*****

"One can never love anyone as much as they love their own self."

The words floated to me from some hidden corner of my mind. I couldn't remember where I had heard them, didn't care.

But I could just imagine my reaction the first time I must have heard them. Now, I seriously considered them, wondering if there was some truth to the words quoted by some egocentric creep.

The first time I had seen her -- it --, I had been too distracted to pay much attention to her. Not to mention that I had been completely ticked off and slightly in denial. I had dismissed her as a tame imitation of myself.

Now, I looked at her and marveled at just how real she -- it -- looked. It was almost like looking in the mirror, except not.

She lacked the dark circles that I had developed under my eyes after mom's death. Her hair was soft and perfectly styled while mine looked flat and dull after my nightly patrol. Her eyes were perfectly made up and stared at me unseeingly. And she lacked the cut on her forehead that I had acquired tonight.

It was almost as if I was looking through the mirror to a time when I wasn't a slayer. She -- I -- was utterly beautiful. Perfection personified.

I laughed out loud at my conceited thoughts, my laughter echoing through the basement.

I finally lifted my hand and touched her -- it -- for the first time. Her skin felt just like mine; it even seemed warm. Her lips were slightly parted and I traced them with my fingertips.

It felt strange, but comforting in a creepy way. I brought up my other hand to stroke her hair.

There was an odd comfort in this. I forgot completely what I had come down to the basement for as I kept up my exploration of the lifeless android that looked just like me.

Not entirely conscious, I reached behind her neck and turned her on, putting life back into her.

She blinked once, and I quickly pulled away my hands from her.

She brightly smiled a smile that I hadn't seen on my own lips in quite a while. She gave a little jump and stepped towards me, making me step back. She looked around impatiently and the first word out of her mouth was, "Spike?"

I groaned in silence, not knowing why exactly I was annoyed and surprised by that. Spike had not just designed the robot to look like me, he had also had her programmed to love him. Only him.

"Have you seen Spike?" She asked, her bright smile intact.

I shook my head. "This is my house. Spike isn't welcome here," I said sharply, irritated.

Her face fell as she processed that information, "Oh."

Immediately, I felt bad. I felt bad for hurting the feelings of a robot. This was definitely getting weird.

I took a step towards her, fully expecting her to step back. She didn't. I reached out and ran my fingers through her hair. I was only mildly surprised when she didn't make me stop.

She might have been programmed to love Spike, but she was still designed to be me.

"One can never love anyone as much as they love their own self."

Again the words floated through my head and stirred something within me.

As if she knew what I was thinking, she reached out her hand and lightly touched the cut on my forehead; I almost didn't feel it.

Her touch felt healing in a way. I closed my eyes as her hand that felt so much like my own moved down my face. When the caress was over I opened my eyes and exhaled lightly. I looked into her eyes and saw they were full of the same longing that I now felt. They sparkled slightly in the light and her golden hair seemed to shine.

"You're gorgeous." I said softly and added in a whisper, "Just like me."

"We're very pretty," she said, echoing my own thoughts this time

~End~