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 8 - How Did You Find Us?
"Ah," said Giles, "Er, it's rather a long story."
"Good!" cried Buffybot, beaming at him. She loved long stories!
Anya stepped forward. "Right, well, before we begin, let's put a stop to this." She plunged a hand into the monkey scrum, hauling out Xander-dog by the scruff of his neck, and tumbling monkeys in all directions.
She tucked Xander-dog under her arm and glared at the miscreants. "Xander is my dog. Not some walking flea factory. Find your own fleas!" She patted Xander-dog absently, and he licked her hand. She smiled at him, and then turned back to her white-faced audience. "And if I find any of you have harmed so much as a hair on poor Xander's head, I will string you up by your ridiculously long, hairy opposable thumbs - or better yet, by your ridiculously long, hairy opposable toes."
Several monkeys, who had tufts of Xander-fur stuck to their long fingers, quickly put their hands behind their backs, and assumed innocent expressions.
"You should be ashamed of yourselves," said Anya virtuously, "victimising a poor dumb beast like that."
"I am not dumb," said Xander-dog indignantly, wriggling under Anya's arm.
"Xander's right, Anya," said Buffybot seriously. "Xander isn't dumb, at all. He talks really well!"
Anya rolled her eyes. "Have it your own way," she said, dumping Xander-dog unceremoniously on the ground. She turned to where El Bombero was handing Giles and Tara a cup of tea, and ushering them each to a campstool. "Now, Giles. Who brought us here? What is your plan for wreaking terrible vengeance on them? And how are you going to get us home?"
Giles took a sip of tea. "I'm afraid things are a bit more complicated than you realise," he began.
"No, they aren't." Everyone turned in the direction of the new voice. It was Spike! He swaggered across the clearing and draped himself across the last free campstool. "Old Ripper called you all here, but he made a bit of hash of it, seems like. The only complicated bit is him tying himself in knots trying to avoid admitting it."
Giles jumped to his feet, spilling his tea, and pointed angrily at Spike. "You interrupted the Summoning!" he shouted. "You, you stupid, ignorant, loutish half-baked excuse for demon spawn." He shuddered, then sat down abruptly, and drew off his glasses, which were now covered in brown splashes.
Buffybot stared at Giles in amazement. It was very unlike him to shout. And point. But perhaps the jungle conditions were getting to him? She mentally reviewed the passages on morale in her book of ‘Wilderness Tips’. Giles was showing some classic symptoms of stress, she noted. He was unkempt, and sweat stained, and his hand shook with an almost invisible tremor as he raised his glasses and commenced to polish them free of tea.
"I apologise for raising my voice," said Giles in a choked voice, not looking at anyone. "But I have been severely tried."
"Sticks and stones, Rupert.” Spike grinned, and leaned back on his stool. “Now, if you’d just followed my advice from the start, none of this would have happened." He accepted a cup of tea and three digestives from the Sorcerer, and settled back, making an expansive gesture. "'So we need an SUV, says I? Righto, let’s nick one. I fancy one of those big shiny BMW X5s. We can Summon one from the BMW showroom in LA.' 'Oh, we can’t do that,' says he. 'That would be Wrong. Let’s borrow the Jeep that’s been sitting in Buffy’s garage not doing anyone any good,' says he. 'No one’s touched that in months,' says he. 'We can borrow that, no trouble,' says he. 'Well, if you insist on being a boring old fart,' says I, 'let's get on with it and pinch the Jeep.' So we rope in the Sorcerer here, and put together the Summons.... ”
"And then you made that ridiculous remark about Jackie Milburn playing for Sunderland, and distracted me at a crucial moment," said Giles, burying his head in his hands. Spike smirked.
"Which meant," continued El Bombero smoothly, "that Rupert did not immediately notice your presences and terminate the Summons. However, luckily I was able to take measures to avoid the tragedy that was imminent, and all ended well." He smiled again.
"And I'm very grateful," said Giles, biting the words out between his teeth.
“Why did you need an SUV, Giles?” asked Buffybot eagerly, cutting to the heart of the matter. Everyone ignored her.
"Oh dear!" said Tara. "So you summoned the Jeep, just when we'd decided to use it for our trip." She looked at her hands. "I knew I should never have agreed to borrow the thing."
"Especially since it was Dawn who said you should," added Xander-dog, nodding.
"YOU dragged us through that portal, and stole that jeep!" shouted Anya, rising to her feet and pacing about the clearing. "You, Giles! And to think you gave me a hard time for selling a dried coconut to that woman, and telling her it was a shrunken head fetish." Her eyes narrowed. "And, speaking of selling things; if you're here in this forest, who is minding the store?!"
"Never mind the store," cried Tara. Anya bridled, offended. "Who is fighting the vampires? Poor darling Willow can't do it alone."
"Course she can," said Spike, cramming his third biscuit into his mouth. "I mean, she'll probably just incinerate the whole town centre and leave a gaping hole in the earth. But she'll kill any pesky vamps in the process, no trouble. And the little Bit can stand well behind her."
Tara cast him an exasperated look. Spike was not taking matters seriously, in her view. And he'd upset poor Giles. Well, messing up a Summons and nearly killing them all had probably upset Giles too, but Spike wasn't helping.
"So," Spike tilted back on his campstool on to two legs, and stretched his legs. "Where's the jeep then? Let's get this show on the road!"
There was a silence.
"The jeep's squished, Spike," said Buffybot. She made a demonstrative squishing gesture with her hands. "It got squished going through the little portal." Spike swung his stool back onto four legs, his jaw dropping.
El Bombero nodded. "Yes, I compressed the vehicle to allow the passage of these charming people through the void."
"And turned me into a dog, for some reason," said Xander-dog, scowling through his whiskers. He was holding a grudge about that.
Tara had been frowning. "Oh!" she said. "I think I figured out why you did that. Yes, it was clever."
"Matter conservation," said Giles gloomily, nodding. "A dog's smaller than a man."
The Sorcerer turned his gaze on Xander-dog. "I apologise for the discomfort, oh noble traveller. But without my mutating you to a smaller form, you would not have fit through the portal."
"And being furry is much better than being a squished bloody pulp and smeared across the universe from here to infinity," said Tara, patting Xander-dog gently, and looking across at the Sorcerer. He bowed to her and flashed white teeth in a smile.
"A bit better, at least," added Anya, curling her lip.
"Never mind Porky the Dog Boy!" yelled Spike, leaping to his feet. "Do you mean to say we still don't have a bloody car, after we went through all that eight hour ritual crap to get one? Well, that's just great, that is."
Giles looked across at him. "If you could have resisted the urge to drop in that remark about Jackie Milburn at the crucial moment," he said pointedly, "I could have noticed our friends' presence in time, and transferred the Summons to another vehicle. But then you have a history with cars, don't you? No means of transport is safe in your hands." He rose wearily from his seat. "I suppose we should go and see what's left at least," he said unenthusiastically. "Perhaps Spike can bend it back into shape with his bare hands - he must have had practice with that De Soto of his." He turned to Tara, "And I'll explain what's going on along the way."
..............
"What's going on?" Dawn was standing in the living room of Revello Drive, inside a chalked pentacle, which had been drawn rather messily on the carpet, and marked at each point with candles, set on saucers. She leant over one of three crucibles that sat on the living room table bubbling, hissing, and occasionally spitting foul globs of material on to the varnished table top. She gazed doubtfully into its depths, and fingered the bandage on her elbow. She wasn't at all sure she was happy watching her own blood boiling in a little dish, especially when it was mixed with black and sticky things she couldn't even pronounce. Also, the whole thing smelt disconcertingly like pot roast cooking.
Willow kept reading from the heavy Latin book that lay open beside her. "I think I've got the incantations right this time," she said, finally slamming the book shut. She rubbed her temple, smudging chalk across her sweating forehead. "And I'm opening a portal, same as whoever snatched Tara and Xander did, here." She pointed to the first crucible in the row. "I'm also using a seeking spell, to get it to open in the same place that Tara went, here." She pointed to the second crucible. "And I'm sacrificing the blood of a virgin to the Demon Acathla, to ask him to grant us safe passage through the void between worlds, here." She pointed to the crucible with Dawn's blood in it.
"It all seems kinda complicated," said Dawn, gazing at the three bubbling crucibles, and the haphazard pile of opened spell books scattered around them inside the pentacle.
"Well of course it's complicated," snapped Willow. "If it was easy, everyone would do it." She picked up a large tome again, and began to re-read chapter six, breathing heavily through her nose.
"Only in some parallel world where everyone was a spell-obsessed nut job, with control issues," muttered Dawn to herself. She looked at the crucibles again. She might not be as smart as Willow, but it didn't take a genius to see that this wasn't going to end well.
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