Buffybot's Birthday Adventure
RATING: PG-13 for sex.
FEEDBACK: Yes, please, to [email protected]
PAIRINGS: None.
DISTRIBUTION: Ask me first - but I'm going to say yes.
PROPS: Miss Murchison and Chartophile for the beta. Thanks!
SPOILERS: None. This is set pre-season 6.
DISCLAIMER: These characters are not mine, but I’m just poking fun.
Chapter 10 - Oh Dear, Giles
Four favours! Buffybot gazed at Giles, who had his head in his hands. Poor Giles! He was going to have to do four difficult and amazing things to repay El Bombero for saving their four lives. But wait! Surely that wasn't quite true. Surely any of them could repay the favours? One for all and all for one! That could be their motto, like the Mouseketeers on tv. She quivered with eagerness to get hold of Tara and Anya and Xander and explain her plan to them all.
"Well, if we can cure the temporal slips that will be one favour back," said Giles. He had raised his face from his hands but he was still looking harried.
"Would getting rid of the dinosaur be another one?" Tara frowned. "Though I admit I can't quite think of a humane way to deal with it at the moment."
"Bugger humane ways!" Spike rolled his eyes. "It's a monster, red in tooth and claw. It sinks its teeth into the kind of soft touchy feely dinosaurs that eat flowers, and disembowels 'em alive." He reached into his pocket, dug out his cigarettes and lighter, and lit a cigarette. "Anyway, I reckon we can blow it to kingdom come with a deftly placed charge of dynamite. Just need another portal spell to get some."
"If it doesn't trample us all to death first," said Giles gloomily. "It rampaged through the area on Friday, destroyed nearly all the tree houses and squashed a monkey. And the longer it goes without finding a square meal, the more destructive it's going to get."
Buffybot gasped. That poor little monkey! Squashed by a rampaging giganotosaurus. She squared her shoulders. Whether it counted as a favour to El Bombero or not they were going to have to send the dinosaur packing.
Tara was frowning. "I don't think we should just be casually killing ancient life forms," she objected. "Suppose it's from an endangered species?"
"It's every other species that's endangered when it's about, Tara love," Spike drew on his cigarette. "Us included. Let's blow it up and be done with it."
Giles raised his eyes to the heavens. "We are not going to blow up the dinosaur with dynamite."
"Good!" said Tara.
"Why not?" asked Spike, frowning.
"Because plastic explosives are much more practical." Giles headed towards the kettle, leaving Buffybot gasping behind him. She stared at him as he poured hot water into the teapot, terribly worried. The stress was getting to him, she could see it. She made a mental note to herself to work on building his morale just as soon as she possibly could, as well as repaying the favours.
……….
Dawn stared at the empty room. This was bad, very bad. Very, very, very bad. She stepped gingerly back over the now broken chalk line and made a few rather half-hearted attempts to clear up the broken crucibles, and prevent gloop from running off the table and on to the living room carpet.
She took her cell phone out of the pocket of her fashionably tight jeans, and dialled Giles again. The phone rang ten times, and clicked over to Giles’ voicemail message. She listened to his recorded voice, tapping her fingers against her thigh nervously. Where the hell was he? And Spike? They should have been home hours ago. Had they been sucked through a portal like everyone else? Or just eaten by demons somewhere on a hill in Sunnydale? Either way, it was hard to see what else could happen to make things worse.
A blast of cold air hit her on the back of the neck, and she jumped a foot. What a dumb thing to think, Dawn, she told herself. Things can always be worse. She turned, trembling. The portal had popped open again. It was currently about the size and appearance of a swirly bucket of black ink, but as she watched it doubled, trebled, quadrupled in size, to become a huge roaring maw. A shadowy figure materialised in its depths, and Dawn swallowed. It didn’t look like Willow, somehow.
She turned tail and ran. The living room door slammed shut in front of her and she turned, panting. Out of the portal stepped a huge scaly demon, horns gleaming and muscles bulging. He moved stiffly forward step by step, as Dawn desperately rattled the doorknob. He came to the scuffed chalk line, gazed down at it and raised a contemptuous eyebrow, then stepped neatly over the markings and out in to the living room, shedding rock dust with every step.
“Now, who has summoned me to this misbegotten planet for a second time?” roared the demon Acathla.
………
Hoots and whistles blew up all around them, causing Giles to spill some tea. He gave a sharp exclamation of annoyance, then turned to see El Bombero crossing the clearing at a swift jog, monkeys bounding all around him.
"There's been another temporal slip, Rupert," gasped El Bombero, "Not as bad as some of the others, but still serious. A witch this time. Pale, skinny redhead, a bit geeky looking. Wearing what looks like a skinned ostrich. I've no idea what world she can be from."
Giles took a gulp of scalding tea, and spat it out convulsively, much to the amusement of the monkeys.
"Willow!" cried Tara, jumping to her feet. "It's Willow! And that's her fake feather boa - she's very fond of it."
El Bombero patted the choking Giles on the back. "Ah," he said, "so she's from California, I might have guessed. Are you all right, old fellow?" he asked, bending over Giles solicitously.
Tara grasped his arm. "Where is she?" she cried.
El Bombero shrugged, “Hard to say exactly, but she’s upriver. Maybe 50 miles or so."
"Still hasn't really got the hang of those tracking spells, has she?" said Spike, yawning.
Buffybot patted Tara's arm and frowned at Spike. Poor Willow had got the right planet, and the right continent after all - and she bet that was hard to do. Meanwhile though, "Can you teleport Willow here?" she asked El Bombero eagerly.
El Bombero smiled down at her. "Yes indeed, little metal girl." He looked at the assembled throng of sweaty and dishevelled Scoobies. "Would you like me to do that?"
"Ye...." started Buffybot.
"NO!!" shouted everyone else at once.
Buffybot gasped. El Bombero had been trying to trick her! To get another favour in the bag. She gazed at the Sorcerer through narrowed Buffybot eyes. Really, sometimes you just couldn't trust people!
El Bombero frowned. "Very well," he said stiffly. "Then no doubt you will work out a way to recover your friend by yourselves. Once you've worked out exactly where she is located, that is." He looked at Giles pointedly, “and when you’ve worked out how to solve my various little difficulties, no doubt you’ll let me know. If any of you ever wish to leave here, that is.” And he stalked away, back held very straight.
Giles wiped his brow. "Well done, everyone. The last thing we need is to owe Arturo anything more."
"You've got to admire his tactics," said Spike, looking at the retreating Sorcerer. "Of course, in my wicked days, I'd have just strung him up and flashed a fang ‘til he did the job - that's old school negotiating, that is. But I can’t do stuff like that now I’m a good boy.”
“Why not?” said Tara, scowling at the Sorcerer.
“Arturo has a very effective repelling spell.” Giles sighed, and took a more cautious sip of his tea.
“I’ve noticed,” said Tara. “He’s repelling me more by the minute.” Buffybot giggled and Giles gave them both a reproving look.
“So even if it were ethical for Spike to, er, ‘string him up and flash a fang’ all that would be likely to result is that Spike would get some very nasty third degree burns. Which would be amusing, but not helpful.”
Tara began to pace around the forest floor. “And while you and he are playing around with this stupid favour game, poor dear Willow is all alone in the jungle. Anything could happen to her!”
"I keep pointing out," said Spike impatiently, "that our red-headed gal pal is a lot more dangerous to other peop..."
He was interrupted by a sharp cry of anguish from Giles. "What's biting the book man?" he asked peevishly.
Giles was clutching at his hair, glasses askew. "Do you realise?" he cried, "What this means?" He walked around in an agitated circle, "It means that as of this moment Dawn is the only thing standing between Sunnydale and evil."
There was a long and terrible silence, as faces paled and limbs trembled.
“Well, we'd better hurry up and find a way to get home then, before she manages to open the hellmouth by tripping over a pentacle somewhere, and bursting a pimple,” The voice had come from behind them. They all turned.
Anya stood before them, glowing with a faint sheen of perspiration. Her nose shone a burnished red, while the mud and indigo had melted and run together on the rest of her face, creating a strange ghostly purplish mask. Her clothes were tattered, and her feet were bare. Her spear, now tipped with red, rested on one shoulder, while a small wild boar was draped across the other.
By her feet crouched Xander-dog, tongue hanging from the side of his mouth and lips pulled back to reveal sharp white teeth, and bright pink gums. His eyes shone with a feral gleam, and there was blood on his paws.
“Finally!” cried Spike, leaping to his feet. “Someone’s brought home the bacon!”
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