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 17 - Now All The Boys Wanted To Play
Buffybot quivered, thrilled to her very core. Tempestra was a Girl Scout Leader! Leader in fact, of the first ever Demon Girl Scout troop. She’d known Tempestra was cool, but this was beyond anything she could have expected.
As they walked along, with Buffybot, Tempestra and Anya in front, and Xander-dog and the witches following behind, Buffybot peppered Tempestra with questions about Scouting.
“Well, of course, I had to invent some of my own badges,” said Tempestra. “Vegetarian Cookery and Celebrating People were never going to be appropriate, and my little students would keep eating the rats before they could qualify for the Pet Care badge. Not to speak of the horse I got for the Riding badge.” She sighed, “Still, we did very well with the Hunting, Tracking and Outdoor Creativity courses. Perhaps it was a mistake to introduce badges for Magical Achievement, though. Especially the one for Binding Spells - but it was so terribly popular. Though, oddly, no-one volunteered for the 'Unbinding Spells' badge."
Probably, said Anya, rolling her eyes, "because they were a bunch of evil demons."
"Yes," said Tempestra, looking sad, "Perhaps I was a little optimistic about overcoming their basically antisocial tendencies. Though Empowerment Through Organized Fun has such positive effects upon negative self image. I read a book about it."
"I guess," whispered Willow to Tara, as they followed along behind, "we just found out how she got put into that pebble."
Anya looked across at Tempestra. "And what was your normal recruitment method to your Troop, just out of interest?"
“That’s an excellent question, Anyanka dear,” said Tempestra, smiling encouragingly at her. Her face became serious, “I’m afraid you have to be very firm with young demons, since so few of them are brought up to respect their elders these days. And it is often very hard to persuade their parents too, especially since I was obliged to issue a rather lengthy disclaimer regarding mutilations and fatalities, demons being what they are. In the end I found I had to use quite forceful methods, for their own good of course.” She flexed a hefty shoulder.
“So basically, you just beat them up until they signed on the dotted line? Good method,” said Anya, nodding approvingly.
"And now," whispered Willow to Tara, "I guess we just found out why she got put in that pebble."
Buffybot’s ears twitched, and her eyes grew round. Golly! Scouting was a lot more hazardous than she’d realised.
............
Twilight had fallen in the forest, releasing Spike from his frustrating spectator's role. The moment the sun had sunk behind the trees, he had catapulted out of his resting place and laid a possessive hand on the truck door. Where a rather distressing dispute had erupted.
"I am not letting you drive this truck, Spike" said Giles, his tone patronising. "You are the worst driver it has ever been my misfortune to meet. You career through the world, leaving a trail of smoking and shattered wrecks in your wake." He had the truck's bonnet up and a greasy rag in his hand. There was an oil smear on his sweaty cheek, and various grubby marks were scattered across his bare torso. Giles was busy tuning up his new baby.
"And you drive like an old woman," yelled Spike, deeply offended. "Even in your shiny red penis-mobile."
"A car shaped like a penis?" said Acathla thoughtfully, "that would be a worthy votive offering, indeed." He walked around the truck, and ran a hand over the crane arm at the back, musing on the possibilities.
Arturo was resting his elbows on the wing of the truck, his head also under the hood, watching the confrontation with a grin on his face. He had rolled up the sleeves of his Sorcerer's robe, revealing a pair of sinewy forearms, and a rather nice Rolex watch on his left wrist. A screwdriver dangled from his fingers. He had no idea what he was doing, of course, but it was strangely fascinating all the same.
Dawn sulked in the hammock so recently abandoned by Spike. She had a cup of tea and a banana with black bits in it, delivered by what had looked suspiciously like a monkey, though it was too dark for her to see properly. The whole thing was very anticlimactic for a cross-dimensional goddess, she felt. And her demon slave seemed far more interested in car mechanics than her regal self. She kicked petulantly at the netting with a golden toed sandal, setting herself swinging. Then she turned her head. Was that voices she heard in the distance? She slipped out of the hammock, and peered into the darkness. There was a sudden mysterious reek of fish.
"Dawnie!" Dawn staggered backwards under the impact of the Buffybot, who was hugging her, hard. She felt herself lifted off her feet, and swung in an enthusiastic circle.
"But what are you doing here?" cried Buffybot. "We thought you were combating evil all by yourself in Sunnydale." She paused. "Oh dear, this is terrible - you'll have missed your Algebra and Language Arts classes."
Dawn brightened. Maybe the jungle wasn't so bad after all. "I came to rescue you guys," she said importantly. "I've bound the demon Acathla to my service, and he's really good at portals and stuff."
"Ooh!" Buffybot's eyes shone. "You're so smart, Dawnie!" She turned and cried out to the figures approaching in the gloom. "Guys! It's Dawn, and she's come to save us!"
Dawn squinted. Some of the figures looked familiar, but who was the giantess? And where was Xander?
.............
Spike had opened the truck door and jumped into the cab, planning to rev it up a bit. Unhappily for him, the ignition keys were not there. He banged the steering wheel, and then stepped out again, intending to wrest the keys from Giles' hand.
And stopped short. There was a new arrival in the clearing. A monumental woman stood by the truck, while Giles and Arturo stood in front of her, jaws gaping. She was gazing up in to the nearest tree, where the monkey troupe was dangling. They whispered nervously among themselves, staring at her.
"Oh my goodness", said Tempestra, beaming. "Monkeys. Talking monkeys! The Scouting movement was made for moments like this." The monkeys quivered in the tree. They weren't sure what Tempestra meant, but they felt in their bones that it wasn't going to be good.
She turned and looked down at Spike with amusement. "Well, well, and if it isn't a vampire." She reached out a huge hand. Spike flinched back a foot, then realised he was being offered a polite handshake. He raised an eyebrow and stepped away.
Acathla appeared from behind the back of the truck, with an earthshaking thud.
The large woman's smile broadened. "And the demon lord. My goodness." She nodded to the stony, barrel-chested demon. "Are you really called Agatha? It seems unlikely on closer examination."
The four would-be mechanics gaped at her, truck temporarily forgotten. Finally, Giles started into life. "It's Acathla," he said, licking his lips, "not Agatha. But, but .... Tempestra, is that really you? Arturo and I thought you had ascended."
"Ah, Acathla! That's much more likely. I must have misheard the young lady." Tempestra nodded to the demon, who gave a stiff bow in return. She turned to Giles. "And yes, Ripper, it's me. In the flesh. Unascended as you see. How are you? Still taking off your shirt at every opportunity, I see, and flexing those lovely biceps of yours."
There was a snort of laughter, quickly muffled, from the group of Scoobies huddled behind her.
"We really did think you'd ascended," gasped Arturo, his words tumbling over each other. "I searched for you through every plane and dimension, and could find nothing. In the end I had to assume you'd been ambushed by some cabal of demons or other, probably opposed to your excellent ... er outreach work with their youngsters. I've been burning a scented candle, and sacrificing a haddock on your altar every Monday," he added. And then tears sprung to his eyes. "My dearest love!" he cried, and he flung himself into Tempestra's large and powerful arms. She swooped him up in a swirl of sorcerer's robes, and soon the sounds of enthusiastic kissing could be heard.
"Blimey," muttered Spike, disgusted, "It's worse than 'Days of Our Lives' round here."
Buffybot looked on, delighted. She was so glad her new friend was happy. She was even glad that El Bombero was happy, although he was an evil villain. Her bright enquiring glance fell on Giles, who was standing to one side of the kissing couple, spanner dangling forgotten in his fingers, and looking a bit lonely. Poor Giles! He didn't have anyone to kiss.
.............
Back at the river, the harpy returned to her nest, a luckless forest deer clutched in her talons. She back flapped her wings, coming into land, and then started, and nearly fell out of the sky. Her tree was gone! Her claws flexed open with astonishment and the little deer tumbled thirty feet downwards, where it landed in the river with a splash. (Mercifully, the crocodile had temporarily abandoned its feeding post after its Buffybot trauma, and deer was able to swim quietly to shore, heave itself out onto the bank, and run off in to the forest again, where it had forgotten all about the incident by the time the sun had risen in the morning. Deer lead simple lives.)
The Harpy demon rose into the sky, crying out in fury. She had put years into that nest! Years of effort, and tons of branches, twigs, animal bones and fur, skin, scales and guano, all glued together with harpy spit. Beautiful! And now some vandal had come along and destroyed it in an instant. She quivered with rage. El Bombero! It had to be El Bombero. She flew off into the night, vowing vengeance and destruction.
.............
Buffybot and her little expedition came down to the riverbank. Giles, Arturo and Tempestra has settled down to a long discussion by the fire, with much tea drinking, but before she'd sat down, Tempestra had gone to her long neglected cache of personal stores, and produced a bar of orange soap and bottle of apple shampoo ("I like feeling fruity") which she had tactfully presented to Buffybot, with a suggestion that some expedition members might wish to "freshen up a little".
Buffybot had clasped the presents to her bosom as if they were holy relics. It was all very well keeping one's morale up in the jungle through a positive attitude and a creative search for food and tools, and of course she didn't sweat or sunburn, but still, 48 hours without shampoo had been an eternity. She wondered at the strange failure of her Book of Wilderness Tips to mention the necessity of taking shampoo with you at all times, and made a little note to email the author once she was home.
And of course, she had shared her spoils with the rest of the expedition. Dawn had denied being even slightly dirty, though she had given Buffybot her sandals to wash. Spike had turned his nose up at the whole idea of mussing his hair with apple shampoo, and Giles was too busy talking. But soon the riverbank was littered with pink and naked witches, ex-demons, bots and one happy, wet and soapy little furry dog. It was an idyllic scene.
Until a harpy descended from the darkness, and, screaming its terrible scream, plucked Xander dog from the spot where he lay panting on the shore, and flapped off into the night, his little furry body dangling from its claws. Poor Xander!
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