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 18: A Place for Everything, and Everything in its Place
Trixie placed an experimental hand on Xander’s thigh. He gazed at her, wide eyed. Her fingers began to creep up his thigh.
“Just relax, honey,” she said. “This won’t hurt a bit.”
Xander clutched his cell phone convulsively as her fingers strayed higher, then higher still. He cast desperately around him, for rescue. Sal had disappeared. Trixie’s hand reached his crotch, and Xander gave a little squeak.
...........
‘Crack!’ Giles and Buffybot collapsed in a tangle of limbs beside Giles’ car in the Sunnydale Penitentiary parking lot. Giles disentangled himself hurriedly. He did not want anyone thinking he had any kind of improper relationship with Buffy! He felt in his pocket and drew out his keys. “Home!” he said, “properly, this time.”
Buffybot cast a wistful look at the entrance of Sunnydale Penitentiary - she was going to miss all the gals there, and the Officers - even Miss Bozell, who she was sure was really quite nice, if you only got to know her!
..........
‘Crack!’ Maisie was sitting in the hospital bed, instead of Xander.
“Well, crap!” said Trixie, removing her hand hastily.
............
‘Crack!’ Xander landed feet from his car, still clutching Giles’ cell phone, his inner thigh still tingling. Sunnydale Penitentiary was spread across the valley below him. “Thank God for that!” said Xander fervently, “I nearly got raped! By a felon!” He raised the phone to dial home.
...........
Maisie sat up and gazed about her - where was she this time? White walls, uniforms, hospital beds, Sal and Trixie - thank God! She was back in Sunnydale Women’s Penitentiary!
“What just happened?” she said wildly.
“Ah... we think you fainted,” said Sal. “Feeling better?”
“No!” said Maisie, “my head is killing me. Where did I go?” she added, starting up from the bed.
Sal and Trixie looked at each other. “You’ve been here all the time,” said Sal. She put a gentle hand on Maisie’s shoulder, “You seem a little stressed,” she said.
“I am not,” said Maisie indignantly, “Well, yes I am. But that’s not the point. A minute ago I was in a strange house.”
“Was there a redhead there, with a power cable and an ugly blouse?” said Trixie, interested. Sal nudged her sharply in the ribs.
“A redhead?” said Maisie, deeply puzzled. “No, there was no redhead. But there was a man, dressed in leather.” She plucked at the sheet under her hand nervously.
“A man, eh?” said Sal. “What was this man doing?”
“Um,” said Maisie, “he appeared to be building a leaning tower out of Oreos. He was leaning forward on the sofa, with his legs apart, building this tower in front of him.” She watched as Sal and Trixie exchanged a significant look, “and watching tv,” she added hurriedly. “He asked me to move, and not very politely either.” She paused, “and he yelled something about passion...”
“Ve-ry interesting,” said Sal, stroking her chin. “Was anyone else there?”
“There was a girl standing on her head, too.” said Maisie “At least, I thought at first she was standing on her head - but actually she was floating.” She rustled anxiously in the bed, looking around her. Everything seemed normal.
“Well, honey,” said Sal gently, “none of that sounds all that likely, now does it? And you have just spent nearly six straight hours as Miss Danvers’ right hand woman. The strain is bound to tell.” Sal sat herself comfortably on the edge of Maisie’s bed. “Dreams are often trying to tell us something,” she said, “did anything else happen?”
Maisie shuddered. “Someone shouted something foreign, then I was in the desert, and there was a mobile phone on the sand, and a snake coiled round it. Ugh! I hate snakes - I know they’re God’s creatures, but still. And it had a very mean look in its eye.”
“Hmm, a man in black, and his leaning tower, a woman upside down, a coiled snake, and a cell phone. That sounds quite Freudian,” said Sal. “Snakes and towers are really phallic. And probably cell phones too,” she added. “Most things are phallic if you’re a Freudian.”
Maisie gazed up at Sal anxiously, she wasn’t quite sure what ‘phallic’ meant, but she feared it might be something to do with sex.
“Don’t worry, said Sal in an encouraging tone, patting Maisie’s arm, “it can be Freudian in a good way. “Like you have your sexuality fully integrated into your life - that’s why the snake is coiled around the phone.”
Maisie shrank back to the bed; she really, really hoped Sal wasn’t going to keep talking about her sex life. “I think maybe I should just lie down a little longer,” she said faintly. Then she started up again, alarmed. “Um, where are Mr Giles and Miss Bott?” she said.
“Don’t worry,” said Sal. “They’ve gone, and someone else has taken care of the paperwork.” She looked up and winked at Trixie, who was stealthily replacing the Maisie’s clipboard on the counter. “You just need a good sleep,” said Sal, patting the pillow invitingly. “Miss Danvers will be looking at the CCTV for hours.”
Maisie obediently closed her eyes. It had been a very trying day.
...........
“So,” said Spike. “As I came here to tell you, there’s a nest of ’em. Living in the sewer. I assumed they just smelled that way normally, but apparently not.”
“F’ungi demons normally smell of dead fish,” said Giles. “As you would know if you’d ever paid the slightest attention to the world around you over the last one hundred and twenty years.” He winced “I might have known I’d get a headache out of all this somehow,” he said. He had just driven home in the face of the sun, without the benefit of his glasses, and his head was splitting. “I suppose we’ll have to clear them out though,” he said unenthusiastically, “they breed like locusts.”
He looked across at his companions. Tara was sitting on the sofa, absently nibbling on an Oreo cookie. Xander sat in an armchair, with Anya in his lap, while Spike scowled at his shoulder. At that moment Buffybot skipped into the room, followed by Willow.
“Hi guys,” said Buffybot brightly, “shall we go kill Spike’s demons now?”
“She’s all recharged, and raring to go, as you can see,” said Willow.
“But not unescorted another time,” said Giles. He groaned, and got to his feet. “I suppose we ought to get to it,” he said. “I suggest you all wear clothes you won’t mind burning afterwards.”
“Great!” said Buffybot, “we get to kill demons - and then have a bonfire afterwards! Fun, fun, fun!”
Everyone groaned, and dragged themselves to their feet, trailing off to get changed.
As they went up the stairs, Tara caught up with Buffybot, and put a tender arm about her shoulders. “How was it in stir, sweetie?” she asked. “Was it real terrible in there?”
“Oh, I had a great time,” said Buffybot, beaming, “and all the gals were real friendly! I wish I was going back!” She grinned at Tara. “Plus,” she continued triumphantly, brandishing a neatly folded piece of paper, “now I have a prison pen pal! How cool is that?”
She skipped up the stairs, a smile on her lips, and a song in her heart. What a great time she’d had at dear Old Sunnydale Penitentiary! And there was more fun to come in the days and weeks ahead; she just knew it!
The End
Don't worry, Buffybot, there are two more stories about you!
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