Buffybot Behind Bars
PAIRING: None
RATING: PG-13
FEEDBACK: Very welcome, to [email protected]
BETA: Miss Murchison - thanks!
SETTING: The summer before the start of season 6. Buffy is gone, Buffybot is doing her best to fill the gap.
DISCLAIMER: The only characters who belong to me are the ones you’ve never heard of before. Otherwise, I’m borrowing, and I promise to put them all back in good condition, and only slightly used...
Chapter 16: Giles to the Rescue
Giles sat in his car, fiddling nervously with his glasses. They were heavier than usual, because of Willow’s last minute brainwave, which he was hoping fervently wouldn’t be needed.... He pushed his glasses firmly up the bridge of his nose, and reached for the door handle. He had faced down demons, and even Gods. No reason to be nervous about visiting a Women’s Prison. He straightened his shoulders, and stepped firmly out of his car.
.............
Tara and Anya were sitting in the living room. Tara was practising her Ajapa yoga breathing - she was still feeling a bit tense. Anya was coming to the end of ‘A New Girl at St Clare’s’. She read the last words, then threw the book down grumpily. “Huh!” she said, “the little idiot’s looking forward to going back next term - she must be a glutton for punishment.” Anya glared discontentedly at the book’s cover, which showed a chirpy girl with a hockey stick running across a playing field. “No sex, and no violence. Where’s the point of a book like that?”
Tara opened her eyes reluctantly, and looked across at her, careful to maintain her calming breaths. “I told you (breath) you wouldn’t like it (breath). But you insisted on reading it anyway (deep breath).”
Anya pouted. She was sticking to Stephen King from here on.
The doorbell rang. Anya looked at Tara, who looked stubbornly back at her, hands resting palms up on her knees. “I’m not answering,” said Tara firmly.
“It could be Xander, with your phone,” said Anya, temptingly. Several hours before, Xander had set out, with Giles’ cell phone in hand, to stalk the desert around Sunnydale Women’s Penitentiary, ringing Tara’s number and hoping to hear the answering peal that would find her cell phone.
“It could be all sorts of things (breath); social workers, or worse,” said Tara, closing her eyes firmly.
Anya got up and stomped angrily to the door. Really, Tara was getting unattractively stubborn these days. As she opened it, Spike threw himself into the hall, smoking slightly, despite his protective leather coat, leather gloves and leather sombrero hat. He slammed the door shut behind him.
“Bloody weather,” he said bitterly. “Sun, sun, sun all bloody day. Day in, day out. Why the hell does the Hellmouth have to be in bloody California? Manchester would be much nicer.”
Anya looked at him disapprovingly, as he took off the hat, and balanced it against the wall. “As it is,” he continued, looking at the hat with deep disgust, “I get to look like a Mexican with a big fetish problem.”
Anya folded her arms, “Why don’t you stick to skulking about in the darkness, like all the other bloodsuckers?” she said. “You just have to be different, don’t you?” She gestured up the hall, “Tara is doing yoga or something in the living room, Willow is attached to her computer as per usual. Welcome to the House of Fun.”
Spike looked around. “Where’s old Giles, then?” he said. “I’ve got a bit of news for him.”
“He’s visiting The Amazing Walking Talking Demon Slicer,” said Anya broodingly. “He’ll be back sometime; he always is.”
“Oh, that’s brilliant!” said Spike bitterly. “Never here when he’s needed, is he?” He stuffed his hands into his jeans pockets, and looked around. “Well, I’m not going out again in that sun,” he said. “What’s on the telly? And where are the biscuits kept?” He pushed past her and moved towards the kitchen.
Anya sniffed, “Time was, vampires had manners, and class. Unlike some I could mention.”
Spike turned briefly, looked bored. “Feeling your two thousand years today, are you love?” he said. “Remembering the good old days, when you used to torture men to death, and they remembered to say ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ in all the right places?” He sauntered off, leaving Anya simmering in the hallway.
When she was quite sure he was gone, she picked up the letter opener from the table beside her, and jabbed a neat hole in the top of Spike’s sombrero.
“Ha!” she said, “Take that! I may not be a demon any more - but there are always ways.” Then she replaced the letter opener, and strode away, good temper restored.
..............
Giles stood at the visitors counter at Sunnydale Women’s Penitentiary, fingering his visitor’s permit. Something was going on. He had been there for nearly a quarter of an hour, and the staff were clearly nervous. Nearly as nervous as he was. The Visitor Greeting Officer, who had disappeared some minutes previously, scurried back into the room. She was a round lady with a sensible bob, and a fuzzy sweater over her regulation blouse. Her badge (‘Hi! I’m Maisie! Can I Help?’) was pinned on upside down. She threw Giles a harried smile.
“Hi there!” she brightly, “A senior officer will be with you in just a moment. Um, things are a little busy just now.” She gathered up a sheaf of papers and straightened them.
“I do have an appointment,” said Giles pointedly.
Maisie smiled again, then cast a little look at the door behind her. Just at that moment a loud voice boomed in the distance, and she flinched.
“...discipline through Sport! It’s the only way. I said Team Sports should be compulsory!”
The door behind Maisie burst open, and a short bosomy woman with a monocle stepped through, gesturing widely with her shooting stick. Maisie pressed herself against the wall, and Giles took an involuntary step backwards, despite the counter between them.
“Mr Giles?” shouted Miss Danvers, advancing around the counter towards him, with her hand outstretched. “Welcome, welcome, welcome. I do hope your visit to Sunnydale Women’s Penitentiary will be a pleasant one. Things are bit lively at present. We had a rather jolly riot last night. Had to hose ’em all down in the end. Luckily I run the Sunnydale Women’s Penitentiary Volunteer Firefighting Team, so we had the tools to hand, and the drills in place!”
“You broke up a riot with a water hose?” said Giles, impressed. Miss Danvers certainly looked like a woman who could break up a riot.
Miss Danvers laughed heartily, “Goodness me, no. The riot stopped once they ran out of gumbo to throw. We used the hoses to clean ’em down before we let them out of the canteen. Gumbo is very sticky stuff, you know. Anyhow, now we have a lockdown in progress. All very exciting. First one since the US went out of the World Cup. And the riot is all on CCTV - I’m going to enjoy watching the bit where Miss Bozell gets it! Ha! Ha! Ha!”
Giles pulled himself to his full height. “I very much hope that Miss Bott was not injured in this fracas,” he said coldly.
“Not at all, said Miss Danvers cheerfully.
“Good,” said Giles.
“No, she conked out before the riot happened apparently,” said Miss Danvers. “Extraordinary thing. Come on, you can visit her in the Infirmary!”
She turned and ploughed down the corridor, with Maisie rushing ahead with a swipe card and a bunch of keys to open the doors. Giles tagged along behind her, feeling a little dazed. Several corridors, doors, locks and bars later they came to the prison hospital, where a neat row of narrow hospital beds housed a motley group of inmates, many sporting bandages and plaster casts. Giles cast about him wildly. Where was Buffybot?
“Ooh!! It’s Mr Giles! Hi there!”
Giles turned, and saw Buffybot skip towards him, a huge pile of sheets in her arms. She grabbed him in an enthusiastic embrace, crushing the sheets up between them. An especially heavily starched sheet caught Giles in the face, and his glasses fell to the floor with a clatter.
“Oof!” said Giles.
..............
Tara was feeling hard done by. After the ordeal with Mr Ormsbach yesterday, and Xander losing her phone, she was in need of some peace and quiet in which to meditate. Instead, Spike had come slouching in, and turned on the tv without so much as a by your leave. Well she sure wasn’t leaving! It wasn’t his living room. She would just continue to breathe, and chant - so there!
.............
Buffybot continued to squeeze Giles in an enthusiastic embrace.
“Ah, Buffy,” said Giles, “I’m happy to see you too - but my ribs are breakable.”
“Oops!” said Buffybot happily. She released Giles, and placed the sheets neatly on a nearby bed.
Miss Danvers smiled at her. “Seemingly, Miss Bott is the only inmate in Sunnydale Women’s Penitentiary who didn’t take part in the food riot,” she said. “And she is therefore not on a charge, and not subject to the lockdown. So we decided to use her in the Infirmary. She’s making herself useful, and if she conks out again, the doctor is handy.” She beamed at Buffybot, who beamed back. “She’s a very good little team player. Excellent attitude!” Buffybot stood a little straighter. Miss Danvers pulled a crumpled paper out of her jacket pocket. “I have a signed release form,” she said cheerfully, slapping it into Giles’ hand, “so she’s now in your custody.”
Giles stared. “Just like that?” he said feebly.
“Just like that,” said Miss Danvers, “although I shall be sorry to see her go, frankly.” She patted Buffybot on the back, and Buffybot glowed with pride.
“Right!” said Miss Danvers, “I’m off to look at the CCTV footage - it should be a blast!” She took Buffybot’s hand and shook it once, firmly. “Maisie will sign you both out,” she said merrily, “have a nice trip!” And she was gone in a breathtaking swirl of tweed.
“There must be more to the procedure,” said Giles plaintively, still dazed.
“There is,” said Maisie, stepping closer now that Miss Danvers was gone, “lots of forms and stuff; but Miss Danvers is a ‘big picture’ kind of administrator. The rest is down to me. Stay here for a moment.” She went across to the administration desk, and consulted a clipboard.
Giles caught Buffybot by the elbow. “Are you ok?” he asked worriedly, “we were afraid you might be a bit run down by now.”
Buffybot lowered her voice, “Giles - do you think bald heads are cute?”
Giles blinked - of all the things he had imagined Buffybot might say when he rescued her...
“I think they are!” said Buffybot.
Giles coughed, and smoothed down the lapels of his jacket. “Well,” he said, a touch defiantly, “I certainly don’t think any one needs to make a fuss about it when a chap’s hairline recedes a bit - it’s perfectly natural.”
“No, no!” said Buffybot, “I mean totally bald - and shiny! I think shiny bald heads are cute!”
She looked up and flashed a megawatt smile at a small black woman with a shiny bald head, who was heading down the corridor towards them.
“This is Sal!” said Buffybot, “She serviced me this afternoon!”
Giles coughed again.
Sal heard Buffybot’s last words as she approached. “That’s the battery and oil change type of service,” she said, grinning at Giles, and patting Buffybot’s shoulder. “I jacked her up to the battery from Miss Bozell’s car. Our favorite Corrections Officer may have a little difficulty starting her motor tonight, but into every life some rain must fall.”
“Ahem,” said Giles, “ Nice to meet you, er, Sal.” He shook Sal’s hand. “I see Buffy’s - that is Buffybot’s - nature is known to you,” he said cautiously.
“Yeah,” said Sal, “and a lovely piece of engineering she is.” Buffybot gave a pleased little wiggle. Sal had said all sorts of very complimentary things about her circuit boards earlier, too!
“You seem to have taken the news very calmly,” said Giles.
“Hey, I’m a Sunnydale native,” said Sal. “I got used to demons and vampires, so robots aren’t really a big shock after that. She smiled fondly down at Buffybot, “Luckily she managed to re-power herself just long enough to tell me what she needed. I recruited an assistant, and we were away.” Sal looked wistful, “This weekend has actually been the most fun I’ve had here in the last two years. Breaking out during a lockdown, stealing a car battery and jump leads, and then doing it all again, to put them back. Good times.” She sighed nostalgically, “It’s a pity Trixie broke her arm, but I told her not to go headfirst out of that window, with a battery under her arm.”
“Trixie?” said Giles, hopelessly lost. Sal turned aside, and waved to a sallow, greenheaded woman sitting up in a bed three rows along. Trixie waved her arm cast back at them merrily.
Giles drew a deep breath - things were getting complicated.
Chapter 17: Willow Makes Things More Complicated
Feedback is very welcome!
Return to Keswindhover's home page