’m glad I didn’t dust your sorry ass. See you at Six.”
“Groovy.”
The creature shut his phone down, then lit a cigarette. He took a long drag, relaxing. In a minute he’d call Bob. Bob had been itching for some violence, and would be primed and ready for the action tonight. Should be a blast. As long as the meatbag did his part, they’d all be a hell of a lot richer come the dawn.
And, Erik reminded himself with a smug grin, he’d be one step closer to being a legend. Just like he’d always wanted.
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SUNNYDALE CEMETERY
EIGHT MONTHS AGO
“Fancy a little music, pet?”
Staring at the vampire with adoring eyes, the pretty robot smiled for all she was worth. “The sound of your sexy British voice is music to my ears, Spike. You know that.”
Spike grinned, cigarette dangling form his lips. “Well, not that I don’t agree, but a little change keeps things fresh, hey?” Pulling a record from his collection, Spike set it on the turntable and flipped the ‘on’ switch. Carefully, he set the needle down, blowing off any dust. A moment later a rather raucous din started blaring from the speakers he’d scavenged from the City Dump. He smiled
“Yeah, that’s the stuff. Beat on the brat, beat on the brat...”
Spike pumped his fists in time with the music, while Buffybot looked on, confusion clouding her newly minted processors. “I don’t understand,” she pleaded, “...who would you like me to beat on?”
“It’s music, love,” Spike stressed, turning lankily in her direction, “...you like music, dont’cha?”
Buffybot checked her memory core. “I was not programmed with any specific musical...”
“Stop that.” For a moment, Spike looked upset, but he quickly regained his composure, swagger and all. “Listen...you like THIS kind of music, all right? Not that ‘Wind beneath my Wings’ rot, but real music. Loud, fast, and strong. Just like me. Got it?”
“Updating...”
After a moment, Buffybot resumed her smiling. “This is my FAVOURITE music, Spike! How did you know?”
Pleased with himself, Spike rocked forwards, taking the Buffybot’s hips in his arms. He let the cigarette fall to the ground, stubbing it beneath his heel.
“Just a feeling is all.”
*******************************************************************************
HYPERION HOTEL, LOS ANGELES
NOW
“Morning Wesley!”
Stepping inside the Hotel Lobby, Wesley stifled a yawn and waved hello to Fred. The slender girl was seated behind the main counter, thumbing through a magazine on Astrophysics. She seemed quite happy to see people.
“How did it go at the police? We’re not in trouble, are we?”
Wesley shook his head, coming to a stop opposite Fred. “Nothing like that...just some routine questions about our involvement in Miss Lowell’s kidnapping. She was quite supportive, I’m glad to say.”
“Well, I hope so,” Fred agreed, “...we did save her from having to spend the rest of her life imagining she was a fictional character for the amusement of a creepy nerd. Is she all right?”
“She’s remarkably resilient, I’d say. None the worse for wear.”
Fred shifted uncomfortably. “Did she...ask about Angel?”
“Only once,” Wesley admitted, fiddling with his glasses, “...I suspect she was just as relieved as disappointed that he wasn’t there. I...didn’t mention his being affected by the spell.”
“He’ll appreciate that.”
Glancing about, Wesley scanned the lobby. “Has he come down yet?”
“Haven’t seen him,” Fred relayed, “...not Buffybot, either. It’s a little weird.”
“Doubtless they’ll be feeling a little awkward about what happened...although thank goodness nothing actually...HAPPENED, so to speak.”
“Yeah...”
Fred’s mind drifted back to the previous night, when she’d been tending to Gunn. She’d lost track of Angel and Buffybot for a solid half hour at least. By the time she caught up to them, the spell’d been broken. And neither of them were talking, not even a little bitty bit.
She wondered...
“They’ll be all right, Fred.” Wesley gave Fred a reassuring smile, noticing her worry. He drew a deep breath then, fighting off another yawn.
“Is there coffee?”
Upstairs, in one of the guest rooms, Buffybot sat on the edge of her bed, hands locked in her lap. She looked up, somewhat guiltily, towards her immaterial guest. He looked stunned.
“So...what do you think? Is it bad?”
Drawing a deep breath (which he didn’t need to do, but Buffybot didn’t question him on it since she too often mimicked the same function), Doyle took a quick mental review of Buffybot’s retelling of the previous nights events. Then, he did a slow one. It seemed worth it.
“I’m not gonna say I told you so,” he started off with, “...and you can thank your well-molded cuteness for that courtesy, I can assure ya. But...wow.”
“But it wasn’t my fault!” Buffybot gave Doyle a pathetic look straight from her sensory manipulation database. “I was under the influence of a powerful magic spell. We both were! Neither one of us was at fault. That’s...”
“Logical. Yeah, I know. But it ain’t logic we’re dealing with here, gal. Need I remind you?”
“No,” Buffybot replied glumly, drawing a sigh from her autonomic response file, “...it’s those darn emotions. The silly things. But even I’m fine with them this time! I don’t think I understand.”
Doyle sympathized. He’d never been the best with emotional interactions himself during his lifetime, as either Harry or Cordelia could attest. “I’m glad you’re doin’ well with your half of this little misadventure, kid. But Angel? Well, he’s gonna be another story. We’re talking MAJOR intimacy issues here, and you and he just gave them a powerful bruising.”
“But it wasn’t my fault!”
Ah, the innocence of mechanical youth. “Ain’t about fault, here, doll, it’s about what happened. Angel’s gotta deal with that on his own time. He’ll come around, it’ll just...take a bit, is all. The Buffy thing’s a big hurdle for him to get over. And after you and he...”
Doyle paused, groping for the right words. Buffybot had been just a hint vague in parts of her telling. “Well, you and he...I’m not sure I wanna know, but...just how far did you two...umm, you know...”
“I’m not supposed to talk about it,” Buffybot immediately fired back, “...at all. Ever. Angel was very emphatic on that point. I feel bad even telling you what I already have.”
Buffybot lowered her eyes for a moment, and Doyle rolled his. Oh yeah...it was bad.
For her part, Buffybot’s plasmonic and other relays were burning themselves up trying to figure out why this was all so bad, if whatever had happened was neither hers nor Angel’s fault at all. Shouldn’t that make everything all right?
An unwanted frown pulled itself out of her facial expression file folder and onto her face. It WASN’T her fault! Things were ever so much more complicated since she came back. A small pulse of electricity surged through Buffybot’s nostalgia generators, and she thought fondly of the days when, like a good robot, she had no emotions. Not to mention her lesser susceptibility to magic spells...she was always the one who DIDN’T get affected by things like last night. No more of that, she supposed.
“Okay, okay. You’re right...it ain’t nobody’s fault. And Angel will get that sooner or later. But you might wanna steer clear of him for a spell...no pun intended.”
Buffybot glanced back at Doyle, confused. “You think I should leave?”
“No, no! I mean, not for good or anything...but givin’ Angel a day or two to deal with things might not be a bad idea. Just a little space is all. Trust me.”
“I don’t know,” Botty pondered, running her options through her interpersonal tactical simulator. A smile crossed her face. “I have an idea.”
“Ah, good morning, Angel. Well, only barely morning any more, but...”
Angel put up a halting hand to Wesley’s greeting as he entered the lobby, the other hand on his head. He winced mildly, cursing the spell he’d been under the night before for the thousandth time that morning. On top of everything else it hade done to him, he’d polished off an entire bottle of scotch in one sitting, and was now nursing one of the worst hangovers he’d experienced since being alive.
Beside Wesley, Gunn lowered the icepack he’d been holding to his cheek. “What’s the matter, Chic? Hurt your head ridin’ them waves last night?”
Angel scowled. “How soon can I expect you to stop that?”
Gunn smirked in response. “Soon as the swellin’ goes down, surf-boy.”
“Look, I’d rather just...how’s Rebecca?”
Wesley stepped up. “She’s good. Her assailant is likely to face a good jail term. Our involvement will be minimal at best.”
“Good.” Angel looked around cautiously. “Has she come down yet?”
Hearing the tone in his voice, Gunn and Wesley seemed to clam up momentarily. Only Fred, who managed to get the question wrong, piped up.
“Who, Miss Lowell? I don’t think she’s here...didn’t you leave her at the police station, Wesley? I mean, I suppose we could bring...”
Finally, Fred noticed the entirely negative head-shaking Wesley was directing her way, and her mind caught up with her mouth. “Oh!” Embarrassed, she turned back towards Angel. “Oh, you mean...no. I mean, I thought I heard her rustlin’ about a half hour ago, but...”
Fred shrugged her shoulders in conclusion, and Angel nodded. “Okay, let’s just get back to business as usual, all right? Rebecca’s safe, and we’ve got a business to run. Have we got anything on....”
Sniffing the air, Angel suddenly turned away from his teammates. “What’s that smell?”
A moment later the door leading to the kitchens opened and Buffybot, carrying a well-laden tray, emerged. A white apron covered part of her jeans and t-shirt, but her wide smile was in full evidence.
“Hello everybody! I made Grilled Cheese.”
A few odd stares greeted that pronouncement, although Fred’s face lit up almost immediately.
“Yummy!” Darting out from behind the counter, Fred scooted towards the sudden buffet, followed momentarily by Wesley and Gunn.
“Thank you, Buffybot, this is...very kind. Unexpected, but kind.”
Botty smiled at Wesley’s remark as Gunn looked with surprise over her shoulder. “We have a kitchen?”
Nodding, Buffybot lifted her tray towards Fred, who snapped up one of the sandwiches with a grin. “Fred told me about it when she was showing me around a few days ago. I thought I would cook a nice lunch for everyone! Grilled Cheese is my specialty.”
With a shrug, Gunn reached over and took one, just as Fred let out a squeal of approval and swallowed.
“Wow! This is amazing. I tried like the dickens to make cheese once in Pylea? But I couldn’t make the Tarful milk thicken properly. But this is...wow!”
Gunn took a healthy bite and seemed similarly approving. “Damn...this is a fine Grilled Cheese! Almost like Momma used to make, know what I’m sayin’?”
Smiling appreciatively beneath the praise, Buffybot nevertheless cast a hopeful glance towards Angel, who was standing back.
“Angel? I made an extra cheesy one, just for you! Would you like...”
“I’m not hungry.”
Avoiding Buffybot’s eyes, Angel turned and stalked away to the basement access, vanishing down the stairs. Buffybot’s smile faded noticeably.
“Don’t worry about Angel,” Wesley offered, swallowing a bite, “...he’s always moody after a possessing enchantment. These are marvellous! I’ve never had one before...”
Fred swirled towards Wesley, incredulous. “You haven’t ever had a grilled cheese? OhmiGod, I must have had about a googleplex of these durin’ high school. I could never make ‘em this good, though...”
“I use All-American processed cheese slices,” Buffybot beamed, happily distracted from Angel’s snub, “...it helps people develop strong bones!”
Fred giggled just as the lobby door opened. Buffybot was the first to see Lorne doffing his white fedora and breezing inside with a satisfied grin. He waved a lackadaisical salute towards the group.
“Morning, crimefighters. Nice to see the war on evil takes time out for a healthy breakfast every now and then.”
Fred waved, and Wesley started heading in Lorne’s direction. “Morning, Lorne. What brings you by?”
Wesley wiped the melted butter off his fingers while Lorne shared a gregarious smile. “Can’t a demon come and visit his favourite Ghostbusters just for a how-do-you-do sometimes?”
Buffybot and the others approached, not noticing Wesley’s sceptical look. “Are you sure nothing’s wrong? Has that woman from Wolfram and Hart returned?”
“Nah. I think you and your pistol-packin’ papa routine from last week scared her off but good, amigo. No more pesky parasites either. Had a nice, thorough exorcism/extermination done. Caritas is 100% pest free, human or otherwise.”
“That’s great,” Fred exclaimed, “...are you gonna open up again soon?”
“We’ll see, we’ll see.” Lorne smirked evasively, then twinkled an eye in Buffybot’s direction, just as she was setting her remaining grilled cheese on the counter. “And how are you doing, bright eyes? All your electrons back where they’re supposed to be?”
After ascertaining from his body movement and eye contact that Lorne was indeed talking to her (she added ‘bright eyes’ to the list of nicknames he had for her), Buffybot turned and smiled politely. “All power levels are at maximum, mister Lorne. Thank you for asking! It’s very nice to see you again.”
“Likewise, sweetness.” Lorne turned his eye to Gunn, standing further off. “Hey, Gunn. What’s the matter, can’t shake an old pal’s hand?”
Slowly, Gunn came forward, extending a hand in greeting. “Wasn’t sure you and I were exactly...you know...”
Lorne lunged, giving Gunn a hearty handshake. “Ahh, life’s too short for grudges, champ. Let bygones be bygones, that’s what my Mom always said.”
Gunn smiled in relief, though Lorne paused. “Well, actually, what she SAID was that I was a disgrace to the clan and wouldn’t I just take a running jump into the lagoon of eternal festering, but I like to think she meant something else by it. It’s the romantic in me.”
“Do you want us t’get Angel, Lorne? If there’s something going on...”
Lorne stopped Fred with a shake of his head. “No need to rouse Drac from his coffin on my account, kitten. Actually,”
Lorne squared a stare right at Buffybot. “...I’m here to see HER.”
“Me?” Buffybot’s surprise generators kicked in. “Is everything all right?”
“Absolutely! Golly, you champion-types do stress the negativity, don’t you? Strictly off-duty is what I’ve got in mind.”
Buffybot pondered. Her verbal and physiological stress analyzers were indicating that Lorne may be trying to deceive her. But he WAS a demon, which may be affecting the results. And did she really stress the negative? How awful!
Determined, Buffybot gave an extra boost to her optimism generators and smiled as wide as she could manage. “That sounds fun!” she exclaimed, “...what do you want me to do?”
Wesley and the others listened in, equally curious. Lorne looked momentarily edgy under all the eyes, but was back to normal in a second. “Saw an ad in the paper this morning for a show, put on by some old friends of mine. The Carlson brothers, Chaos Demons out of Santa Barbara. Good fellas, do rock promotion for the demon-friendly crowd. They’ve got a few bands playing at a spot in one of the nearby counties. Pretty hard and heavy stuff, and after that tune you belted out for me last week, I thought it might be right up your electronic alley.”
Buffybot looked shocked. “You...you want to take me out to a club? Really?”
“It’ll be a hoot! Sure, the music’s not exactly my usual, but like I said, they’re pals. And lord knows I could do with a little time away from the house. Besides, it’ll give me some bonding time with the cutest little robot superhero this side of Lindsay Wagner. What do you say?”
Motionless, Buffybot was just about ready to engage her blushing function. He called her a superhero! And...and he wanted to do something fun with her. Just like friends!
Buffybot spared a split-second furtive glance towards the basement access, where Angel had stalked off some minutes ago. She recalled what Doyle had mentioned, about getting away from him for a while. Well, the grilled cheese sure hadn’t worked...
“It’s a date!”
“Perfect!” Lorne clapped his hands together in victory. “Now, this club’s a good ways away, and I’m not exactly inconspicuous, so...think you could handle the driving? The sight of me in the drivers seat tends to make LA’s finest a little jittery.”
That but a dent in Buffybot’s smile. “Well, my updated programming has full traffic and driving regulations, but...I don’t have a licence.”
Lorne waved dismissively. “No problem. You let uncle Lorne take care of that, Tinkerbell. Just get yourself dressed for a night on the town, and let’s go, go, go!”
“Okey dokey!” Buffybot smiled appreciatively, letting herself catch some of Lorne’s enthusiasm. It sounded, indeed, like good fun! She hadn’t been to a club...for fun reasons...since the Bronze.
Beside her, Fred gave Lorne a sideways look. “The Bionic Woman was a cyborg, not a robot.”
“Shush, you,” Lorne admonished, suddenly glancing behind Fred to the counter. “Hey, is that grilled cheese?”
Buffybot nodded proudly. “Would you like one? I made plenty!”
Stepping closer, Lorne had to admit it was tempting. “Maybe I skimped on the tater-tots this morning. Because, sister, I am famished!”
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“Well...that worked up an appetite.”
Spike rolled over, tossing an arm across Buffybot as they lay, very exposed, in the graveyard. They’d ditched Xander and Anya, and then gotten down to some right proper action. Spike had to admit it...that tosser Warren did good work.
“You’d like to feed, wouldn’t you?” Buffybot asked, smile plastered on her face, “...devour some helpless victim. You know I can’t let you.”
Grinning, Spike propped himself up, leaning overtop the robot. “Think you could stop me, Slayer?”
“If I had to, yes. But I don’t want to fight you, Spike. Don’t make me.”
“I like the way you fight,” Spike drawled, leaning down and kissing Buffybot passionately. He was just about ready for another go, Spike thought...the smell of freshly lain earth was getting him pretty excited. Maybe this time they could do it in an empty grave...
A shout broke the night air, and Spike and Buffybot both turned automatically in the direction the disturbance came from. Other voices followed shortly enough, and Spike dutifully rolled off of Buffybot and sprang to his feet, dressing as he went.
“Are those friends of yours, Spike?” Buffybot asked, getting to her feet behind her man, straightening her skirt and knocking some of the dirt off for good measure. Spike shushed her and peered ahead.
Through some of the trees and headstones, Buffybot and Spike made out six figures. A cursory heat scan and examination of facial deformities told Buffybot that most of them were vampires. They seemed to be enjoying themselves, stomping through the cemetery. They were dragging a young girl with them.
“Bloody Hell...how many of us are OUT tonight?”
“Evil afoot!” Buffybot started charging forward. “Time to slay!”
“Hold it!”
Spike reached over, halting Buffybot before she could get past him. He leaned in, pointing towards the vampires as they moved on.
“Gotta play this one cool, love. The little poncers have some take-out along for the ride. Can’t let the poor innocent maidens get mussed, now can we?”
Buffybot stared forward, updating her files and checking her combat scenarios. “You’re right...I protect the innocent! We should ask them to release her, THEN slay them.”
Spike rolled his eyes. Maybe Warren hadn’t done as good a job as he’d thought. “I’ve got a better idea. But you’ll have to follow my lead...can you do that?”
Eager, Buffybot nodded wildly. “Of course! I’ll follow you anywhere, Spike.”
Watching as closely he could the path the vampire gang was taking, Spike grew serious. “May just have to put that to the test, pet. Come on.”
**************************************************************************
Tossing down an old copy of Rolling Stone, Lorne let out a long breath and glanced up at the clock again. He didn’t remember it taking this long...and did Pook EVER get new magazines? He looked around in vain, wondering for the hundredth time if he shouldn’t have just stayed at home today.
He chuckled. Should’a, would’a, could’a.
The nearby door creaked open, and a second later Buffybot emerged, to Lorne’s relief. He got up out of the la-z-boy he’d been waiting in and put on a smile.
“All done?”
Nodding, Buffybot turned back briefly, peering onto the darkened room she’d just stepped out of. “Thank you very much, sir! I hope your brood propogates exponentially!”
Pleased that Buffybot had remembered to say what he’d asked, Lorne leaned past her and waved inside. “Yeah, I owe you one, Pook! Come on by the club once I reopen, the Zimas are on me! Love ya!”
Pulling the door closed, Lorne took Buffybot aside, expectant. “So? Let’s see it, sugar, don’t keep Lorney waiting.”
After experiencing a flutter of anticipation, Buffybot handed her freshly-forged driver’s licence to Lorne, who took it eagerly. Botty watched him as he examined the new document, measuring his reactions. For various reasons, she was a little nervous about it.
“That Pook’s an artist,” Lorne finally said, “...never takes a bad picture. Not that I expect that happens to you very often. Where’d you come up with the name?”
Buffybot smiled. “I couldn’t quite decide on one, actually...at first I was going to use Tina, which was the name of a pretty robot from a comic book I read once. Then I remembered I have ANOTHER name, but that one is supposed to be a secret? So I didn’t use that either. Finally I just created a program to pick one at random. That seemed easiest.”
Holding the licence up approvingly, Lorne gave it one last look. “Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, ‘Joan B.Summers’,” he said graciously, before asking, “...what’s the ‘B’ stand for?”
Buffybot just smiled again. Lorne clued in after a second. “Gotcha. Well, why don’t we take this baby out for a spin?”
Tossing Buffybot her new licence, Lorne noticed the robotic Miss making with a mild frown. “I’m not sure about this, Lorne...aren’t fake ID’s illegal?”
“Only technically,” Lorne replied, raising an eyebrow, “...why, is that a deal breaker?”
“Well, no...I CAN break the law. It just doesn’t seem right, is all. Laws are there to protect us!”
Lorne put a hand on Buffybot’s shoulder. “Don’t sweat it, my sumptuous slice of sweet potato pie. There aren’t actually any laws in place yet for giving robots licences to drive. Go figure. Consider this just correcting that oversight, dig?”
That seemed to make sense enough to Buffybot. And she was awfully looking forward to driving. Try as she might, she couldn’t keep the small surge of pride from creeping out of her emotion centers. She’d never had her very own identification before! Sure, she’d used Buffy’s for a time, but this was...hers. Her very own. She nodded approval.
“All righty then! When should we get going? I’m all ready to party down!”
Standing to one side, Lorne bowed gallantly and swept an arm forwards. “Lead the way, Joan.”
The black van backed quickly into the abandoned theatre they’d been using as a temporary hangout, and Erik pulled the garage door closed immediately. Ridge slowed to a stop and killed the engine, hopping out and to the ground a moment later. Regulation combat boots as always, Erik noticed. He grunted.
“Ready and raring to go, jarhead?”
“This is the big time, Erik,” Ridge answered efficiently, letting a small grin show itself. “Where’s the eye?”
Erik nodded towards the back. “Him and Bob are getting their game faces on. It’s starting to stink to high hell in there.”
“Long as they’re ready.” Ridge pulled an impressive looking pistol out of a side holster and started routinely inspecting it, like a reflex. Erik looked over his shoulder.
“And your date..?”
“She’s in the van, checking the equipment. We’ll do one run through here before we leave. No mistakes.”
With a flourish, Erik reared back and let out a loud yelp of laughter. “You really love this, don’t you meatbag?”
A door in the back opened, and Bob and ‘the eye’ came into sight. Ridge slid his weapon back in it’s holster without a sound.
“Never hurts to show a little initiative, bloodsucker. Let’s take it by the numbers...”
Hours, and one highly efficient but meandering drive later, Buffybot parked Lorne’s car on a side street, excited out of her little robotic heart at having driven a car so far. Even her vague memories of driving a flying car in the future didn’t compare, somehow. Lorne had been nervous at first, but had mostly dozed for the last hour and a half, humming showtunes in his sleep as Botty took the opportunity to stick her head out the window at high speeds (but not speeding...she’d broken enough laws for one day, thank you very much).
Lorne roused himself with a stretch and a yawn, then led Buffybot a few blocks away to the club. It was unremarkable at first glance. Although she thought the sight of a black limousine across the street was of note. A small group was gathered outside the club, mostly smokers. Buffybot noted more than a few demons among their number, but Lorne had warned her to expect that. He assured her that, like his club, violence was not tolerated as such events. She trusted him now, classifying him firmly as a friend. But her combat subroutines were on active status, just in case.
Bypassing a few Gungal spawn whooping it up on the sidewalk, Lorne and Buffybot came to the doorman, who lit up immediately upon seeing Lorne.
“There he is!” The doorman, a human, reached over and shook Lorne’s hand heartily. “Long time no see, bro. Little out of your way, hey?”
Lorne laughed. “Never too far for good times, J-man, am I right? How’s the crowd looking?”
The doorman shrugged noncomittaly, then noticed Buffybot. “Better, all of a sudden. Lorne, do I get an introduction?”
“Sorry...must have left my manners in the city. James, this is...”
“Joan B.Summers!” Buffybot announced, beating Lorne loudly to the punch, “....it’s very nice to meet you!”
James almost blushed in the bask of Buffybot’s ensuing smile. “Likewise. Well, any friend of this old crooner’s good enough for me. Y’know, the bosses have been worried about you, ever since that trouble a while back at your place...”
Lorne shook his head. “Ancient history, amigo. You’re looking at the new, improved Lorne. And don’t you worry, when the grand reopening comes along, you and the big kahunas are on the list.”
“Great news, man. Listen, Charlie’s just gotta read your friend here, and then you can both go on in, okay? Charlie?”
Buffybot glanced at Lorne, a little confused. “Read me?”
Behind James, a figure clad in a full length hood and cloak suddenly seemed to glide forward out of nowhere, a cloud of fine mist springing up around him. An eerie yellow glow started issuing forth from the space where Buffybot imagined his face was supposed to be. Lorne cleared his throat.
“Did I forget to mention this part? Sort of a security precaution the Carlsons have in place. They like to keep tabs on exactly what sort of demons, ghoulies, what have you are at any given show and...”
“R O B O T”
The word came from somewhere inside the thing called Charlie and seemed to flat in the air, and when the echo of it had vanished, it appeared the next moment on a list of names in James’ hand, right beside the designation ‘Joan B Summers’. Buffybot looked concerned. Charlie, meanwhile, vanished back into the shadows.
“Oh dear...you can tell..? I mean, I’m not....I’m not supposed to...”
Buffybot became momentarily flustered, as a few different programs and drives came into conflict. She didn’t technically have a program in place anymore urging her to keep her robotic identity a secret...Vincent had done away with that when he rebooted her. But it was still a deeply imprinted pattern of behaviour in her personality drives. She wasn’t sure how she felt about some ghostie just popping out of a nightclub and letting everyone know about her like that. What was the point of getting a fake ID at all?
“Anything wrong?” James seemed concerned, though not at all about the fact that a robot was standing in front of him. As a doorman, he did tend to see it all.
Noticing Buffybot’s distress, Lorne stepped forward and put an arm over James’ shoulder, leaning in conspiratorially. “Thing is, J-man...the little mechanical marvel here is actually travelling very incognito these days. Top secret, you copy? Now, I know it’d be a weensy bending of the rules but, as a favour, do you think maybe you could just jot her down as a human? For old times sake?”
James looked dubious, glancing from Lorne to the imploring Buffybot, who was maximizing her sensory manipulation program for all it was worth. He hemmed and hawed for what seemed to Lorne like ages, until...
“Ah, all right. But you owe me.”
James started making the change in his logbook, and both Lorne and Buffybot smiled quite thankfully. “You’re a good egg, James. I’ll swing you a few Lakers tickets, toot sweet.”
“Thank you VERY much, James,” Buffybot added, leaning in and giving him a quick kiss on the cheek, “...I hope I see you later on!”
James smiled and nodded as Lorne directed Buffybot inside and down the stairs, waving all the way back up at James until he was out of sight. At length, the doorman gave his head a shake and let out a long exhale.
“Wow,” he muttered gravely, “...that’s one helluva robot.”
One short flight of stairs later, Buffybot and Lorne made their way into the heart of Down Below, the club in question. The air was filled with voices both demon and human, fighting to be heard over the loud music pumping over the stereos. Buffybot looked about excitedly, taking a few scans of the area for her files. The club seemed to be primarily horseshoe-shaped, with a bar running the length of the inside. Red booths and tables adorned the outer rim, except for the middle where a small stage was awaiting the bands. The lights were low, and the crowd was anxious. Buffybot was too.
“This is wonderful!” she shouted, hoping Lorne could hear her over the din, “...do you think the band will start soon?”
“Probably,” Lorne shouted back, looking a little uncomfortable, “...why don’t you grab us a table, darling? I’ll round up some refreshments.”
Buffybot returned Lorne a thumbs up and he turned, heading for the bar. Having noted an empty booth in her scans, Botty plotted a course and made her way through the other patrons at high speed. Luck was with her, and she just managed to get to the table before a trio of college students, and one creature with three eyes and scaly paws that Botty didn’t have in her database. She started a file nevertheless, hoping she might have the opportunity later on to find out what kind of demon he was. There’s always time to learn!
It wasn’t long before Lorne returned, carrying two colourful drinks. The first band (the Cosmic Puppets, according to the poster Buffybot had noticed outside) was setting up onstage as Lorne shimmied in close.
“That’s better,” he breathed, raising a glass and sliding the other towards Botty, “...fella could lose his singing voice, shouting all the time in here.”
“Oh, you don’t have to shout on my account, Lorne. I can read lips just fine!”
Winking, Lorne clinked glasses with Buffybot. “Good to know, little lady. Cheers.”
“Cheers!”
Buffybot took a gulp of what her mandibular chemical analysis array was identifying as a seabreeze just as a few stray refrains started emanating from guitars onstage. She recognized the ritual of ‘sound check’ from the Bronze, and knew it meant actual music would begin to be played shortly. A huge smile crossed her lips.
“Thank you so much for inviting me here, Lorne. I think it’s going to be great fun, don’t you?”
Lorne gave Buffybot a halfhearted smile in return, holding his drink close to his mouth. “I hope so, bright eyes.”
Taking a quick gulp, Lorne’s eyes drifted towards the door. He seemed uneasy.
“I hope so...”
****************************************************************************
“Whats’a matter, little girl? You scared or something? HUH??”
“Yeah...heh heh....y’scared? Scared?”
“Oh God...please, just let me go...please...”
The vampires howled with laughter, circling the girl as she huddled desperately on the filthy floor of the crypt they had forced her into. A few personal objects were strewn here and there, and one of the vampires headed towards the stereo setup, stepping over what appeared to be a human skull to get there. He switched the unit on and inserted a CD, his finger hovering over the play button.
“Damn, I love it when they start begging like that,” he drawled, curling his upper lip hungrily, “...really lends that extra touch of, what’s it called...authenticity. Gets me right into the moment.”
The others hooted in agreement and the vampire pressed play, starting a raucous song blasting. He let out a savage yell, his face already contorted in demonic hunger. On the floor, the young girl shrieked, pulling her arms helplessly over her head. The vamps circled closer, a few of them reaching down and swatting at her, laughing.
“Hey, I got an idea! Let’s each grab a limb and start a-pulling! First one to rip somethin’ off gets first bites.”
“Don’t be dumb, Lenny.” A vampire sporting a ripped tee-shirt and bandanna stepped up, hovering over the terrified captive. “There’s not enough of her for that. Need more arms.”
“I ain’t dumb! One of us could grab her head!”
The girl whimpered, holding herself tighter. The vampires laughed.
“That’s a thought...”
The voice rolled in from behind, and the vampires turned in surprise. Two strangers were standing in the doorway, a man and a woman. The man who spoke was holding the girl by the throat. He smiled, cocking his head to one side. As he did, his human face faded, replaced by a vampiric countenance that seemed to put the collected demons at ease.
“...OR, you could just add a few more ingredients to the pot.”
Spike grinned, then hauled off and shoved Buffybot forward, sending her flying through several of the vamps. She spun, skidding to a stop on her bottom beside the other girl. The vampires stared at her, then back at Spike.
“Evening, gents. Name’s Spike. Hope you don’t mind me crashin’ like this, but, it sounded like a good party. Thought I’d join you.”
The vampires just continued to stare, blinking occasionally. At length, the one by the stereo stepped forward. “What makes you think you can just bust in like this? Think you’re good enough for us?”
Spike ignored him, looking about the crypt. “The Teller Crypt, huh? I had my eye on this place for a while too. Good acoustics.”
“I asked you a question, dude!”
Slouching, Spike fixed the vampire with a patronizing glare. “Come on, mate. Where’s the spirit of solidarity among the soulless? I brought snacks!”
Motioning towards Buffybot, the vampires followed the suggestion, staring at the robot. She did her best to remain passive, although her programs were prompting her to battle the evil vampires posthaste. But Spike had said he had a plan, and she had to obey Spike. He was super smart, and had tight abs.
Turning cautiously back to Spike, Lenny stepped a foot forward.
”You...you like Green Day?”
Spike finished lighting a cigarette and took a long draw. “Oh, they’re just great. Absolutely.”
Lenny grinned in approval, turning to the others. “Man, he’s cool. Let’s crank it!”
The others howled, turning the music up a few notches. Spike exhaled slowly, rolling his eyes. He mouthed a word noiselessly in Buffybot’s direction, and she stared curiously. After exhausting her online data for a match, she turned to the girl at her side.
“Excuse me...”
Tapping the girl softly, Buffybot elicited a frightened whimper before the girl slowly peeked her head out. She looked up warily, and Buffybot smiled back.
“Hi there! I’m Buffy. I was just wondering...do you know what a ‘poser’ is?”
**************************************************************************
The stage lights dimmed and the stereo kicked in again as the first band took their leave. From her seat, Buffybot clapped furiously. Beside her, Lorne tried to get the ringing out of his ears.
“That was wonderful! Didn’t you think that was wonderful?”
“Did you say wonderful twice, or is that just the echo in my head?”
“I did say it twice,” Buffybot confirmed, “...did you enjoy the show?”
“Well, they’ve got the volume part down, I’ll give them that. My horns are still vibrating.”
Buffybot smiled. “Thank you for explaining about the dancing earlier.”
“Glad to be of service, sweetness.”
When the first band had started playing, a crowd of patrons assembled in the front of the stage, slamdancing and moshing away to the music. Lorne had had to restrain Buffybot from intervening, taking pains to explain to her that they were in fact dancing, and that a fight had not broken out. Although troubled at first, Buffybot had adjusted to the notion quickly enough, starting a subfolder in her dancing concept database for this new item. She seemed pleased after that.
“And thank you again for the drinks,” Buffybot continued, “...I wish I could buy some, but I spent the last of my money recently on Scotch.”
“Hey, tonight’s all mine, gorgeous. Consider it payback for popping that pesky parasite. So what’s up next on tonight’s playbill?”
Buffybot flashed a consultation with her database. “A band called ‘the Oz Squad’.” She grinned. “I have several files on ‘Oz’. One is for a person my friends in Sunnydale knew. The other is for a fictional land in an old movie.”
“Ah, Judy...” Lorne’s eyes drifted for a moment, recalling the ruby slippers that had almost been his so recently. “And watch what you classify as fictional, my hardwired honey. Some of us happen to hail from somewhere over the rainbow.”
Buffybot smiled, adding that suggestion to her conversational matrix. “I hope the band starts playing soon,” she noted, “...I think I may try ‘moshing’ this time. Would you like to mosh, Lorne?”
“Oh, no. The view’s plenty exciting from back here. But you go ahead, sweetheart. Knock yourself out.”
“You don’t think I might knock my systems offline, do you? I’m awfully resilient to...oh. That’s an expression, isn’t it?”
Lorne nodded. “I prefer my dancing a little more dignified. A nice waltz...maybe a jitterbug or two.”
Quietly, Buffybot updated her file on Lorne with his preferred dancing techniques, although she still had her mechanical heart set on experimenting with slamdancing during the next set. Although she had to concede, the jitterbug sounded, if only from it’s name, awfully fun as well. Maybe she and Lorne could try it later on. That would be nice.
James pulled his coat on, feeling a mild chill as the night grew darker. A few clubbers had stepped out for another smoke break in between bands. He hoped he would have a chance to step inside during this set...this next group was supposed to be wild.
A dark van turned onto the block, driving slowly up the street towards the club. Bored, James watched it pull over just a space ahead of the limo across the street. Two musclemen in neat suits stood outside the more expensive ride, standing stock still and unreadable with their shades and headsets. James wondered for the hundredth time tonight who they were here for.
The van switched off it’s lights and a man and a woman stepped down from the cab. The man seemed human, wearing camo pants and a tight green tee, military style. A frown crossed James’ face as he noticed the holster.
The woman beside him was a definite demon, though he didn’t recognize the species right off. Reptilian, it seemed. She had a studded leather jacket, and a thin black mohawk on her scaly head that extended nearly a foot. She looked pretty good, too.
The pair strode smartly across the street towards James, seemingly ignoring the other clubbers around them. Ridge stepped up to James, wearing a bright smile beneath his regulation haircut. James seemed a little cautious in return.
“Nice night for a party, huh?”
Glancing at Ridge and the woman, James nodded politely, pulling out his logbook. “Going inside?”
Ridge continued smiling. “You’d better believe it. Wouldn’t miss THIS show.”
James pointed towards Ridge’s holster. “Afraid I’ll have to take the weapon. Strict policy.”
Glancing towards his sidearm, Ridge looked suddenly embarrassed. “Oh! Right, sorry. Habit."
The woman at Ridge’s side let out a short, sibilant laugh as Ridge unholstered his weapon. James tensed, but a second later Ridge flipped the pistol over, holding it by the barrel. He started handing it towards the doorman.
“Oops!” Ridge suddenly stopped, and pulled the weapon towards him. It was a weird looking gun, James had to say. Probably wasn’t even real, he imagined.
Ridge flipped a small switch on the weapon’s side, then extended it towards James again.
“Safety first,” he said with a grin. James gave him a leer, then reached his hand out and grabbed the gun by the handle.
James’ whole body went tight, and he shook violently as the massive electric charge coursed into him. He thought his teeth would shatter for a moment, until his consciousness faded to black. There was a small wisp of smoke as the charge wore off, and James slumped to the ground in a heap. The smokers and others around suddenly froze.
Ridge flipped the small switch again, then neatly returned the gun to his holster. He took a moment to size up the crowd around him, then gave his companion a smile.
“Your turn.”
“Sweet.” She smiled a sharp-toothed thanks, the turned and hissed angrily at the onlookers. Several of them dropped their smokes.
Her body seemed to come alive in new ways then, arms stretching forward out of her sleeves. Her hands altered their shape as they literally snaked forward, leaping and snatching the clubbers in their grasp. They started squirming violently, but they were all already stuck fast. The woman roared, her serpentine back arching malevolently in the glare of the streetlight. Rising upwards, she gave a terrific yank, pulling all of her trapped victims off their feet and flinging them across the street. Those who didn’t hit the pavement first collided with their van, falling to an unconscious heap at it’s base.
The two at the limo started moving before the bodies had all hit the ground, reaching for weapons underneath their jackets. Before they could clear the, the back doors of the van flung open. Erik and Bob were standing on either side. And in between...
Erik smiled, baring fangs. “Say cheese, rent-a-cops.”
A sudden wave of heat emerged then, and even Erik and Bob could feel it from their safe perch. The two goons had about a second to scream before it was all over. Bob grinned mercilessly as the scent of cooked flesh reached his nostrils. He stepped down from the van.
“Bobby?”
Ridge looked expectantly, and Bob reached back into the van, pulling a small vial back out. He hurled it across the street, high in the air. The woman reached up, and up, snatching it out of the sky with cobra fangs. As she lowered it gracefully the fangs receded, until at last she held the vial in her silky hands. She gave it to Ridge, laying a kiss at the base of his neck.
Stepping up to James’ still form, Ridge stared forward at the shadow on the wall. He flipped the lid off the vial.
“Shadzoa.”
At the word, Charlie suddenly appeared as if pulled against his will, out of the shadow. Having no face, Ridge couldn’t quite tell if he was surprised. But he bet it was so.
Charlie’s form swirled and tore, spiralling with a ghostly howl through the air, towards the vial. In seconds, he had been pulled entirely inside, and Ridge resealed it with a click. Holding the miniature prison up, he peered inside with a rueful smirk.
“Sorry, Charlie.”
Still quite happily unaware of any troubles without, Buffybot and Lorne downed a round of shooters with a pair of stinger demons. Though nervous when they’d approached her table, Buffybot soon learned they were both old regulars at Lorne’s club. Life in LA sure was taking some adjustment.
“Salud, boys! See ya real soon, okay? Ciao!”
The demons made some clicking noises and waved, stomping off towards the bar. Lorne smiled at their departing forms.
“Nice kids. Always sing about their Moms, the softies. You should hear the pipes on Kul-ra. To die for.”
“Which one is that?”
“The one with the really pronounced jagged spines on his forehead. Great range.”
Buffybot nodded and smiled, turning when her audio receptors picked up guitar activity and some stray cymbal crashes. Her excitement programs kicked in once again.
“Look, Lorne! The next band is starting!”
“Oh, joy.” Lorne slumped backwards as Buffybot bounced with glee. Quietly, he wondered why he had forgotten to bring earplugs.
A gap in the crowd formed as they shifted around the stage, and Buffybot got a clear view of the members taking their places. One individual strode hurriedly to the front, guitar slung across his body, and an alert flashed in Buffybot’s heads-up. She froze, consulting her files once again...yes, she was sure. Despite some minor hairstyle alterations, he matched her file photos exactly.
“It’s Oz,” she muttered, and Lorne just managed to catch the words.
“Pardon?”
“In the band,” Buffybot replied, looking back at Lorne while motioning towards the stage, “...it’s that boy Oz I mentioned to you! From Sunnydale. He’s in the band.”
“Hunh. Small world.”
Buffybot turned back, staring cautiously. “I never actually met him, but I have a full file on him. He used to date my friend Willow. Later she became gay? But before, she dated Oz. He’s a werewolf.”
“Love a gal who samples the whole buffet,” Lorne jibed, toying with his drink glass. “So how come I’m getting this heavy anxiety vibe off you all of a sudden?”
“Well, Oz knew Buffy, of course. But I’m not Buffy! But if he sees me, he’ll THINK I’m Buffy! What would I do then? I don’t want them to know I’m here...what if he saw the others and said ‘I saw Buffy in LA!’ Then they would say, ‘but Buffy is not in LA!’ And THEN they would say...”
“Hold that thought, my mimeographical muffin. First he’s got to see you, right? It’s a big club...well, sort of big, anyway. Just keep your head down, and...”
“HELLO, LA!!”
Oz suddenly shouted into the microphone, pumping a fist into the air and sending a squeal of feedback screeching about the walls. The audience howled appreciatively, and Oz seemed to be enjoying the moment, staring around and sizing up his crowd.
That was when he spotted Buffybot.
“Oh dear.” Botty immediately propped a smile up, realizing from the recognition on Oz’ face that she had been caught. She gave a little wave, even as a wave of anxiety started pooling out of her emotion generators. No slamdancing now.
Oz stared in stark surprise for a second straight at Buffybot, then he seemed to not-so-furtively glance at the spaces around her, sniffing the air as he did so. After a moment of this, he let a grin of his own come alive.
“And a big shout out to SUNNYDALE! WWHOOOOOOOAAAAA!!”
Pointing directly at Buffybot, Oz howled and rang a quick, loud riff off his guitar. Buffybot had to giggle at his enthusiasm, although she was starting to have a mild problem with the information in her file on him.
“Might as well just enjoy the show, kitten,” Lorne suggested, patting Buffybot on the shoulder, “...nothing you can do now ‘til intermission.”
Nodding, Buffybot had to concur, and she leaned back in her booth. A second later Oz turned to the crowd proper, staring out at them with a savage face.
“KICK OUT THE JAMS, MOTHER-“
“Goodness!”
Powerful strains poured fast and loud from Oz and his ‘squad’, and Buffybot listened intently, rechecking her file on the boy. Then she consulted her online dictionary, as she felt suddenly awfully unsure if the word ‘taciturn’ meant what she had thought it did.
***************************************************************************
“...so after I had some fun, got my bearings, y’know, I went and found all my old homies again and turned all of them, too! And now we got, like, this awesome vampire posse going! Isn’t that awesome??”
Amidst a few hoots and hollers, Spike managed to swallow his distaste and put on a good face. “Boys, it’s just bloody brilliant is what it is.”
“Ha ha ha haa!” Lenny nearly fell off the dusty chest he had perched himself on. “‘Bloody brilliant’! Totally British, man, that’s so cool.”
“Yeah, Spike, you’re all right,” the leather-clad vamp offered, grabbing a bottle of beer off the floor, “...you should’a hooked up with us sooner, man.”
“Oh, don’t I wish.” Spike worked hard to keep the facade of interest up, taking an extra-long drag off his smoke. Across the crypt, Buffybot waited more or less patiently in a corner, with the girl the other vampires had brought in.
She wasn’t sure about all this sitting around, to be quite honest. Spike had said that she had to protect the innocent girl, and that certainly jibed with her Slayer programming! But she was supposed to slay vampires too, and there were five of them right there, just waiting to be staked. Except Spike said she should wait until his plan ‘kicked in’, which she was sort of sure she understood. She would do what Spike told her, whatever the plan. Spike was the dreamiest!
“Are...are we gonna die?”
Buffybot turned her head, looking at the face of the girl next to her, her face stained with dust and tears, hands shaking. She looked awfully sad, Buffybot thought. Being sad was no fun! She pondered the girl’s question as she tugged softly at Buffybot’s coatsleeve.
“Humans are mortal,” she recited flatly, “...mortals die. I’m a human!”
A fresh sob shook the girl, her face falling into Buffybot’s shoulder. Buffybot wondered why she leaning on her like that.
At length, she decided it was because she was the Slayer, and people depended on her to save them! That made sense. It was her duty to save the girl from the vampires. No matter what.
“Don’t worry,” Buffybot soothed, patting the girl’s head mechanically, “...I’ll save you. I’m the Slayer!”
The girl sniffled, a little confused. Before she could ask what Botty meant, the robot rose to her feet, facing the vampires. Surely this wouldn’t mess up Spikey’s plan, would it? Of course not.
“Excuse me!”
The conversation stopped suddenly, and all the vampires, Spike included, turned their heads en masse towards the pleasantly smiling Buffybot. They appeared taken aback...except Spike, who looked positively annoyed. Buffybot waved briefly, then pointed down towards the girl.
“I was wondering if she could leave now,” she asked sweetly, “...she’s awfully sad. And I have to protect her.”
A moment passed before the vampires collectively burst into hysterical laughter. This time, Lenny DID fall off his perch, but he didn’t seem to mind. One of them turned to Spike.
“Dude, where’d you FIND that chick? Psyche ward, or what?”
“Man, she looks like sweet college meat to me, arrooooooooo!”
“I think we should do ‘em both at once. You think we should do ‘em both at once? Whatta you guys think? Both at once?”
Buffybot stared forward somewhat blankly, not understanding why no one was answering her question. She found it a little rude, actually. Spike didn’t seem to be enjoying the banter either, and he took one last power drag, then tossed the butt violently down. He leapt to a stand.
“I’ve got a suggestion, mates.”
Striding through the vamps, Spike had all eyes on him as he marched towards Buffybot. She lit up at his approach, and they stared intently into each others eyes. Maybe now he would explain more of his plan to her. He’d been a little vague earlier...but he was Spike. He was dark and mysterious.
“Since I’m a guest in your fine home,” he continued, smirking cruelly at Buffybot, “...why don’t you do me the honour of treating yourself to my modest little gift?”
As he said it, Spike shoved forward hard on Buffybot’s chest, knocking her back and into the stone wall. The girl on the floor screamed, and Buffybot collapsed loudly onto the floor. A few of her systems had to reset automatically, and her logic drives were especially having trouble. Spike reached down and pulled the frightened girl to her feet, spinning her close to him. His hand wrapped around her throat.
“Gentlemen,” Spike bellowed, making a gesture of offering with his free hand in Buffybot’s direction, “...help yourselves. She’s on me.”
The vampires slowly got to their feet, seeming a little unsure. Their eyes moved slowly from Spike to Buffybot, who was sitting motionless. She stared back up at Spike, unable to understand what was happening. Was this Spike’s plan?
“So...one at a time, then?” One of them finally asked, cautious. Another stepped forward to Spike.
“You don’t want any?”
Spike snarled a grin, applying new pressure to the girl’s throat. She whimpered.
“I insist. Have your way with her, lads,”
Spike glared down at Buffybot, rubbing the girl’s cheek against his. Buffybot felt a logic drive conflict coming on.
“Me and this one...we’ll just watch.”
***************************************************************************
The set finished, Buffybot watched carefully while Oz and his band removed their gear from the stage. She had contemplated the option of simply leaving before he would have the chance to come over, but she really WAS having a fun time. Besides, that wouldn’t be very fair to Lorne, and he had been so nice in inviting her out.
Instead, she was carefully going over what information her files had on Daniel Osbourne, aka Oz, in preparation for a likely conversation. She would have to pretend to be Buffy...which, being the first task she had ever been charged with, should be no problem. Although it HAD been a while.
“You’ll be fine, darlin’. Just don’t blow any fuses.”
“I won’t,” Buffybot replied calmly, silently performing a triple-check on her microfuse hardware, to make sure they were indeed in no danger of overheating. She smiled when the results were clear.
Resolved, the brave little robot sat up in her seat, and watched as Oz, accompanied by another human in a loud red blazer, made their way to her. She put on her winningest smile as they drew closer. Lorne sipped his drink, glancing about nervously.
“Buffy! Hi!”
Buffybot waved back while Oz and his friend stepped up to their table and sat down opposite her. This was it.
“Hello Oz! It’s so good to see you. How are you?”
Oz smiled, flashing teeth. “Great, great. Man, I sure didn’t expect to see YOU here.” Wiping his brow, Oz glanced briefly at Lorne. Buffybot did the same.
“Oz, this is my friend Lorne. He runs a nightclub!”
“Hey man.” Oz leaned far over the table to shake Lorne’s hand. “Great horns!”
Casting eyes upwards for a second, Lorne grinned. “Thanks. And the pleasure’s all mine. That was a pretty peppy performance up there, pard’ner.”
“Glad you liked it. I think I’m really starting to get the hang of that guitar. Man, Buff, it’s great to see you. How’ve you been? How’s everyone?”
“Oh, I’m fine!” Buffybot continued smiling, thinking it was going quite well so far. “Everyone is fine. You and your band were great, I thought. Very fast and loud!”
“Thanks. Didn’t think this sorta music was really your bag. Glad you came out, though. What, are you in town visiting Angel or something?”
“Yes! Yes, I am!” That was MUCH better than the cover story she had come up with, Buffybot thought. Very sensible.
“Cool. It’s, uh...just you, then? None of the old gang here?”
“Just me,” Buffybot replied. Oz was likely hoping to see Willow. Willow used to be his girlfriend! She hoped he wasn’t sad that she wasn’t here. “You haven’t been back to Sunnydale in a while?”
Shaking his head, Oz leaned back. “Nah. Kinda giving that place a wide berth these days. This’ the closest I’ve been since the whole animal experimentation thing. With me as the animal.”
“I understand. Being captured by the Initiative must have been awfully traumatic.”
“It was an experience, that’s for sure. Say, you still with that dude, the army guy? Riley?”
Botty shook her head, adopting a somber facial expression. “No. We broke up. It was very sad.”
“Bummer. He seemed cool.”
The fellow beside Oz cleared his throat loudly, and Oz suddenly leaned back forward.
“Oh, man, sorry! Buffy, Lorne, this is Axel. He’s our manager. And sort of my personal trainer, I guess.”
“Axel Avalon,” the man announced, flashing a broad smile underneath his bald head, “...proto-satanic mystic and rock promoter, at your service. Charmed.”
Axel reached over and shook both Buffybot’s and Lorne’s hands, and Botty started a new file. “Axel’s been working with me on the whole Werewolf thing,” Oz started, excited, “...he’s really been helping me turn it around, sorta take control of it in this new way. Man, does something smell bad in here or what??”
Oz scowled briefly, crinkling his nose and looking about distractedly. Buffybot sniffed the air herself, and was having trouble making out any one particular pleasant or otherwise scent among the mass of people and demons. She opted for just smiling.
“I knew a werewolf once,” Lorne offered, curious, “...nice enough fella. I’ve never heard of any ways to control it, though. Besides a good, strong set of chains.”
“Oz learned how to control his Lycanthropic transformations in Tibet,” Buffybot suddenly replied, hoping to contribute to the conversation, “...he chants, and uses beads!”
Oz chuckled. “Will gave you the whole rundown, huh?”
Nodding, Buffybot leaned forward. “She was very proud of you, she sure was.”
“I don’t know about that,” Oz noted glumly, “...I think my grand success with the wolf came to a crashing halt when I tried to eat her...friend.”
“That’s where I come in,’ Axel announced. “I met the Oz when he got his new band started up. They stank back then, by the way.”
“We really, really did.,” Oz verified, then sniffed the air with distaste once again.
“I figured,” Axel continued, leaning his elbows on the table, “...the big problem with most Werewolves was the duality. One nature conflicting with the other. Story of everyone’s life. So I came up with a ritual program to change all that.”
Beside him, Oz was growing agitated again. “Yeah! Buffy, you remember how little aspects of the wolf would come out sometimes in me, like...”
“You have a highly enhanced sense of smell!”
“Bingo!” Oz grinned, squinting slightly at Buffybot. “Man, something’s different about you. Can’t put my finger on it...”
Buffybot froze, hoping that Oz’ superior olfactory capacity wasn’t good enough to defeat her pheremonic generators, as Angels had. She waited as Oz seemed to ruminate intensely, but a second later he just laughed and carried on.
“Anyways...Axel here figured that the only way for me to really, y’know, come to terms with the wolf was to really BE the wolf.”
“He’s saying it all wrong,” Axel interrupted, “...the idea is for Oz to channel more and more of the Werewolf persona into his human one. Accept it as part of a whole new metapersona created by the original infection. And on the flipside, the Werewolf itself would start to take on some of Oz’ own personality traits. He could change, but maintain conscious control over the creature.”
“That sounds fascinating,” Buffybot said, starting one new concept file after another, “...is it working?”
“Well, I get into a lot more fights now,” Oz admitted, “...getting very aggressive, you know. And you probably noticed I’m a little more hyper than usual...”
Buffybot nodded. “You were taciturn before.”
That got a warm smile. “Taciturn. That’s a Willow word.”
Axel shook his head and slapped Oz hard on the back. “For my next trick, I’m going to work on dousing that torch our boy is carrying around. Someone’s gonna get burned one of these days.”
“Bite me,” Oz growled, mostly in jest, “...get your own love life moving, then you can worry about mine, ok?”
“Good point!” Pulling away from Oz, Axel cast a lopsided leer in Buffybot’s direction. “So, Buffy...I hear you’re single now?”
Buffybot smiled bashfully, and Oz groaned. “Yes! Currently I...”
Something caught Buffybot’s attention suddenly and she paused. “Lorne?”
“Hmm? What? I’m listening!”
Powering up her defensive/offensive systems, Buffybot scanned forward intently, watching the entrance. “Lorne, you said there was no violence allowed at this club, right? No weapons either?”
“Right,” Lorne affirmed, as Oz made another sour face, “...I mean, some of the usual club-scuffle from time to time, but nothing...”
“You guys smell that NOW, right? It’s so weird...”
Buffybot WAS beginning to register a highly unusual odor pattern emerging. “So could that vampire with the weapon be working for the club? Security?”
“What?” Lorne sat up, following Buffybot’s gaze. At the base of the stairs was a human figure (he didn’t ask how Buffybot knew it was a vamp) with a rather fantastic looking rifle in it’s hands. A little further behind him, up the stairs, he could vaguely make out a large shape, waiting. “No...the Carlsons don’t hire vampires.”
“All clear,” Oz mumbled, shaking his head as if in a daze, “...go.”
Buffybot glanced at him. “Go where?”
“No...that’s what it’s saying.” He stared over at Buffybot, looking amazed. “I don’t get it, but..that’s what the smell is SAYING. It’s saying ‘all clear...go’.”
Axel stared at Oz. “Oz, have you been getting into my stash..?”
Oz flared with annoyance, but before anything came of it the music in the background cut out, and so did the lights. A general murmur of unease started rumbling though the club. Buffybot switched to infra-red vision in an instant and began wide scans of the vicinity. The vampire at the door was standing his ground, grinning. Buffybot could detect a potent energy charge inside the weapon he was carrying...a weapon that seemed to at least partially match something described in her files.
“What’s going on?” Axel fumbled briefly at his seat, jostled by a passerby. “I can’t see a damn thing.”
Lorne just sank into his seat, clutching what remained of his latest drink. “Here we go...”
Shouts were starting to ring through the club, and Buffybot turned in their direction. She just caught sight of a massive humanoid...definitely a vampire, her scans returned...hurling several members of the third band and their crew from the stage and into the crowd. General chaos erupted in the dance floor, and a woman wearing strange goggles (possibly infra-red themselves, Buffybot’s tactical generators extrapolated) emerged from backstage.
“Buff, I think we’re getting seriously Sunnydaled here,” Oz muttered, breathing faster. “There’s more than one of them.”
“I make out four so far,” Botty replied, hoping Oz wouldn’t be too surprised by ‘Buffy’s ability to see as well or better than him in the absence of light. She was already starting to plot an attack course when the woman on stage seemed to stretch her arms out to fantastic length, in the direction of the crowd. As they grew, Buffybot noticed, they seemed to start hissing.
“Are there snakes in here?” Axel asked nervously, and screams now started echoing throughout the club. The woman’s arms wrapped around one of the patrons and started dragging him onstage. A few nearby patrons starting rushing for her, and others were stampeding towards the exits.
A loud flash of electricity sizzled through the enclosed space as the vampire at the door let loose with his weapon, slamming an approaching crowd with a powerful bolt. Three humans and two demons crumpled to the ground under the barrage, and the vampire laughed. Near the stage, a particularly massive-looking demon with four arms was trying to get at the snake-woman. The vampire pointed at him.
“Igo,” he shouted, “...take him out.”
A strange smell filled the air, and Oz stiffened. “Jesus. It’s talking. Whatever that smell is, it’s someone...”
There was a brief flash of red on the stairs behind the vampire, and Buffybot could just detect a stream of highly concentrated heat waves shooting across the club. There were shrieks, and on the dance floor the demon, and everyone around him, were burning in a moment. A second later they collapsed, smoldering husks, on the ground. Buffybot counted at least six dead in the strike, her battle computers struggling mightily to come up with a feasible course of action. They were on both sides of the...
“Your attention please!”
The voice came rumbling over the stereo system, and a second later the lights flashed on again. Buffybot, on her feet, switched vision modes back to normal. On the stage, the woman who had snatched someone out of the crowd had resumed her mostly humanoid shape, reptilian features notwithstanding. Beside her, the huge vampire was holding a boy, the one she’d taken, in a viselike grip around his neck.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” the voice carried on, and people started paying attention now, “...and whatever else we have here this evening. Please remain calm. This establishment is now under our total control. Do not approach the exits. Do not attempt any heroics or violence, or cause any commotion. If you want to know why not, look at the steaming piles of ash in front of the stage.”
Some people did just that, and now a few terrified sobs and screams rang forth. Buffybot continued to watch and scan. She didn’t like any of this one bit, no sir.
By the door, the vampire with the weapon started herding people further inside. “Everybody, get your asses along the wall! Away from the exits, there’s good little hostages. Move it!”
People and demons started crowding frantically towards the wall in question, where Buffybot and company remained at their booth. Oz was breathing heavily now.
“Everybody, stay put!” The vampire started towards the other side of the club, presumably to herd that side’s occupants into this area as well. With a smile, he pointed to the stairs.
“Remember...the eye is upon you.”
Buffybot got a good look now, as did everyone else. On the stairs was a monstrous, sluglike creature, it’s one, huge eye staring out towards them. The shell of it’s body was covered in small protrusions, feelers. It had a most intimidating quality about it. Buffybot couldn’t find any demon species in her current database to match it.
“That’s the one with the smells,” Oz breathed, keeping his voice low, “...the thing on the stairs. I think that’s how it’s talking to the others.”
“I’ve been taken hostage by people using scratch’n sniff technology?” Axel seemed flabbergasted. “Kill me now.”
“No one else is going to die,” Buffybot said decisively. Oz smiled ferally.
“You want to take them out? I’m itching to let it loose...could probably take that eyeball down before...”
“No.”
Buffybot sat back down as more clubbers were herded towards her. Oz, Lorne and Axel eyed her, waiting. She took a quick consultation with her tactical generators.
“They have superior numbers, positioning, firepower...and they have hostages. We can’t let innocent people get hurt.”
Curiously, Buffybot found her electronic mind flashing back to one of her earliest memories, one that Vincent had only recently recovered in her hard drive with his quantum scanning technology. She took a glance at her current opponents and smiled slyly.
“We have to play this one cool.”
“The Vyrani demon...looks like a skinny minotaur. Toxic touch. Third to the left of table six.”
Backstage, amidst several heavily unconscious bodies and more than a few still-smoking scorchmarks, Kyle Ridge observed the scene in the club with cool appraisal, scanning the crowd while consulting the list they had taken off the doorman. One by one, he rattled through the list, ordering Erik and Bob to separate the potentially dangerous ones into a single group via radio headset. Avoid any nasty surprises. There weren’t too many on the manifest that worried him, however. Mostly humans and a harmless collection of half-breeds, discounting the ones Igo had already incinerated. There was even a werewolf in one of the bands, he noticed with a grin. Full moon was a ways off, though. Idly, he recalled the specimen that had been captured one time back at the base, the one Finn busted loose. He’d been on maneuvers at the time that had...
Something on the manifest caught Ridge’s eye. He scanned the crowd briefly, then cast a glance to the sound engineer bound tightly in the corner, still awake.
“Which one’s the Empath demon?” Ridge returned his eyes to the security screens. “I like my mindreaders within reach.”
The soundman shook nervously. “I’m not sure...I-I mean, it could be any of those...”
Without a word or a look, Ridge pulled his sidearm out and levelled it at his hostage, who went white.
“Green skin,” the hostage suddenly relayed, “...red horns...nice suit. Came with a pretty blonde. They know him around here. He’s harmless.”
“I’m not.” Reholstering his weapon, Ridge toggled the camera until he found Lorne. He seemed to fit the bill, all right. Green skin, red horns...
Ridge was about to order the boys to corral him when he took a closer look at the ‘pretty blonde’ with the demon in question. He stared for a minute, wondering if he wasn’t seeing things. Coincidence, he usually thought, didn’t exist.
“I’ll be damned,” he muttered softly, a smile worming onto his face. He picked up the manifest and barked a terse “I’m coming out” into his headset before standing up. He spared a brief moment to drive a boot into the soundman, knocking him painfully out, then turned and headed for the stage.
“Soldier boy’s coming. We’re set.”
Erik smiled, keeping his shock rifle aimed at the crowd, while Bob dragged the Vyrani demon roughly into the isolated circle they’d set up for ‘special cases’. On the stage, the snake woman gave a squeeze to the boy she’d dragged from the crowd, a slick anticipatory smile weaving itself onto her gaunt face. He struggled for a moment, but gave up soon enough.
“Do you know who I am? He demanded, somewhat weakly. “People know I’m here...they’ll be...”
“If you’re waiting for a rescue from your bodyguards, young Master Gregson...”
Buffybot, listening intently from her table, recognized the voice right away as the one that had been issuing directives over the loudspeaker moments ago. It was the same one she’d picked up broadcasting into the headsets the vampires wore afterwards. He had military garb on, along with several weapons. He strode onto the stage without hesitation.
“...I’m afraid you’re in for a long wait. At the moment their carcasses have been fused rather violently to the fancy car that brought you here, and they’re in no shape to rescue anyone.”
Slow horror dawned on the boy’s face, and Buffybot recalled the two men by the long car outside. Then they had been here for the boy. Was he reason for this attack?
“Gregson, Gregson...where do I..?”
Axel seemed to be muttering to himself, thinking hard. It only took a moment for the recognition to kick in.
“Right! Gregson...as in son of Hamilton Gregson?”
Across the table, Lorne lit up as well. “Hey, yeah! Some bigwig in demon finance, is what I hear. Knows where all the treasures are buried. Helps ancient clans transmute their riches into modern cash, that sort of thing.”
“Practically made of money,” Axel added, “...his services ain’t cheap.”
“And baby banker up on stage had a target on his forehead as a result?” Oz scowled. “Terrific.”
“So it’s a kidnapping?” Buffybot accessed her criminal file, a mild frown forming. “I just DID a kidnapping.”
“Not planning any mischief, are you, Slayer?”
Buffybot froze as the question from the stage reached her audio receptors, and she turned to see the military man staring accusingly down towards her. Several of his colleagues were giving him surprised looks as well.
“Slayer?” The snake woman looked at Ridge, then towards Buffybot. She seemed doubtful. “What...her?”
“I think we’re busted, Buff.”
Oz whispered the too-late warning in Buffybot’s direction, and the military man hopped down off the stage, walking in her direction. The smaller of the two vampires also joined him, parting a group of hostages to make their way towards her. Buffybot continually upgraded her battle plans, though hoping it wouldn’t come to a fight right away. She still couldn’t account for enough of the innocent bystanders. For the moment, she concentrated on putting her best Buffy-face on...she just hoped these people didn’t know her TOO well. She had no file on any of them.
“This gorgeous little thing is the Slayer?” The vampire flashed fangs at Buffybot and her table. “Looks good enough to eat, don’t she?”
Buffybot glared at the two villains, and was about to access something particularly witty from her taunt-file when Ridge beat her to the punch.
“She may not remember me,” he said, keeping his eyes trained on Buffybot, who was internally relieved that she wasn’t supposed to know this man already.
“I didn’t work with her directly,” he continued, “...but I got more than enough of a good look at the so-called Slayer to remember her. Caused a lot of trouble, didn’t you...Buffy, was it?”
“That’s right,” Buffybot replied forcefully, still trying to extrapolate enough information to fake a good conversation, “...and trouble is my business, you creep.”
“Then we have something in common. You sure caused enough headaches for Finn, didn’t you? Got the poor guy drilled out of the force, is what I heard.”
An electronic epiphany occurred in Botty’s logic processors then. This man must have been a member of the Initiative! That made sense. He would recognize Buffy from her brief affiliation, and Riley Finn too. It would also help explain the military garb and the odd weaponry...
“He got fired for rescuing me!” Oz suddenly barked, unable to hold himself in any longer (and having apparently come to the same conclusion about Ridge as Buffybot), “But maybe you were on KP duty the day they tried to dissect me.”
Ridge flashed a grin towards Oz. “Are you THAT Werewolf?” He chuckled. “Small world.”
“Who are you?” Buffybot asked, confident now that she was not supposed to know already, “...and how come the Initiative is attacking this place? I thought they had disbanded after...”
“Stupid!”
The vampire laughed, pointing his weapon right at Buffybot. “The ‘Initiative’ isn’t doing this...WE are.”
“Oh, go ahead, Erik,”
From the stage, the snake-woman shouted out gleefully. “You know you’ve been dying to make introductions all night.”
Smiling, the vampire, Erik, backed away to a more central location, while Ridge kept a close eye on Buffybot. She kept still, hoping this was the part where the super-villains exposed too much of their plans. They did that sometimes. It was a common character flaw.
“Let me tell you a story,” Erik started, shouting out to his assembled captives with showmanship, his long trenchcoat swirling around him. Buffybot noted it reminded her of Spike a little.
“..about a legendary posse of vampire warriors. They called themselves...The Three.”
“The THREE!!”
From near the door, Bob shouted out with a raised fist, snarling wildly. Erik howled back.
“Yeah, the Three were the most feared, famous gang around. I’d heard stories of them ever since I was sired, and I thought...well, Hell, that’s the life for me! “
“Kill,” Bob shouted forcefully, “...Kill ALL!!”
“My man Bob here agreed with me, as you can tell,” Erik noted, “...but then I got an idea. Why stop at three? Strength in numbers, after all.”
“Strong! Bob STRONG!!”
Spreading his arms wide, Erik stood demonstratively in the center of the dance floor. “We’re The Five,” he announced with pomp, “...and you lucky people have the honour of being here when it all begins. You’ve already met Bob...”
“Bob kill all!! Strong Bob!!”
“...the fella with the killer stare up on the stairs...that’s Igo.”
A few wary eyes glanced towards the massive, silent Igo on his deadly perch up high, staring down at them all with his giant solitary orb. His feelers bristled slightly of their own accord, and another odd smell issued forth.
“Igo used to be worshipped as a God down in Central America,” Erik continued, “...until a nasty civil war wiped out most of his subjects. Guy was a little down on his luck when we found him. Communicates by smell...took forever to figure out he didn’t just, you know, stink.”
Another smell issued forth, and Oz had to restrain a laugh.
“The military meatbag here, well, he’s a different story.” Erik motioned towards Ridge, who shot him a defiant glare.
“You talk too much.” With a resigned sigh, he took a few steps away from Buffybot. “Ridge, Kyle. Corporal, United States Armed Forces. Deceased.”
That gave Buffybot pause...her scans so far had indicated nothing but a living human was before her. Ridge, as if he could hear her confusion, politely explained.
“No, I’m not a vampire,” he pointed out, “...or a ghost or zombie. Quite human. The deceased is a technical term, courtesy of the government. I believe the story they told my uncle was ‘died in training’, which is military for ‘he was doing something we can’t tell you about’. I think they honestly do think I died with the rest of them in that pit. Fine by me.”
Buffybot was updating a cross-checking files hastily. So Kyle Ridge WAS a member of the Initiative, and he had escaped the attack by Adam and his demons that Willow described in her files. But what was he doing here, working WITH demons?
“Up on the stage,” Ridge continued, “...is the most beautiful woman any of you have ever seen, I’m sure.”
The snake woman hissed spectacularly, moving her hips in a slinky twist. Ridge flashed her a smile.
“She didn’t even have a name when I first met her,” he recalled, then adding, “...well, okay. ‘Hostile 23'. But you have to admit, that lacks a certain poetry.”
From the stage, the snake-woman mellowed her features, a piercing stare aimed right at Ridge. “I named her Eden,” he said proudly, “...she’s Eve, AND the snake, all in one.”
“Ah, true love,” Erik interrupted, “...makes me sick.” Up above, Eden hissed derisively at the vampire, who just laughed.
“Now that we’re all close friends, sit down and shut up or we’ll kill you all. And I mean that with all sincerity. Bob is itching to rip something apart tonight, lemme tell you.”
“Bob kill! Bob crush!!”
As for example, Erik motioned to say, and not a peep was heard from the captives. “Cooperation much appreciated. Now I think we’ve got a call to make...meatbag? Do the honours?”
Erik pulled a cellphone out of his jacket pocket and lobbed it at Ridge, who caught it with one hand. With his other, he aimed his own rifle at Buffybot and her table.
“Slayer, wolf...into the center.” He motioned towards the selected group of detainees arranged in plain view, and Buffybot noticed, in direct line of fire with the eyeball on the stairs.
As Buffybot and Oz, reluctantly, started edging towards the group, Ridge kept his gun trained on them. “Any of you makes a move, Igo cremates the lot of you. I’m sure you understand. You just keep on taking the night off from heroics, princess. Greeny,”
Shifting back to the table, Ridge aimed his weapon at a surprised Lorne. “Up on stage. Go.”
“Wha..? Hey, listen, I don’t sing well under pressure...can’t I have the night off too?”
“Mind readers give me the creeps,” Ridge noted calmly, “...you stay where I can watch you. Move.”
Grumbling, Lorne at length extricated himself form his booth and made his way towards the stage, several guns trained on him all the way. Casting a final, distrustful glance towards Buffybot, Ridge turned and followed, punching a number into his phone.
“Ransom call,” Oz whispered, and Buffybot’s processors concurred, “...I think we’re screwed here, Buff. Any ideas?”
Buffybot scanned the stage, where Ridge was making his call, allowing the distraught man on the other end of the line hear his terrified son plead for his life. Behind all of them was Lorne, on his knees, his hands having been bound tightly behind his back. Erik and Bob were circulating the club, keeping their weapons trained on their captives at all times. And Igo was there, waiting. Buffybot remained impassive.
“Something will come to me.”
*************************************************************************
“Man, Spike, you’re the man! You GOTTA come with us to the Bronze tomorrow night!”
Buffybot looked past the array of five vampires who were closing in on her position towards Spike, glowering in the back with his hand wrapped around a young girl’s neck.
“Spike? Are we going out tomorrow night? Because that sounds like fun!”
A few of the vampires laughed at that remark, and the girl in Spike’s clutches started crying. “She’s a little dotty that one, lads. But I think you’ll agree the packaging more than makes up for the poor conversation.”
“Who wants to talk to chicks anyhow?” One of them asked genuinely, “...chicks are only good for humping and eating.”
“Right on, man!” Another seconded, moving in on Buffybot, “...I want the legs. I’m a leg man.”
Bewildered, Buffybot gave the vampire a cockeyed stare. “You can’t have my legs. My legs are only for Spike. YOU I’m going to slay, so I can keep making sweet, sweet music with my man all night long. Isn’t that right Spike?”
Behind the encroaching vampires, Spike was slowly backing away, the girl still tightly in his clutches. “A little clingy, too, as you can tell,” he mentioned with a grin, “...but I’m sure you fine American boys can cure her of that. Show her who’s boss and all that.”
Leering, Lenny smiled a toothy smile. “Totally.”
Buffybot shook her head, hoping to somehow solve a few resource conflicts emerging in her programming. “But Spike...”
“Kowabunga!”
Lenny snarled, launching himself at Buffybot. He hit her with a high tackle, knocking her back down to the stone floor of the crypt. Immediately, Buffybot’s defensive programs kicked in and she rolled, using Lenny’s momentum to flip him off of her, then backflip to a stand again herself. She squared herself into an attack posture, and the four vampires in front of her looked entirely too unimpressed for her liking.
“Someone’s been taking self-defense classes,” one of them sneered derisively, “...man, I HATE chicks who take those classes. Bunch’a stuck-up bitches.”
“Just makes it more fun!” Another offered, stepping forward. Buffybot furrowed her brow, accessing her intimidation subroutine.
“I’ll be having the fun, you bloodsucking creeps. News flash? I’m the...”
A piercing scream rang out then, cutting Buffybot off. The scream was immediately run through her vocal recognition processors, and identified as the young girl the vampires had taken as hostage earlier. But she was safe with...
“Spike?”
A quick scan informed Buffybot that Spike was no longer in the crypt. The scream had come from without. One of the vampires turned and looked, annoyed, towards the open door.
“Aw, man! Spike’s getting his freak on with our morsel!”
“Forget her,” the leather vamp replied, “...I like THIS one better.”
A second later, and the four vamps were agreed, moving once again on Buffybot. Her scanners also informed her that Lenny was back on his feet and approaching from behind. Another scream rang out from somewhere outside...this one farther away than before. Buffybot’s intimidating frown fell away. She didn’t know what to do.
“...Spike?”
**************************************************************************
“I’ve been in worse situations,” Buffybot said, hopefully sounding quite confident. Oz seemed rather glum by her side.
“Maybe,” he replied with a frown, “...but if that vamp keeps massacring the Clash like that, I’m gonna seriously wolf out on his ass.”
Up on the stage, Erik was getting quite demonstrative with the microphone, belting out an impromptu version of London Calling over the hi-fi. Ridge and Eden were off to his side, still keeping a close hold on their hostage. Lorne still sat quietly in behind, on his knees.
“He IS doing it a disservice,” Buffybot agreed, keeping her eyes on Lorne. He had been making some odd head movements a second ago, and her tactical processors informed her that he may be trying to get her attention. She stared at him expectantly, and a second later she was rewarded. His mouth started moving, though no sound came out. Buffybot smiled. She KNEW something would come to her!
The first words he mouthed were ‘I hope you weren’t kidding when you said you could read lips, sister...’
Noticing her concentration, Oz edged up beside the robot. “Buff? What’s up?”
Reading intently, Buffybot kept her focus straight on Lorne. “Lorne can read people psychically when they sing,” she said quietly, “...and I can read lips. He’s trying to tell me what he’s reading off the vampire...it may help us.”
“Cool,” Oz said, perking up. “You can read lips?”
Nodding slightly, Buffybot ‘listened’ to Lorne’s discoveries. “The vampire singing wants to be famous,” she whispered, repeating Lorne’s readings for Oz’ sake, “...he’s the one who assembled the group. He resents the human for taking charge all the time. Bob, the other vampire, is loyal to Erik. But the snake-woman is with Ridge.”
“Power struggle...always a classic.”
“They were already a couple when Erik found them...Lorne thinks he may be a bit jealous of Ridge for that.”
Oz seemed intrigued. “What about the big slug on the stairs? Anything on him?”
Buffybot waited a moment as Erik kept on singing, then read Lorne’s response.
“He’s a giant eyeball with heat vision,” she reported plainly, “...that seems to be it.”
“Guess that’s enough.” Oz glanced quietly about. “We’ve got at least one advantage, Buffy. They don’t know I can change whenever I want. Maybe we can use what your friend learned to...”
“We have another advantage,” Botty interrupted, having come to a few important decisions in the last few seconds, “...and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier.”
“What? Is Angel coming or something? A little cavalry wouldn’t be unwelcome.”
“I’m not Buffy. I’m a highly advanced robot built to look like her. My name is Buffybot.”
Momentarily, Oz returned to his more familiar silent bearing, and just stared bewildered at Buffybot. She rather expected something along those lines.
“Is this an existential crisis sort of thing? Buffy, you’re not a robot.”
Buffybot remained silent herself now, just giving Oz an apologetic smile. He stared hard, giving the air around her a few long, deep sniffs. After a moment’s rumination, a look of intense disquiet came over him.
“Okay...there is kind of a weird plastic whiff off you, actually. I figured it was your jacket earlier. Maybe you ARE a robot.”
“I really am,” Buffybot added, “...but I’m a good robot, I promise. And I’m alive too, in what everyone tells me is a weird way.”
Oz remained confused. “Did Willow build you? ‘Cause she used to mention having pieces of a robot called Ted in her drawer, and I always thought she was just being a bit flaky, but..”
“She didn’t build me,” Buffybot corrected, “...although she did perform repairs and upgrades on me quite frequently. We’ve parted company just now, and I promise I’ll explain everything once we’ve saved the day, but first we have to save the day.”
“Fair enough,” Oz decided, rolling with the weirdness. “You have a plan?”
“I do...but I need you to tell me everything that Igo has been saying with his smells. You’ve been able to understand him, haven’t you?”
He nodded. “Lycanthropic nostrils come in handy more often than you’d imagine.”
“My own sense of smell isn’t as advanced as yours,” Buffybot admitted with a hint of jealousy, “...but with your help I’ll be able to build a linguistic database for Igo’s olfactory communication system. It might come in handy.”
“You are definitely not Buffy. Okay...where do we start?”
“...I lived by the RIII-VERRRR!! YEAH!!”
Ridge remained mute as he watched Erik show off for the frightened crowd. There were times, more and more these days, that he wasn’t sure about his vampiric co-conspirators. At least they were good in a fight, even if he had grave doubts about Erik’s claims to being three hundred years old. All they had to do was wait for confirmation that old man Gregson had come through with the payment to their accounts, and everything would be set. He had a source all lined up to pick up more Initiative tech from, upgrades to their current equipment...which was mostly whatever he and Eden could grab when they’d beat a path out of the team’s bunker when Walsh’s Frankenstein monster started unholy hell down there. Ridge figured he was the only one who had successfully figured out what Adam’s plans had been, and used it to get himself and his girl out of there, with a convenient lack of witnesses once the slaughter began.
He paused, recalling how the Slayer and her glee club friends had bust in moments earlier...guess SHE figured it out too.
Ridge looked out towards where he had left the Slayer and her werewolf buddy, with the other hostages. They were muttering something among themselves. Possibly plotting some ridiculous escape plan.
He hoped so. Bob was getting bored, and bored Bob tended to get sloppy. A little action would do the big lug good.
“Kyle? Something wrong?”
Snapping out of his tactical reverie, Ridge turned to Eden, who had noticed his deep thoughts. He flashed her a smile, stepping over towards her over the now tightly bound Jeremy Gregson.
“Just staying focussed, hon. And trying to keep my mind off of Erik’s singing.”
Ridge and Eden kissed, and Erik flashed a few fangs in their direction.
“You got no class, meatbag.”
Ignoring Erik, Ridge and Eden kissed for three seconds more, breaking off with satisfied smiles. Ridge then stared back out at the crowd, and the Slayer in particular. He started again wondering whether he should let Bob have a crack at her, or just have Igo vaporize her. She definitely couldn’t be allowed to live...and killing a Slayer would guarantee plenty of that press that Erik craved so much.
Such a dopey little blonde thing, he thought, eyeing Buffybot closely. No style at all.
What the heck did Finn ever SEE in her..?
Down in the crowd, Oz and Buffybot shared information as quietly as possible, keeping a wary eye on both the stage and Igo as best they could.
“That’s all I got, Buff...can I call you that?”
“Oh sure,” Buffybot replied, smiling brightly, “...or Joan. I got a fake ID today in that name, actually.”
“That brings back memories. So...will that help?
“Absolutely! You gave me more than enough information to start proper translations, I’m almost certain. We shouldn’t have any problems.”
“You’ve got an optimistic appraisal of our situation, Buff. I’m not so sure about all this.”
“What do you mean? Buffybot looked perplexed. “I thought you were excited.”
“Excited, yeah...but remember what I told you about how I’m supposed to be able to control the wolf? Well, that’s all kinda theoretical. I haven’t actually changed since Sunnydale.”
“Oh.” Buffybot ran that new information through her tactical processors, smiling widely again. “Well, I’m sure you’ll do just super! Willow writes very highly of you, Oz.”
“Let’s not mention Will, ok? But thanks.”
Buffybot nodded smartly. “What about your friend, Axel? Does he have any magical abilities that could help us?”
“Who, Ax?” Oz glanced over to the main crowd, where Axel was still segregated with the bulk of the attendees. “He’s more of a behind-the-scenes magician. He can enchant a guitar pretty well, and he’s a wiz with a dowsing rod. Besides that, you’re looking at Tarot readings and yoga. Handy if you want to cleanse your aura, but not much good in a Die Hard scenario.”
“That’s all right. He’s already helped. Now it’s my turn.”
“Buffybot, wait.”
Oz took hold of Buffybot’s arm. “This is major league suicide you’re talking about here. That thing with the fire eye up there...”
Buffybot took another look at Igo, staring silently straight back at her. “I’ve done some calculations, based on my scans from his previous attack,” Buffybot relayed, “...and I’m almost certain my Byzantium-6 superstructure could survive a full-on, concentrated hit from his directed energy abilities. My clothes and exodermal coating would be history, but...”
“Sorry,” Oz interrupted, “...Byzanty-what?”
“Byzantium-6,” Buffybot repeated, “...it’s the custom plasteel polymer alloy my creator forged my second shell out of. It’s very sturdy. But don’t worry, I’m sure you won’t be seeing it tonight. I’m going to take Igo out. That’s when you join in.”
“Confidence isn’t really a problem for you, is it?”
That took Buffybot by surprise. She’d never really thought of herself as ‘confident’, especially since coming to LA. She hadn’t realized how...nice, it felt, being in a situation where she could just sit back, relax, and take out some super-villains. Not to mention try out several new systems she hadn’t had the chance to play with yet. She smiled.
“Not tonight. Try not to worry when they take me prisoner and threaten to kill me. It’s just their way.”
Oz smiled back. “No problem. Try not to let me eat anyone.”
“Deal.” Buffybot gave Oz’ hand a shake, and decided that she agreed with Willow...he was indeed a very nice young man.
Content with those last thoughts, Buffybot rose to a stand and waved gaily towards the villains on the stage. They stared back in surprise.
“Hi there! Could I have a word, please?”
Ridge, Eden and Erik only stared blankly for a moment, each wondering in turn if this was some sort of attack. The microphone stand fell to the stage as Erik let it slip from his grip, but the Slayer just stared back, smiling like an idiot. She made no move. Erik grinned.
“Come on up, honey. Slowly.”
Erik pulled his shock rifle back around, aiming it at Buffybot as she took a few steps towards the stage. She noticed Ridge giving Erik an annoyed look, then motioning for Bob to come closer and keep a watch on the remaining hostages. Eden was eyeing her with predatorial glee. Buffybot thought it was going quite well so far.
“What’s on your mind, Slay-girl?”
Standing now at the base of the stage, Buffybot smiled politely up into the barrel of Erik’s rifle, before turning smartly away from him towards Ridge. Erik seemed hurt.
“I’d like to convince you to release some of your hostages,” she stated plainly, “...you don’t need all these people for this. Keep me and the boy.”
Overcoming his initial shock, Ridge let himself smile drily. “60 hostages to two in one swoop? You’ve got a thing or two to learn about the finer points of negotiation, Ms.Summers.”
Fuming, Erik stepped a foot closer to the edge of the stage. “Yeah! Rule number one? Talk to the guy in charge, not the hired help. And there aren’t gonna be any ‘negotiations’ anyway!”
“Oh.” Buffybot looked slowly back at Erik, seeming dismayed. “I’m sorry, I thought HE was the leader. He was always giving orders, so...”
“Oh, is that a fact?” Erik growled briefly in Ridge’s direction, and the soldier rolled his eyes. “Well, I’M the boss here! I’m Erik the Red, got that? Leader of The Five! THAT sack of bones over there is a human, for The Master’s sake! They age and die, you don’t put them in CHARGE!”
Buffybot nodded politely. “Uh huh.” She flashed Erik a quick smile before promptly turning back towards Ridge. “Maybe just let a few of the humans go, at least..?”
“HEY!”
Botty turned right back to Erik. “What?”
From the stage, Ridge took a step towards Erik, fingering his sidearm. “Erik, she’s trying to play Divide and Conquer. It’s the oldest trick in the book.”
With a glare, Erik showed Ridge that his attempt to defuse the situation wouldn’t work so easily. “You think I don’t know that? I was born and sired a hundred years before your Daddy got your Ma drunk for the first time. And now I’m supposed to be stupid, that it?”
Between the two men, Eden cracked a sideways glare towards Erik. “Not just NOW, no.”
Vamping out, Erik growled deeply at Ridge and Eden both, and Buffybot started to wonder if she would even NEED to go to phase two.
But overconfidence is nobody’s friend, she reminded herself. A second later, Ridge confirmed that notion.
“This is ridiculous,” he wore, pulling his pistol out of it’s holster, and swiftly bringing it’s barrel to rest at Lorne’s temple. “Slayer, shut your mouth NOW, or your demon friend gets the cheapest lobotomy in history. I’m through playing.”
Immobile, Lorne swallowed nervously. “Oh Mamma...I’m cancelling my subscription to that paper when I get home, that’s all there is to it.”
Time for phase two, Botty decided, activating her improved pheremonic generators to maximum capacity. This was a little more than they were designed for, but she was hopeful they would do the trick.
Now all her foes had to was fall for it, like good villains.
Oz sniffed at the changes in the air deeply, noticing the change. He was impressed. She might be a little heavy on the sulphur, but...she got it.
Turning, he strained his head over the crowd and managed to catch Axel’s eye. His manager looked back with deep curiousity, motioning towards the events on stage. Oz simply mouthed two words in reply, though he had to do it two times before they got through.
Get Ready.
Erik and Ridge both stood taught, staring one another down. Eden hissed and writhed, and Buffybot could notice small changes occurring in her skeletal structure from one moment to the next. It should only be a moment before the smell hit them...
A visible change came over all three of her opponents when it finally happened. They froze, then turned in unison towards the stairs. Buffybot’s virtual calculations had been correct...they could barely see Igo from their raised perch, and nothing behind him on the stairs out. That would help.
“Igo’s in trouble!” Ridge shouted, pulling his pistol away from Lorne, who breathed a quiet sigh of relief. “Erik, Bob, go!”
Erik swivelled back towards Ridge. “Don’t order me around, you...”
“It’s the PLAN, Erik! You and Bob are crowd control. We trained for this! We’ll deal with that other crap when we’re all millionaires, all right? Now GO!”
“Oh, you bet we’ll deal with it,” Erik grunted, leaping from the stage. He paused to point an angry finger at Buffybot.
“I’ll be back for you, bitch.”
Buffybot watched as Erik ran towards the stairs, wondering why so many people were unnecessarily rude like that.
She shrugged, guessing that was just what separated the good guys from the bad.
Before pursuing that thought further, Buffybot registered new activity on the stage. A second later Eden’s arms shot forward, splitting and morphing as they did into numerous serpentine appendages. They stretched down and wrapped around Buffybot, immediately constricting into a tight bond. Individual snake-heads hissed and bared their fangs at her, threatening to bite at virtually every inch of her that remained exposed. Buffybot was actually a little impressed as she was lifted into the air.
“I don’t know what you’re planning, twiggy,” Eden taunted, raising Buffybot several feet above her own eye level, “...but you’re going to lose. It’ll take more than some bimbo human with a prophecy to stop US.”
Ridge just watched in admiration as Eden reared up, her torso adopting a cobra-like hunch, as she ordered her arms to start tightening their grip. Buffybot started registering phenomenal pressure being exerted on her superstructure. Once again, she had to admit, she was kind of impressed.
Oz turned back towards the stage after watching Erik collect the massive Bob and race for the main door. That was when he saw Buffybot being hoisted into the air by the snake-woman. He felt his blood starting to boil, but managed to remember some of his breathing and focus techniques in time and halt the change.
Don’t worry, he reminded himself, breathing deeply and slowly. This is just their way.
Eden laughed as her arms continued to squeeze Buffybot’s chassis. Buffybot herself was starting to experience a little unease, as the pressure being exerted was much greater than what she would have predicted. She honestly wasn’t sure if she could extricate herself if her new system didn’t perform as well as she was hoping. She’d never actually tested it on anyone, especially not a demon snake.
Accessing her optimism file, Buffybot managed a smile. No time like the present!
“Whattaya mean you didn’t call us? I KNOW what you smell like, eyeball.”
Erik stared into Igo’s massive retina, annoyed, even as Bob confirmed that there was nothing out of the ordinary. The lock they’d placed on the door was still in place, undisturbed. A flurry of scents were pouring out of Igo’s body.
“Excuse me?” Erik glared indignantly. “Now YOU’RE calling me stupid? You’re the one who called us...”
Erik stopped, slowly turning back towards the stage. He could just make out Eden hoisting the Slayer into the air. Everything SEEMED to be under control...
Stepping down a few stairs, Erik could now see the Slayer, helpless in Eden’s grip. He hadn’t given her permission to kill the Slayer!
A frown grew across Erik’s face, and he motioned Bob to his side. Bob loomed over him, anxious.
“Bob kill now? Bob kill?”
Erik sneered. “Soon, brother, soon. Igo,”
Glaring at the Slayer, and occasionally at Ridge and Eden also, Erik the Red puffed himself up. HE would be calling the shots from here on.
“...if the Slayer moves...torch her.”
“Do you know what it feels like to be constricted, Slayer?” Eden roared at Buffybot, half of her body now transformed into a massive serpentine figure swarming across the stage. Her flailings knocked Lorne onto his back.
“Do you? Have you ever felt the air being squeezed from your lungs, your bones and organs being crushed inside you, and there’s not a damned thing you can do about it? Do you want to know what that feels like?”
Squirming her arms just enough, Buffybot laid her bare fingertips onto Eden’s limbs, and shunted all available power to defensive systems. Time for phase three.
“No,” she answered calmly, “...do you know what a taser is?”
Eden paused for the briefest of moments in confusion, before Buffybot activated her Surface Electrical Array and pumped about a thousand volts of converted energy into Eden’s body. It would leave her dangerously low on power for the next little while, but she had to be sure she took Eden out with this single attack. The effect certainly seemed to be taking, she noticed, as Eden screamed in pain under the assault. Botty could already feel the pressure being halved on her frame, a fact for which she was most thankful.
“Eden?”
Kyle Ridge stepped forward immediately as Eden howled and thrashed under Buffybot’s attack. He could smell smoke coming from somewhere on her arms. How the Hell had the Slayer concealed a weapon like that on her? Why?
He levelled his weapon at the Slayer, but Eden was too unstable, and he couldn’t get a lock. He would have to wait until Eden dropped her.
Then...then she was dead. Nobody messed with his girl.
Buffybot felt herself starting to fall as Eden’s arms involuntarily began retracting. That wouldn’t do, she realized, and as soon as her arms were free she reached out and grabbed Eden’s snaky limbs in her hands, even as she plummetted downwards. She switched of her Electrical Array and started making the virtual calculations for her attack trajectory once she landed. She would only get one chance to do it right, Botty realized, as even now she began registering a noticeable increase in her surface temperature.
The eye was upon her.
“SonofaBITCH! Fry her Igo, do it! Bobby, let’s go!”
Erik leapt to the bottom of the stairs, coat sailing behind him. A second later he heard a massive thud as Bob followed along. Eden still had the Slayer wrapped in her arms, but he didn’t particularly care at this point. Burn them all, he figured. Damn human and his pet snake were more trouble than they were worth. Besides, once word got out that he’d killed the Slayer, Erik didn’t figure he’d have any problems recruiting.
And next time...vampires only.
************************************************************************
The vampires swarmed into her from the front, just as Lenny lunged and nabbed her in a headlock from the back. Buffybot’s tactical processors were working furiously to calculate an escape scenario, but they were getting a lot of interference from her Spike-central programming. It didn’t make any sense to her...where had he gone?
“Keep her alive man, don’t kill her! I wanna have some fun!”
“Wait your turn, dude!” The vamp in leather rocked Buffybot with a shot to the jaw, rattling her heads-up display but causing no real damage. She noticed him wincing slightly after the blow.
“Man, you’re a wuss,” Another chided, noticing the vampire’s discomfort, “...Lemme show ya how to treat a lady.”
Chuckling, the boastful attacker drove a fist into Buffybot’s midsection, which she didn’t consider appropriate treatment towards a lady at all, despite his claims. Two other vampires were now holding her arms tightly.
“Let me go, you creeps! I have to find Spike!”
Lenny laughed into Buffybot’s ear. “Aw baby, we’ll make you forget all about him. Piece by piece, you know what I’m saying?”
Running that through her conversational analyzers, Buffybot shook her head. “No, I don’t. Now please let me go! I have to slay you all!”
The vampires laughed again, and the one in leather moved in, grabbing Buffybot by the throat. He bared his fangs close to her, and she struggled in vain to free herself. She needed Spike. Where was he?
“No way out, girly. You belong to us, now.”
Before she could explain that she actually belonged to Spike and Spike alone, another blow crashed into the side of Buffybot’s head, rattling her visual processors. The vampires only laughed harder.
**********************************************************************
Buffybot hit the ground with both feet, barely managing to keep a hold of Eden’s still-protracted serpentine arms, even as she began registering growing panic in the room. Her adventures on the stage were causing unease, and now that she was back on the ground she was right in Igo’s line of fire. Her jacket was starting to smoke, she noted with some concern. And the drain on her power reserves had been greater than she’d hoped for, and Eden was still clinging to consciousness. She was awfully resilient. Buffybot wondered if she would survive what was coming next.
“Let her go, NOW!”
Buffybot spared a moment to see Kyle Ridge standing beside Eden’s limping form as she staggered nearer towards Buffybot, her serpentine arms returning to their more humanoid shape automatically as they unintentionally dragged her forward. His gun was trained straight at her head.
“Sure thing!” Buffybot flashed him a peppy smile before she pulled Eden off the stage with a huge tug, scant seconds before her hair was about to burst into flame from the increasing heat of Igo’s gaze. She figured she’d gotten lucky, and her proximity to his teammate was keeping the creature from letting loose with his heat right away. He wouldn’t get another shot.
Spinning, Botty whirled Eden around in the air a time or two before her attack analyzers told her she had sufficient momentum built up, and she let her go, sending Eden flying across the club. She sailed over the heads of Oz and the other prisoners, tumbling in the air as she covered the length of the club.
Ridge watched with growing horror as he realized just where she was heading.
“Oh no...”
If possible, Igo’s massive eye seemed to open just a little bit wider, just before Eden crashed straight into it. An involuntary burst of heat spewed out upon impact, setting Eden’s clothes instantly ablaze. She shrieked loudly as she bounced off of Igo and down the remaining stairs. A horrible stench started filling the room as Igo let out his own howls of pain, and his great eye closed in agony. Buffybot gave an approving smile.
“Two down...three to go.”
************************************************************************
Lenny kicked Buffybot’s legs out from under her, pushing her hard down onto the stone floor. The impact threw fuzz onto her visual array, and before she could start struggling anew for freedom, two vamps descended upon her, pinning her arms and legs. They giggled savagely.
“Gonna do you good, girly,” One of them muttered from behind bared fangs, “...every which way, yeah!”
“I want a leg. I like legs.”
“There’ll be plenty for everybody,” the leather clad vamp boasted, standing over Buffybot with another vamp. We’ve got all night long.”
The two vampires smiled down at Buffybot, and she was close to genuine mechanical distress when her now-corrected optic spotted something that gave a fresh jolt to her optimism circuits. A second later, that something thrust a pair of stakes into both vampires from behind.
“Sorry, lads,” Spike offered, yanking his stakes out of his victims before heir bodies evaporated into clouds of dust, “...but the nighttime is MY time. You understand.”
“Spike!” Despite the three vampires holding her down, nothing could hold back Buffybot’s smile. “You came back!”
Spike just grinned, flashing Buffybot a quick wink. “Two down, love...three to go.”
******************************************************************************
“You BITCH!”
Ridge’s anger flared, and he took instant aim again at Buffybot, letting loose with a hail of gunfire from his sidearm. Botty did the best she could to manage the ricochets, keeping them away from any civilians. The bullets were high-impact, but still just bullets, and not particularly high-tech. Aside from a few tears in her artificial skin (including a nasty graze across her cheek) and some damage to what she considered an awfully cute outfit, Buffybot emerged safely from the attack.
Which seemed to seriously surprise the man with the gun.
“What the Hell..?”
Returning Ridge’s shock with a cocky grin, Buffybot lowered into a crouch, plotting a leap onto the stage. “Any more macho toys you want to try?”
Ridge couldn’t hold back a mildly impressed chuckle, before reaching behind his back and pulling a small metallic sphere off of his belt. He held it up briefly, depressing a button that lit up a series of small red and green lights. They immediately began beeping, and Buffybot’s scanners quickly told her that the timer was counting downwards. She knew what it was.
“One or two,” Ridge sneered, letting the grenade drop out of his hands. It rolled noisily towards Lorne and the Gregson boy, still tightly bound and helpless. Lorne let out a nervous shriek.
Buffybot quickly shifted her angle and leapt upwards, even as Ridge jumped down, hitting the ground running. A check of her virtual systems told Botty that she would have to get backstage with the grenade and fast, if she wanted to avoid any casualties from it’s detonation. She scooped the tiny weapon up without a word, fast as a blur, and hurled herself up and over Lorne towards the back, tucking the grenade tightly into her tummy and curling up as she went. She chastised herself for overconfidence, and also lamented what would surely be the demise of a pretty, pretty top, when the timer hit zero.
“Axel! AX! Get over here!”
Oz waved wildly amidst a sudden crushing throng of panicky nightclubbers, being bounced around as his manager shoved his way towards him. He felt safe in assuming that the time for waiting was well and truly over.
“Here’s an idea,” Axel shouted, reaching Oz after nearly being trampled by two girls and a Brakken Demon, “...let’s get our butts out of this place. Sound reasonable?”
Oz pointed towards the stage. “Try and get everyone heading that way...get them out the service entrance.”
Axel frowned. “You’re not coming?”
A feral grin sprang up. “Hey, you know I’ve been dying to take the new model out for a test drive. Get going.”
After a few seconds thought, Axel slapped a hand down on Oz’ shoulder. “Stay cool, chum. I’ll be back soon as I can.”
“I’d take your time if I were you. Could get hinky.”
“What can I say, I’m a full-service manager.” Axel smiled, then backed up and clapped his hands loudly over his head.
“All right everybody, follow the leader! Exit, stage left! Let’s go!”
A few people started following Axel, and he continued waving and shouting as he led them along. Oz started slipping away in the opposite direction, silently worrying himself mad about what he was considering doing. It had been over a year, after all, and his last transformation went about as opposite of ‘smoothly’ as you can get without leaving the dictionary altogether. What if all this magic and training and whatever he’d been doing didn’t work? Rising aggression aside, he didn’t want to hurt anybody.
Not to mention, since when was there a robot of Buffy? There was weird, after all, and then there was ridiculous.
A sideways glance distracted Oz, when he saw the soldier from the stage racing along the bartop, heading for the front. Oz paused, wondering if this ‘Buffybot’ had managed to win the whole thing already. The way Ridge was booking it...
A loud explosion echoed powerfully from the stage area, dimming the lights and rattling glasses off their shelves throughout the bar. A whole chorus of panicky shouts followed suit, and Oz strained to get a look at what had happened. He saw some smoke billowing out over the heads of the crowd (which Axel was rapidly losing control of after the detonation), but could see no sign of the robot-girl. He was starting to get a bad feeling.
This was quite justified, as a moment later something grabbed Oz from behind, spinning him about. Massive hands clamped onto Oz’ arms and lifted him straight up like a rag doll. Hanging helplessly, he stared into the glowering, angry face before him.
“Kill now...KILL!”
Oz breathed deeply. “You must be Bob.”
Ridge leapt off of the bar, drawing his pistol to ward off any nearby civilians as he tried to make his way towards Eden. Out of one eye, he spotted Erik, starting to scramble forwards.
“ERIK!”
The vampire stopped, glaring at Ridge. “What the Hell are you DOING up there? Did you just blow up our meal-ticket, you air-breathing headcase?”
“He’s fine,” Ridge countered, running closer. “Collect him and move. We’re getting out of here.”
Erik shook his head smugly. “Nuh-uh. Not before I kill the Slayer. I already sent Bob to collect her pal...”
“That’s NOT the Slayer! I don’t know what she is!”
“She’s DEAD, is what she is. I’m not missing this chance!”
Before Ridge could argue further, Erik bolted, pulling his rifle into attack position and shoving his way through the crowd. Ridge cursed him quietly, before turning and making the final dash towards Eden. She was still breathing, he could see to his relief. But she was badly burned. He had to get her out of here.
He knelt by her side, patting out the few flames still licking at her clothes, and cradled her gently as she moaned. Rocking her softly, Ridge whispered in her ear.
“Don’t worry, Eden...you’ll be okay. You’ll be okay. Then we’ll get her.”
Glaring up at the stage, even as a familiar smell hit his nostrils telling him that Igo, too, was starting to come round, Ridge narrowed his eyes in fury.
“WHATEVER she is. We’ll get her.”
Bob held Oz up high, shaking him with abandon. Oz thought briefly that he reminded him of a lot of the jocks back at Sunnydale High...all rolled into one.
“HUMAN!” The massive vampire spat the word up at Oz, staring with mindless eyes. “Bob kill humans!”
Oz felt a cold lump in his throat, as a long-suppressed tremor welled up way deep down in his stomach. He felt momentarily ill, and his head swam with metamorphosis. Willing himself to let his restraint slip away, Oz felt a spasm of electricity course through him. He had forgotten the RUSH of it all...
Oz shut his eyes tightly, only to open them a second later. Their colour had changed. He looked down at Bob, smiling a suddenly very toothy smile.
“You kill humans, huh?”
Bob stared dumbly back, his dim brain starting to register the sudden changes occurring in his intended target.
“Well,” Oz continued, struggling now to speak, “...you’ve got about five more seconds, big fella. After that...human won’t be...exactly...aaahhhhh...”
Throwing his head back, Oz let a guttural howl fly towards the ceiling as his genetic structure took a 180 at high speed. Bob found his grip being challenged as Oz’ bones and musculature started expanding and changing shape. Huge tufts of hair started breaking forth from the rapidly-shredding Modest Mouse t-shirt on Oz’ chest, razor claws shredded through shoes and socks. A terrible thrashing and snarling suddenly began, as the human Bob had been holding ceased to exist in any meaningful sense, and what was left did NOT want to be held just now.
Losing his grip, Bob let Oz fall to the ground, staring dumbly forward. Oz snarled back.
“...NOT human..?”
Axel did his best to calm the crowd down, but wasn’t having much luck. Their avenue of escape had just, by all appearances, blown up, and they were none too happy about it. He was feeling pretty near to soiling himself as well.
“Aw, come one, people! I don’t wanna be here any more than you do, okay?? Everything’ll be just swell, I promise!”
“I’d take that with a grain of salt if I were you.”
Axel and the crowd turned. Erik had taken to the stage, facing them down with a fully charged shock rifle aimed straight into their number. Behind him, Lorne and Gregson coughed amidst a billowing wall of smoke rolling out from backstage.
“Looks like the Slayer took one for the team,” Erik declared, silently quite pissed that he hadn’t done her in himself. There’d be recriminations for that. “That leaves me feeling a little...unsatisfied. So whattaya say?”
Pressing a button on his weapon, Erik’s rifle started to hum with increased power, and Axel started sweating along with the crowd. He was strictly a mentor, he swore under his breath. Where were the friggin’ superheroes?
Erik flashed his fangs, thrusting his rifle forward. “...who’s up for a barbecue?”
“Sounds fun!”
Erik quickly looked behind, towards the source of the spritely voice that had just piped up behind him. Buffybot stared back at him, grinning widely.
“I brought the punch!”
A lightning uppercut hammered Erik, blowing him off the stage and towards a painful impact with the main floor. Buffybot watched him go, then tore off the flaming remnants of her jacket and shirt. She was left in just a bra and what was left of her jeans now, a look she was sure was rather naughty. But duty called, proper dress or no. She was more concerned with her power levels (she had channelled far more energy into her taser attack than the system had been designed to sustain), and several system glitches were being reported from the grenade’s impact.
Lorne, however, was a vision of pure relief. “Oh, Mama...you are officially my favourite action figure.”
Botty smiled quickly, then shouted down towards Axel and the others. “The way out is clear! There’s smoke, and some minor structural damage, but you’ll be okay if you hurry. GO!”
Nodding, Axel started hustling the frightened patrons up the side of the stage and out the back way, and Buffybot returned her attention to Erik, who was slowly getting back to his feet. He massaged his jaw, staring up at the figure he still thought was the Slayer.
“Wow...you are HOT.”
Buffybot looked unimpressed at the compliment, and started shifting power to her legs motors for an attack leap. Erik aimed his still-charged rifle at her.
“...but you could be hotter.”
Buffybot jumped, and Erik pulled the trigger, sending a torrent of boiling electric plasma directly at her. Lorne turned away, muttering a silent prayer.
Carefully sidestepping the slowly awakening Igo, Ridge carried Eden up the stairs and towards the front door, where the locking device he’d had Erik set up was still in place. A furious howl caught his ear, however, and he knelt down, peering back. His eyes went wide in surprise when he saw the massive creature slashing at Bob.
“Werewolf?”
Cursing himself for not reading the reports on Oz’ detention at the Initiative, Ridge started searching his pockets and pouches, getting frustrated as he went. Eden rolled towards him.
“What...what’s going on..?”
Still weak, she tried to open her eyes but failed. Ridge glanced at her as he continued searching. “Honey, did you pack my silver bullets?”
Eden slowly nodded. “They’re...in the...glove compartment...”
Passing out again, Eden didn’t notice the look of deep annoyance on Ridge’s face as he looked back at the chaos in the club. He was too high up to see the stage now, but he could hear Erik shooting at something. Presumably that bulletproof Slayer.
At least he wouldn’t have to bother dealing with Erik himself, he thought with some comfort. Gathering himself up, he ran up to the door and started deactivating the lock.
“Rahh! AAHHRRRRHH!!”
“GGRAAAAAAHH! WRAAGGGH!!”
Bob and Oz swatted viciously at one another, clawing and biting and smashing, and generally doing away with the witty banter occasionally witnessed in similar heroic conflicts. Driving his huge fist into the Werewolf’s gut, Oz howled angrily and clamped his slavering jaws down, biting deeply into Bob’s shoulder. Bob shook with rage.
“AAAHHHHH!! BOB KILL!! KIILLLLLLL!!"
“RROOOAAAAAAHHH!! GRAHH! GGAHHH!!”
...and so forth.
Buffybot took a few fractions of a second to take in the physical sensation provided by the full blast of Erik’s shock rifle, transmitted to her sensor array by her plasmonic nanoshell. It was quite spectacular, she thought, and she would have quite enjoyed experiencing it, or something slightly lower voltage, under less dire circumstances. As it was, she was being fried from the outside in, her exodermal layer taking an awful beating. If she didn’t take the weapon out of play soon, it would start melting right off. And it was beginning to wreak havoc with some of her scanners and programs to boot.
All this thought took place in mid-leap, as Erik blasted her along the arc of her jump. She tried to angle herself in mid-air, compensating her trajectory to take the counterforce of Erik’s plasma burst into account. Her tactical processors were glitching, so she had to wing it all by her lonesome. As a result, she fell a foot or two short. Erik found that highly amusing until two things happened. First, his rifle jammed, prompting a loud curse. And before he could get it going again, Buffybot, who had rolled with her landing, sprang to her feet and used her momentum to fire herself at Erik, tackling him hard to the ground.
Using the momentary advantage, Buffybot reared a fist back, aiming carefully. Her appropriate scanner was offline, so she was unable to tell exactly where the best spot to disable Erik’s rifle would be. She opted for taking out the trigger, driving her fist down hard and shattering the mechanism out of existence. Erik looked nervous for a moment.
“Guns are bad,” Buffybot told him scoldingly, “...you shouldn’t use them.”
Grinning, Erik pulled his hands in and shoved Buffybot hard, knocking her off him. He raced to a stand.
“Sometimes old school IS best.” Erik shook his head as Buffybot rose to face him, defiant. “Let’s see what you got, Slayer. Come ON!”
Taking a momentary look over Erik’s shoulder, Buffybot noted that Oz had made his move. He and Bob seemed to be having a fairly well-matched battle. She wouldn’t let him lose.
“I’ve got more than enough for you, creep.” Botty lunged, taking a powerful swing at Erik...which, due to a random glitch in her targeting array, missed quite noticeably. Erik laughed, swinging about and snagging Buffybot in a strong headlock. A system alert was flashing in her heads-up, informing her that due to damage sustained by both the grenade and Erik’s rifle, it might be wise if the took herself offline for a few hours of automated repair and powerup. Struggling against Erik’s grip, Buffybot frowned.
“This isn’t really the TIME...”
************************************************************************
The two vampires holding Buffybot’s arms jumped to their feet, and Spike immediately tackled the one nearest him, dropping one of his stakes.. The other vamp started following Spike, and Buffybot grabbed the stake up. Lenny scowled.
“Hey, don’t go getting any funny ideas, you...”
Swinging her legs up and around, Buffybot gave Lenny a powerful boot to the head, sending him reeling backwards. She hopped to her feet, all systems informing her that she must go to help Spike at once. The second vampire was holding him from behind, even while Spike was trying to stake the first.
“I don’t BELIEVE this!” The first vamp cried, hitting Spike hard across the jaw, “...you wasted Albert and Joey! Just like that!”
Spike spat out a laugh. “Oh, is that who they were? Good to have a name to go with the cloud of dust. Makes you feel all close-like.”
“Shut your mouth!” The second vamp tightened his grip, baring fangs. “Dust this traitor, Abe, do it!”
Spike struggled, until the grip suddenly vanished in a scream and a swirl of ash that used to be a vampire. Buffybot pulled the stake out, smiling proudly. “Nobody tells my Spike to shut his mouth! Especially not some...poser!”
Spike sneered wryly. “That’s my girl.”
Abe suddenly felt awfully outnumbered, backing up as Buffybot sped past Spike, driving a fist into her opponent’s face. He staggered for a moment before she drove the wooden stake into his heart, and Abe vanished into the dust of the crypt.
Buffybot turned gaily, awaiting praise from Spike. He smiled back fondly at her, and all the doubts she had experienced vanished in a moment. What a great plan! Spike was so smart, and brave. No wonder she loved him so...
“You JERK!”
Spike turned, and saw Lenny staring in disbelief. Buffybot stepped up beside Spike, and they both watched their lone remaining foe with bemusement.
“How...how could you DO that? I mean...”
“It’s fun to try new things,” Spike interrupted, sliding an arm around Buffybot. “Besides...the little lady does love a spot of excitement.”
Buffybot smiled adoringly, giving Spike a hug. Lenny stared on.
“But...but you’re a vampire! Like us! You’re not supposed to kill other vampires! It’s....it’s the RULES!”
Checking her files, Buffybot looked curious when she could come up with no such rule regarding vampiric behaviour. Spike removed his arm from Buffybot’s shoulder (prompting a small frown from the machine) and stepped forward. He grabbed Lenny by the lapels and pulled him in tight.
“News flash, chum...”
A nasty headbutt drove into Lenny’s forehead, before Spike swung him around and pushed him towards Buffybot, who flashed her stake out. Lenny drove into it with a scream. Spike pulled out a cigarette and raised it to his lips.
“...tonight we’re playing by punk rules. And anything goes.”
*************************************************************************
Buffybot drove an elbow into Erik’s midsection, trying to free herself with little success. He was turning out to be an awfully strong vampire, and determined. If she’d been a human, she certainly would have been killed by now. If only she could get her tactical systems functioning properly...
“Just die, sweetheart...I promise, it’s for a good cause. Mine.”
A thought occurred to Buffybot then, as she registered Erik’s taunt. He still thought she was human! She started sending new orders to her battle computers, ordering them to slow down her struggling. If he wanted to kill the Slayer, she’d just go ahead and let him. That would be the polite thing to do, after all.
Slowly, Buffybot’s arms started to cease pulling at Erik’s grip on her throat, and her eyes flickered and closed. One by one, Buffybot put all her motor systems on standby, and she fell limp like a doll with severed strings. Erik grinned savagely, throttling Buffybot a few moments longer for good measure before howling at the roof and tossing his enemy to the ground in a heap. She landed loudly overtop the microphone stand that had tumbled off the stage earlier.
“YEAH!!” Pumping the air with his fists, Erik shouted with triumphant joy. “YEAH! I DID it! ME! Erik the Red!”
Turning away, Erik started shouting to the front of the club, ignoring the fact that Ridge was leaving, and Bob was in a fight for his life with a werewolf. “You hear me? I killed the Slayer! One on one! I’m a goddamn LEGEND, you got that? I’m a...”
The metal spear burst out of Erik’s chest from behind, taking the wind out of his boasts. He coughed in pained surprise, sparing a second to wonder how the mike stand had come to be sticking through him. With awkward steps, he turned to find out.
“You’re a poser, is what you are,” Buffybot mocked, smiling. Erik coughed a few droplets of blood, shaking the pain out of his head.
“You...how are you..?”
Ignoring the confusion, Erik started clawing at the mike stand, a bloody smile climbing onto his lips. “Missed the heart,” he noted drily, “..and it’s gotta be wood, stupid.”
Buffybot stared back. “I know.”
Reaching towards the stage with her left hand, Buffybot tore a long, jagged strip of wood from it. At the same time, she grabbed the mike stand with her right, and hoisted Erik straight up into the air. He gasped, clinging with sudden desperation to the metal spear as he started sliding downwards, towards the stake Buffybot was now holding directly under his heart.
“Look on the bright side,” Botty told him, as Erik’s hands started slipping loudly, “...you wouldn’t have been a legend for killing little old me. I’m not even the Slayer!”
“What..?” Erik slipped another inch, straining harder now. “Who...ARE you?”
“Joan,” Buffybot replied casually, and Erik’s grip failed at last. He rocketed down, spearing decisively on the improvised stake. He was ash before he hit the ground.
“...and YOU owe me a new outfit.”
Letting the stake and mike stand both fall to her sides, Buffybot started moving to help Oz when an odd smell reached her olfactory scanners. It was a strange odour, but one that started to make sense in her newly constructed language file, especially when she started to notice the rising surface temperature around her.
“No one hurts the eye,” it said, “...and lives.”
Ridge had the front door open and Eden nearly outside when he deciphered the smell. Annoyed, he turned and yelled back down the stairs.
“I said ABORT, Igo! We’ll get her another time, let’s GO!”
Another smell wafted upwards, informing Ridge efficiently, if somewhat pompously, of the price that must be paid by any who dared defy the living god Igo. Ridge, holding Eden over his shoulders, let out a sigh, though he couldn’t help taking a step back inside. Maybe they COULD still salvage some...
The shriek came on in a sudden wave of smell, like iodine, when the microphone stand struck itself deep into Igo’s body through his eye. The massive creature convulsed, and Ridge could see flames licking through Igo’s outer shell. The smoke he smelled wasn’t speech anymore, and he leapt for the outside, hurling Eden far ahead of him.
A second later, Igo exploded into a ball of mystic flame, nearly taking the door off it’s hinges even as it slammed shut behind Ridge and Eden. Ridge rolled forward, making sure they were both all right, then letting an angry shout roar out in all directions. He hated it when a plan fell apart. Walsh should have 86'ed the Slayer at first sight.
But that WASN’T the Slayer, he reminded himself. Whatever it was that killed Erik and Igo...and, he was fairly confident, Bob too...was something new. He’d find out what. Whatever it took, he would find out.
Then him and Eden...they’d have themselves some payback.
“Bullseye.”
Buffybot smiled with pride at the shot that took out Igo once and for all. Not bad for a girl with fluctuating power loss and glitchy targeting array.
The club was pretty much empty now that the patrons had fled out the back way. There was just her, Oz, and...
“BOB KILL! KIILLLL!!”
The vampire, bloodied and bruised, let loose with a massive hammerstrike swing, knocking werewolf Oz backwards, tumbling across the floor towards Buffybot.
Too fast for her to dodge, Buffybot could only roll with the impact as Oz barreled into her. They both scrambled to their feet in a hurry, staring one another down. Oz snarled freshly into Buffybot’s face, and she fought to keep her defensive programs from launching her into action. She hoped he was all right.
“Oz? Can you hear me?”
“RRRRRRRR!!!!”
Buffybot held her ground as Oz growled over her, edging forward. She stared into his eyes.
“Oz? It’s me...Buffybot! Do you recognize me?”
Drops of werewolf spittle dribbled onto the ground from massive jaws. “Rrrrrrrr....”
The werewolf sniffed the air around Buffybot’s head, teeth brushing against artificial hair. Optimism generators were operating at maximum inside the little robot. “...Oz?”
Inhuman eyes moved in front of Buffybot’s, staring back at her with animal intensity. And out of the growling of feral rage, a strange sound emerged. Raspy and raw.
“Rrrroo-RRROO-boTTTttt...”
Buffybot smiled, and her active threat assessors started shifting into background status. Hot breath played across her face, and with her free hand she gave Oz’ muzzle a gentle stroke. She was a little annoyed when the pounding footsteps started driving towards them.
“KILL ALL! BOB...”
Hurling the stake, Buffybot punctured Bob’s heart in mid-stride, and the angry giant staggered, teetered, and burst into nothingness. Buffybot kept her eyes on Oz the whole time.
“Shush Bob,” she whispered, staring at the slowly calming Werewolf before her with continued fascination.
“...We’re having a moment.”
***************************************************************************
“...tonight we’re playing by punk rules. And anything goes.”
Lenny’s incredulous face vanished in a cloud of dust, leaving only a doting Buffybot to stare at Spike as he lit up. She smiled bashfully.
“Anything?" She asked coyly, and Spike tossed his match to the floor with a grin.
“Anything you want, pet,” Spike replied, returning his arm to Buffybot, who never even bothered to ask him why the girl had been screaming outside the crypt (Spike had in fact goaded her into it, to make a convincing show). They started to walk out into the night air, and Spike blew a puff of smoke upwards, having no clue that in a few hours he would be being tortured by a Hellgoddess. He smiled, pulling his robot in tight.
“Anything you want.”
*****************************************************************************
Buffybot pulled Lorne’s jacket tight around her, out of modesty more than anything else, as she waited for Oz outside of the club. She’d lost a nice outfit, but other than that, she thought it had been a darn fun night out.
“I wish I’d gotten to try slamdancing,” She lamented, to which Lorne could only offer a lopsided smile.
“Most people would say that’s EXACTLY what you ended up doing, sweetness. But I’ll tell you...next time, I’m minding my own business.”
Buffybot gave him a strange look. “What do you mean?”
Lorne got up from the curb he’d been enjoying. “Remember when I read you a few weeks ago? At the club?”
Buffybot nodded. “Well, most of what I saw was a jumble...just impressions, really. But one thing stood out right off the top. An image. The same image I saw when I opened the paper this morning and saw the ad for this show.”
“I don’t quite understand,” Botty admitted, “...do you mean...”
“You were destined to be here tonight,” Lorne finished, to her surprise. “Lucky me got to be the messenger.”
Buffybot ran that through her processors. The concept itself was more than a little overwhelming to her. “Golly...thank you very much! I sure didn’t mean for you to get into trouble just on my account!”
“Ah, don’t sweat it, my little cyber-siren. But whoever your own link to the Powers is? Tell him he owes me.”
Smiling, Buffybot turned when he heard the club door open, and Oz and Axel came out to join them. Oz was wearing a t-shirt and shorts that Axel had managed to scrounge up from the band room.
“Yo, Buff! I mean, Joan, or...whatever.”
“Oz!” Buffybot waved happily. “Are you all right?”
“Tip top,” Oz reported, “...got a few love scratches from big Bob, but they’ll heal quick. Looks like you took a few yourself.”
Oz pointed out a number of obvious gashes in Buffybot’s outer layer. She smiled bashfully. “I just need a few days of quiet for my nanodrones to work. Then I’ll be good as new!”
“Cool. Listen, I was talking it over with Axel, and we’re gonna take a few days off our schedule...you know, chill out after tonight’s Assault on Nightclub 13 adventure.”
“I have fragile nerves,” Axel added, rubbing his head. "Any sign of Soldier boy and Snake lady?"
Lorne shook his head. "Deserted like proverbial rats. Doubtless cackling and swearing vengeance."
Oz paid only mild attention to the update, returning attention quickly to Buffybot. “I was thinking, maybe we could hang out a bit. Been a while since I was back in LA.”
Immediately, a huge smile sprang up on Buffybot’s face. “That would be wonderful! I’m sure Angel and Cordelia and everyone would love to see you, too!”
Oz raised an eyebrow. “So you ARE hanging with Angel? Guess that makes some sorta sense...”
“That’s right...I do have a lot to tell you, don’t I?”
“Take your time,” Oz told her, “...not that I’m not anxious to hear the tale. Gotta say, you were pretty smooth in there. The taser thing? You’re one sneaky robot.”
Buffybot smiled. “What can I say?”
Pausing to take a last look at the club, Buffybot remembered how good it felt tonight. To just be...Buffybot. She grinned.
“Tonight we were playing by punk rules.”
ADDENDUM
BEAT ON THE BRAT is a song by The Ramones. Recognize.
The Spike/Buffybot Adventure takes place during INTERVENTION. The main story takes place, as did the last one, in some massive, unexplained black hole of lost time I've invented in between the third season ANGEL episodes FREDLESS and BILLY. It could happen!
The Five are original characters, though Kyle Ridge was a member of the Initiative team seen in Season 4 of BTVS.
KICK OUT THE JAMS is from Detroit combo MC5.
Oz, aka Daniel Osbourne, was last seen in BTVS season 4 episode NEW MOON RISING. In that episode he was captured and tested upon by the Initiative, until Riley and Buffy helped him escape. He also wolfed out unintentionally earlier, trying to kill Tara.
Axel Avalon is another original character, and I'm sure I'll have him do something interesting any day now.
Erik sang LONDON CALLING by The Clash.
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