Yes, I am trying very hard to update. I love being back and writing for all of you. It makes me happy and more relaxed than I've gotten to be in ages. You'll likely see a few stories that many of you have long-thought dead being added to now and again. For instance, I just updated a story I haven't touched in over FIVE years. I'd appreciate it if you were willing to give some of them another go-round as I update them. They are near and dear, though much abused. Disclaimer:
I do not claim to own the intellectual property of those who own the rights to BtVS and SG1. No infringements intended.Timeline:
Buffy post-The Body, Season 5, Stargate- Season 5.Chapter Five “We are identical, right down to the mole on our…” “Hey! Shut up!” –Robotic Carter & Samantha Carter
The blonde haired man, Spike, who was currently pinned under the first blonde woman, looked more than stricken by the arrival of the second, identical blonde woman. At least stricken enough that he paused mid-act and raised himself up on his elbows to make hasty eye contact around the right hip of the still enthusiastic “Buffy.”
“Buffy, I’m sorry… I know… I know what this looks like.”
Buffy? As in Buffy 1 and Buffy 2? Sex Buffy and Pissed With a Crossbow Buffy? Role Play Buffy and…And Jack knew, he knew better than to open his mouth but that had certainly never stopped him before so before he could self-edit, his traitorous tongue addressed the bizarreness of the tableau before them in the offhanded way he’d managed just a few alien invasions ago.
“Are you two twins?”
The second apparent “Buffy” leveled a glare at him, Spike looked surprised the two SG1 members were even there, and Daniel mostly looked pained and weary.
“Well,” Jack continued semi-defensively, “Maybe not twins if they’re both named Buffy because, come’on, but… clones?”
His teammate sighed and buried his head in his hands.
Feeling desperate under the weight of the stares Jack pushed onward. “Alternative dimension Buffys? Buffies? Buffsters? What is the plural of Buffy?”
Daniel sighed again and the second Buffy, the one with a frickin’ crossbow, started to venture into cranky. Jack tried one more time, “Robots? We’ve done robots before.”
And suddenly the crossbow wasn’t pointed so much in his general direction as aimed squarely at the place between Spike’s eyes as the woman Jack was starting to speculate as the “real” Buffy said in a very, very cold and increasingly shrill voice, “You had Warren make you a ROBOT of me? A ROBOT?!”
The first, potentially robotic Buffy turned her head and beamed first at him and Daniel before focusing on the other, much more deadlier looking Buffy. Or more specifically, the weapon in her hands. “A crossbow! I know how to shoot one of those!”
Oh yeah, definitely a robot.
Despite herself, Buffy was working her way up to an impressive level of indignation. She might not be full of love but right now she was full of vinegar because SPIKE HAD ORDERED A ROBOT BUFFY. The cretinous vampire, who she had allowed
to live fully-chipped had gone out and freaking mail-ordered himself a custom Slayer. Only with her face. And her bouncy hair. And her…
The Buffy-bot squirmed around unabashedly on Spike’s crotch, a sunny smile on her face and… Spike had ordered that Buffy bits be placed on a Buffy-bot so that HIS bits and HER bits could come together and form one whole…
Buffy was beyond vinegar. She was pissed. Enraged. Furious.
Violated in mind and, well, theoretical body.
She tramped down the small incline, murder on her mind. The Buffy-bot smiled up at her as Spike scrambled to push the robot off of her and stand. Thank all that was holy in every alternate universe her robotic clone was wearing a skirt so everyone
living or dead that was present at the graveyard didn’t get to see just how close Warren had gotten in his copy.
She kept the crossbow leveled at Spike’s chest as he stared at her, eyes bright and hard with the things she hadn’t been ready to hear for what felt like years. That mix of hatred and obsession. Even if she couldn’t feel it right now she knew better than to call it love. He had loved Drusilla, loved her with every fiber of his being. It was what made that duo so seductively dangerous for so long. But this, this thing
that had eclipsed that love, that had eclipsed Drusilla
, that was far more complex than a simple thing like love.
There was lust, the Buffy-bot was a pretty damn good indicator of that. But that was the physical manifestation of the poet within. Of the desperate human obsession with what he couldn’t have. With what she
Buffy would never want William the Bloody, and it made him quake in her passing because of it.
They were silent for a moment in time, both acknowledging that simple fact in a way that was infinitely more definite than ever before. You’re beneath me…
The vampire’s lips parted and she would have hit him, in that instant, if he had said her name, but the moment passed and his eyes hardened and closed as his hands flexed. “You wouldn’t have me. You’d have never had me. And it wouldn’t do. I couldn’t stand it any longer.”
The words, those unsuitable words were spat at her feet, a jumble of syllables that should have made sense but didn’t. I'm sorry, but I have to tell you that your mother is dead.
And she felt the hysterical laughter, rising like bile in her throat as tears blurred her vision.
Buffy wasn’t aware of dropping the crossbow, or breaching that impossible distance between her and Spike, or of her fists, as she pummeled his chest, screaming incoherently at the unfairness of a world that would take and take and take, until her mother lied dead in a grave but allowed two of her to be made in every conceivable way… two lives, two Slayers- Kendra and Faith, and now this mechanical abomination.
She felt strong but gentle hands grab her, try to pull her away from the stupid, hateful vampire, heard the Buffy-bot’s squawks of childlike outrage as someone dared to touch her Spike. If she had been there with the intent to slay, the silver-haired stranger wouldn’t have been able to stop her from ripping Spike apart with her bare hands, but she wasn’t here as the Slayer tonight.
Spike had laid her bare emotionally, stripped the numbness away and left her with the pain once again. Try not to disturb the body.
Spike stepped back and wiped his bloody mouth with the back of his hand as he watched her. Watched and weighed and wanted still more. More. More. MORE.
The Buffy-bot had calmed down now that Spike was no longer being actively thrashed and was studying her as well, a slightly tilt to her traitorous head. The robot stepped forward and Buffy flinched before she could help it as fingers that looked so much like her own reach up and touched the end of her ponytail.
Her eyes were guileless, as was her smile, as the robot stroked Buffy’s hair gently, almost sadly. “You should wear your hair down more. We are very pretty that way.”
The lunge was half-hearted but the silver-haired man that had held her arms was ready and the Buffy-bot danced back, out of range, that peculiar empty smile still on her face. Buffy’s god-damned face.
Spike took the robot’s arm and guided it back to his side. He looked embarrassed, but anger still suffused the sharp lines of his cheekbones as he refused to back down.
Buffy felt tired suddenly, and very, very old as she licked her lips and whispered, “I’ll NEVER forgive you for this.”
The vampire simply seemed resigned as he nodded once and slipped down to grab the mechanical girl’s hand. “You don’t need to.”
And then they were gone.
All Daniel knew was that he had absolutely no idea what to think. He couldn’t even imagine what his niece was going through right now. First her mother’s death, now this very apparent emotional betrayal by someone who, if not a friend, was still someone she seemed to know well.
There was also the troubling issue of how exactly there was robotic technology at that level on earth that the government didn’t know about because, last time he checked, that was much more of an alien-level piece of equipment walking around with Buffy’s face. He knew the scientists had made a lot of progress on some very interesting prototypes, but none of them were advanced to that degree yet and even if they were, they certainly weren’t being given out for “personal” reasons.
It certainly wasn’t how he had planned to meet his remaining family. But his time with the Stargate program had emphasized that sometimes the best plans weren’t plans at all. All that really mattered was that his niece, after a glance up at Jack and a sideways look for him, had shouldered off Jack’s restraining hold and was striding hell bent out of the cemetery.
And that she still
had no idea who he was to her and who she might be to him.
Daniel stood, frozen by a moment of indecision, until Jack sauntered over and elbowed him in the ribs, hard. When he shot the older man a dark look Jack merely raised an eyebrow in silent challenge.
Daniel took a deep breath and chased after Buffy who, despite her diminutive statute, seemed to have gained quite the lead on them and was already marching down the sidewalk of the road leading out of the cemetery, muttering under her breath the whole way.
He stood at the entrance of the cemetery, watching her retreating form with a feeling of helplessness. And it may not have been the best time, and certainly wasn’t the best way, but the words welled up from inside of him, desperate and hopeful all at the same time. “Buffy Summers… I’m your uncle.”