Buffybot in Tabula Rasa
PAIRING: None
RATING: PG-13
FEEDBACK: Very welcome, to [email protected]
BETA: Miss Murchison - thanks!
SETTING: This fic is set during the events of 'Tabula Rasa' in BtVS Series 6, when the Scoobies temporarily lose their memories. I've twiddled with the time sequence in the episode a tiny bit, but just call it artistic licence.
DISCLAIMER: The characters belong to Joss. I’m borrowing, and I promise to put them all back in reasonably good condition, and only slightly used.
NOTE: This story is a sequel to Buffybot Behind Bars!, but it can perfectly well be read as a stand-alone.
SCENE: A house in Sunnydale
Chapter Sixteen
Giles regarded Jonathan with a great deal of disfavour. The boy was clearly lying about something, but without resorting to the ugly bunny rubbing tactics suggested by Anya, it was beyond him to establish just what. Jonathan was certainly happy to babble about the Scoobies’ history at tedious length, anyway. Buffy, who had started the questioning awash with suspicion, had been swelling visibly as he recounted her exploits as the Chosen One, while Spike, who had been eloquently sardonic at first, had grown ever more silent and gloomy as evidence of his past wickedness was brought to light. As for himself, Giles wasn’t surprised to discover that he was the voice of reason among the company, and jolly well-read into the bargain. His relationship with Anya seemed to have come as a surprise to the lad, but then, increasingly he could see reasons why he might have wanted to keep that little peccadillo to himself. He glanced across from the shivering Jonathan to his fiancée, who was not-so-absently running a soft cloth over the head of her small axe, and whistling some kind of tune in what appeared to be Swedish. Giles closed his eyes briefly. He wondered if he was in danger of marrying in haste and repenting at leisure?
Across the room, Willow and Tara were engaged in a long serious conversation about just how to cast a hot/cold spell to search for someone whose name, appearance, and even species, were unknown. Books had been pulled from the shelves, a laptop fetched from Willow’s bedroom, and little bags of herbs strewn across the table. Elsewhere, in the basement, came the sounds of hammering as Xander and the Buffybot, somewhat sulkily assisted by Dawn, knocked together a rabbit hutch out of a packing case and assorted spare lumber.
“Ah ha!” Willow was pointing an excited finger at a line in the large ominous book that lay in her lap. “What we need here is a spell-tracking spell, instead of a person-tracking spell! Find the source of the forgetting spell and we have our Villain! Tara and I can cast this easily, since we already have a stone, and bags of talent!” She leant over and kissed Tara enthusiastically.
Anya looked up. “Is the kissing part of the spell?” she asked, looking interested, “because I’m an excellent kisser - aren’t I, Rupey darling?” She looked over at Buffy and Spike , “And Giles isn’t bad either. I bet we could generate some energy for you!”
“It isn’t part of the spell, no,” said Willow, pulling away reluctantly, and gazing into Tara’s eyes. “It’s just real nice to do.” The witches locked lips again.
“Guys,” Buffy cleared her throat. “let’s can the floorshow for now, shall we? And get with the wizard hunting program.” She gripped her new sword (commandeered from Giles) and looked sternly at Willow and Tara, who blushed, and scrambled upright.
Buffy looked at Spike. He was evil of course, and he had a lousy taste in suits, and he babbled annoyingly when he was in a good mood - but at least he had focus, unlike some other people she could think of. Right now, for instance, he had narrowed his eyes, and was looking menacingly into the distance, no doubt planning his moves for when Evil Magic Guy was in range. She looked around at the rest of her crew. They were, respectively, cowering in an armchair wiping nervous sweat from their lip (Jonathan), filing fingernails with an axe blade (Anya), gazing morbidly at what looked like a plane ticket (Giles), and trying to measure herbs into a bowl while holding hands under the table and giggling (Willow and Tara). >From the basement came the sound of hammering, a giggle, and a muffled curse. Buffy made a little ‘tchah’ noise of annoyance. How did she work in these conditions?
...........
Buffybot bounced up the stairs, lurching a bit as her left-right leg struggled to keep pace with her more athletic right-right leg. She and Xander had made a beautiful hutch for the bunnies, then he and Dawn had gone back upstairs while she stayed behind to push bits of carrots into the through the mesh and watch her furry little friends nibble away at them. But now the carrots were gone, and it was time to get on with some serious Slaying! Buffybot nodded to herself. She had exciting plans - and just as soon as they cut off that Evil Sorcerer’s head, and her friends got their memories back, she would be getting right on with her scheme for a bunny-friendly loft extension.
She burst into the living room and looked about her eagerly. The hot/cold stone lay in Giles’ oven proof casserole dish on the coffee table. Tara sat before it, sprinkling herbs, while Willow stood a few feet away, leaning against the bookshelf and reading a verse in Latin, the other Scoobies gathered in a loose circle around her. Each person was newly armed and equipped from the weapons chest Buffybot had shown them, with axes and swords slung from shoulders, and stakes in pockets. Buffybot ran to pick up her own sword, and joined her friends.
Willow closed the book with a snap, and Tara flung a last herb. “Commence!” she cried, clicking her fingers. And as they watched the stone began to glow with a dull green light.
Spike reached forward a tentative finger to touch the stone, and drew it back with preternatural speed, and a yelp of pain. “The bloody thing’s red hot!” he cried, “Or green hot anyway.” He and Buffy looked at each other, alarmed.
“The stone didn’t get hot last time until we were just a few yards from Jonathan,” said Buffy.
“The Sorcerer’s here!” said Willow, “very near to us.” Everyone jumped, and looked around them suspiciously.
“Guard the perimeter!” cried Buffy, and stepped forward to face the first living room door. Spike hurried to face the second door, and Buffybot took up guard by the window, swishing her sword eagerly. Xander stood facing the fourth, blank, wall, feeling a little foolish.
“He could be watching us,” said Jonathan, clutching Anya’s shiny little throwing axe.
“Spying,” said Dawn, staring around, a long pikestaff quivering in her hand.
“Awaiting his moment,” said Anya, loading a bolt into a crossbow, “before he decides to pounce!”
“For the stone to be this hot,” said Tara, holding her hand out above the now blazing rock, “we ought to be able to see him. Only, of course,” she added, “we have all these walls in the way.”
They all looked around them. Was the Evil Villain creeping through the hall - or maybe outside, standing in a flower bed? Suddenly the walls, instead of being comforting, seemed confining, and dangerous. They shuffled closer together, unconsciously.
“Sneaky bugger, too,” said Spike, not slackening his guard, “I can’t hear him or smell him - and my senses are amazing. I smelled the nervous sweat on Jonny boy here from nearly half a mile away!”
Jonathan shifted uncomfortably - did Spike have to mention his sweat in front of everyone? He looked around him, wondering if the Sorcerer wanted to kill everyone, or maybe just the Slayer? He edged slowly away from Buffy, just in case she was going to be the target of any nasty magical attack.
“He must be using another spell,” said Giles slowly, “to conceal himself. Although why he hasn’t attacked us already ...” His eyes made a careful sweep of the room.
Willow jumped to her feet. “Well, we’ll do a counter-counter-spell to unmask him!” She hesitated, and looked over at Tara, who had just raised her brows enquiringly. “Well, at least we’ll do that once we’ve looked one up.” She took a step forward, determined.
“It’s getting brighter!” yelled Dawn. The group turned involuntarily for a second - the stone was now almost unbearably bright, washing the whole room in acid green.
Buffy turned back to the door she was guarding, her eyes straining for any flicker of movement. “Still nothing?” she asked Spike.
He shook his head, eyes and nostrils straining, “Not a damn thing,” he said, frustrated. “It’s as if there were no one and nothing else here at all.”
Buffybot clutched her sword more tightly, and narrowed her eyes. This Super Villain was a clever one!
Willow paused for a moment, transfixed by the glowing stone, took another step forward, and then froze as the stone shone brighter - almost impossibly bright. “He’s getting closer,” cried Tara, averting her eyes from the glare, and grabbing Willow’s hand. “He must be almost on top of us!”
“On top of us?” yelled Xander. He stepped backwards hurriedly, and pointed upwards. “Oh my God, it’s like Aliens! He’s in the ceiling! Everyone’s eyes were drawn morbidly upwards.
“The lampshade moved,” screamed Jonathan.
Giles spoke between clenched teeth. “The lampshade is moving, because of the heat from the stone is creating thermal ...”
Anya loosed off a crossbow bolt, which struck the light fitting and clattered down, nearly hitting Tara.
“Darling!” cried Willow, grabbing Tara in her arms, and sinking on to the sofa.
“Look at the stone now!” shrieked Dawn. Everyone stared. Little lightning flares were flickering across the stone’s surface, and spitting upwards into the air. Willow bent over the oven dish, shading her eyes. The stone began to move. Crack! The casserole dish split and the stone rolled across the table. Willow grabbed it reflexively as it fell - and it exploded in her hand, in a shower of ash and phosphorescence.
There was a long, long silence. Willow sat frozen on the sofa, coated in green dust from head to foot, a surprised expression on her face.
“Golly, said the Buffybot, “well I for one certainly wasn’t expecting that! How exciting!”
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