Buffybot Behind Bars!

by Keswindhover

PAIRING: None
RATING: PG-13
FEEDBACK: Very welcome, to keswindhover@yahoo.co.uk
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 1 - Buffybot is Misunderstood

Buffybot skipped through the cemetery - she was having a simply lovely time! She bounced up and down lightly on her toes, totally thrilled. Giles had pronounced her weapons training complete, and Willow had sent her out on her own, not only with her trusty stake, Mr Pointy Mark II, but also with a real life lovely shiny curvy sword - and it was wicked sharp!

She drew it in one smooth movement from her shoulder harness and swished it admiringly. It made a faint sussurating sound as it cut through the air.

"Whoosh!" said Buffybot happily, "whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!"

Now, if only a vampire or a demon would show up, she would show those darned creatures of the night that goodness stood triumphant, by golly! She bounced along whistling a happy tune, swishing her sword as she went.

There was the sound of scuffling in the distance, then shots, and a scream. Buffybot ran eagerly towards the disturbance. As she veered around a large crypt, she saw two large and particularly ugly demons, dripping with slime, apparently jumping up and down on something.

"Ow, ow, you lousy bastards!" she heard a familiar voice cry. It was Spike. They were jumping on Spike!

"Ooh," breathed Buffybot, outraged, "they're evil demons all right!"

She raised her sword and ran full tilt, bringing it down at a sloping angle into the first demon's neck. Purple gunk sprayed fiercely outward in a stinking fountain, soaking her cool leather pilot's jacket in an instant.

Another dry cleaning bill, thought Buffybot guiltily, Willow is going to be sooo mad at me! Again!

She wrenched the sword from the demon's neck, and stepped over him as he fell. The second demon looked up and paused with one foot raised over the prone Spike's ribcage, when suddenly there was a chorus of shots and the whole of his front exploded in a spray of purple and red.

Buffybot paused. Most of the gunk had fallen on Spike, who now lay groaning in a slick of bits, and... smaller bits. Buffybot leaned forward, concerned; she hoped Spike was okay!

The night exploded into a stampede of demons - big and small, ugly and kind of cute, all charging in her direction. Well, golly, she thought ruefully, be careful what you wish for, eh?

She gripped her sword more firmly, adjusted her stance, and then set about her as the demons came into range. Soon her sword was a blur of motion and a pile of demon parts grew about her. Buffybot swung again and again and again - hey, here was demon in a cap! That was odd, did demons wear caps? She stopped her blade dead in mid flight. Oops, she'd nearly decapitated a person!

The man had thrown himself back onto the ground to avoid her blade. He was wearing kevlar body armour and that funny little cap on his head, and it had words on it... She spelled it out to herself - P. O. L. I. C. E. Hey! She knew what that meant! He was a policeman. A warrior for good, in the titanic struggle that existed against evil - fighting for truth, justice and the American way! Buffybot smiled blindingly at him as he rose to his feet, brought his nightstick up, and whacked her hard on the side of her head.

"Ow!" Buffybot said, indignantly, "that was rude." She shook her sword admonishingly in the policeman's face. "Now I have a dent!"

"Drop the knife! Now!"

Buffybot turned. Another policeman stood to her right, gun drawn.

The officer turned to his friend with the nightstick, "Are you ok, Sid?"

Sid was gasping, his hands on his knees. He shook his head wordlessly.

"I'm afraid I haven't got a knife," said Buffybot, "but if I did have one," she added helpfully, "I certainly would drop it, because it is every citizen's duty to obey the police and to assist them in any way possible."

The second officer stepped forward "Do not piss us around, kid. We're all kinda short of a sense of humour right now... so drop it, before I drop you."

"Is your sense of humour damaged?" said Buffybot, concerned, "I've had that problem - and I'm afraid the only solution is major reprogramming. I tried just uploading The Great Big Book of Jokes but it didn't really work. She looked briefly sad. "They said my jokes were even lamer than Xander's - and his are pretty lame, believe me." She brightened, "But I still think this one is good - what do you get if you cross a snowball and a shark? Frostbite!"

"Drop. The big knife. You have in your hand." The officer spoke through clenched teeth - why did he always get the dope heads?

"Oh!" Buffybot glanced at her sword. "This isn't a knife, not even a big knife," she said kindly. "It's a sword - and it's wicked sharp, I can tell you. I can slice a demon in half with it, like this!" She drew the sword through the air, splitting an imaginary demon neatly into two vertical sections.

"Whoosh!" she said happily.

The two officers flinched despite themselves - this kid really was crazy - perhaps she was on PCP?

Sid had regained his breath, and drawn his own gun. "Ok," he said slowly, "We are going to count to three. And if you haven't dropped the knife," he twitched a little, "or sword if you prefer; we are going to have to add a whole other list of charges to your sheet - and it's going to be pretty long already, believe me."

"My sheet?" said Buffybot, confused. What sheet? she asked herself - she saw no sheet. Was this some really bad joke, like the one about the elephant in the fridge, that she just wasn't getting - the officer had said their humour was impaired. Well, it was always rude not to laugh at a joke, even if it was majorly lame. She should make the effort.

"Ha, ha, ha!" she laughed, pressing her hand to her side. "That's a good one. My ribs are aching now, and I've laughed so hard I may have blown a gasket somewhere!"

"Drop. The. Damn. Sword!" Sid shouted. He was sweating profusely. The pressure of this job was getting to him.

Buffybot bent down and placed the sword carefully on the ground. She stood up grinning. "Were you chasing the demons?" she said interestedly, "because they sure came through in a big crowd!"

"Demons?" said the second officer suspiciously.

"These demons." Buffybot gestured to the pile of corpses and body parts about her. "Well, these and the others that got away."

"Listen to me very carefully," said the officer, speaking slowly and clearly. "There are no demons. Demons don't exist. You're imagining the demons...."

"Demons do exist!" said Buffybot indignantly. "Why, I fight them all the time. Except for the good demons of course," she added as an afterthought. "Like Spike. Oh, hey, Spike - I forgot to see if he was all right." She turned eagerly to the place where Spike's prone body lay. "You can ask Spike about demons," she said, "he can tell you...."

But Spike had disappeared.

Chapter 2 - The Scoobies Are Alarmed

Willow paced up and down the living room nervously - she was getting very worried about Botty. Eleven pm had come and gone; now it was approaching twelve, and there was still no sign. She looked at the phone doubtfully. The other Scoobs had driven Dawn to summer camp this afternoon and were due back soon, so there wasn't any point calling them - but Giles was in.

I should never have given Bottie that sword, Willow thought worriedly - but there were so many nasty things out there, and she was still a bit careless with the crossbow. (Willow rubbed her arm absently as it twinged at the memory.)

Willow hesitated again, then lifted the phone to call Giles. Just as she did so, the door banged open. She turned eagerly, "Bottie..."

But it wasn't Buffybot; it was a purple slime covered, evil-smelling demon. It took a swaying step forward and raised its arms towards her.

Willow screamed.

"Oh, for God's sake," the monster said tiredly, "It's only me, you daft bint."

"Spike? Spike!" said Willow, "Geez, you stink! What on earth happened to you?"

"Have you ever had a F'ungi demon jump up and down on your ribs, and then explode on you?" said Spike.

"No," said Willow. She was positive on that one.

"Yeah, well, try to avoid it. The fun factor is minimal." Spike groaned, and moved toward the sofa.

"No! We'll never get that slime out of the upholstery!" Willow stepped forward and grabbed Spike's arm - then dropped it sharpish. "Eew, this stuff is gross." She looked around helplessly for something to wipe her hand on. "And you're dripping on the carpet. Did you have to come here like this? Couldn't you have taken a dip in the river or something first?"

"Oh well, ta very much for the concern," said Spike. "I may have internal injuries you know... here I am, fighting bleeding demons - purple bleeding demons and all I get from you is `Oh, mind the slime, Spike, don't get it on the furnishings.' Very nice I must say."

Willow pursed her lips. There was a time when this kind if thing would have pressed her guilt buttons at once. She would have been offering scented bath salts and making tea by now. But a few months running a demon fighting operation on the Hellmouth had toughened her up. She looked sharply at Spike.

"Just exactly why are you here, anyway? Is there something you want to tell me about these demons?"

Spike dug his hands in to the pockets of his duster. There was an ugly glurping sound, and he withdrew them dripping in slime. "Well that's just great," he said, "my fags are ruined, and my lighter is swimming in gloop." He glared at Willow. "Why the hell I bother helping you sad gits out, I'll never know."

Willow stepped forward with a little anguished sound as tendrils of

slime slipped from the ends of his fingers onto the carpet. "You could at least stand on a newspaper!"

"Forget the bloody carpet for a minute!" yelled Spike, "I came to say you may have seen the last of your girl toy. She met the F'ungi demons too, then one hell of a lot of other demons - I nearly got trampled to dust!"

Willow went still. "And you just left her there," she accused, "with all those demons around?"

Spike sank onto the sofa, ignoring Willow's protest. "Yeah, I just left her. I am not risking my unlife for a little tin soldier, however brave." He rested his hands on his ribs and groaned. "And if you'd ever managed to program even two bytes of common sense into her she'd have run too. Instead of which she was laying into them all with a sword - and just who was stupid enough to let that daft tin can on legs out of the house with that thing?"

Willow shifted guiltily; it had seemed like a good idea at the time. She lifted the phone to call Giles.

Chapter 3 - Buffybot is Booked

"We have a joker here for you," Sarge, said Sid, leaning heavily on the counter. He placed a plastic evidence bag containing Buffybot's sword, and its harness, on the counter. He sighed - he was tired, and stressed, and if he didn't get this drug addled psycho off his hands soon, he was going to be guilty of police brutality.

Buffybot glowed; she knew he'd like the one about what to do if you saw a space man (park in it, man!) She'd remembered it as they drew into the parking lot and shared it with Sid as they'd walked through the door. He hadn't laughed at the time, but clearly he'd appreciated it!

The sergeant bent forward over his desk. His nose twitched, and he drew back slightly.

"Ah yes, said Sid. He shifted against the counter, and wiped his hands absently on his jacket. "She also appears to have fallen into a stagnant pond, or a sewer or something."

"And what has our stinky little joker been up to?" asked the sergeant.

Sid flipped open his note book. "Suspicion of burglary, possession of a deadly weapon, assault on a peace officer, resisting arrest."

"My, we have been busy tonight, haven't we?" said the sergeant.

"Yes I have! I've been killing demons," said Buffybot brightly. "And I'm sorry I scared you," she said kindly to Sid, "but you just appeared in a crowd of demons and it took me a moment to realise you weren't a servant of evil." She chuckled, "It's a good thing I realised when I did. I nearly cut your head off!"

The sergeant looked at Sid. "My, we really have been busy, I see. Hanging out with demons now, are we Sid?"

Sid sighed again. "Reid and I were in pursuit of a number of suspects in a burglary case (`damn kids,' he said under his breath). They made off through the cemetery, we set off after them - and we'd have caught them too, if this little acid head hadn't got in the way."

The sergeant looked down at the charge sheet on his desk. He tapped the sword on the counter lightly and looked up at Buffybot. "Is this yours?"

"Yes!" said Buffybot eagerly. "Giles gave it to me! It is so-oo cool, and it's wicked sharp! I could cut your arm off and you wouldn't even feel it! At first, anyway," she added honestly.

"I see" said the sergeant. He made a note. "And did you swing it at Officer Kaminsky here?"

Buffy laughed, "Goodness me, no. He just stuck his head in the way!" Buffybot leaned forward confidentially, "he was wearing a little cap that said `Police' on it, but he's taken it off now. It's a pity because he looked real cute in it!"

The sergeant smirked across at Sid, "Gee, Sid, maybe you should put your cap on again. Since it makes you look all cute and all."

"I think he should too!" said Buffybot.

Sid balled his cap in his fists and twisted it. Think of your pension he muttered to himself, think of your pension.

The sergeant held his grin for a moment, then turned back to Buffybot. "Ok, there's plenty here to hold you on, Miss..." He looked back at Sid. "Have we got a name?"

Sid put his crushed cap on the counter and flipped open his notebook. "No ID, but she says she's called Buffy Bott, and she's given me an address."

"Right, Miss Bott," the sergeant said, "You'll be staying in the cells overnight, then you can explain all about those pesky demons to the judge tomorrow."

Buffybot was alarmed. "I'm awfully sorry," she said earnestly, "but I can't stay with you all night. I need to get home to Willow and the others. Can't I come back tomorrow and explain it all to the judge?"

The sergeant looked up. "Is Willow a dependant? You know, like your kid or something? "

"Oh no," said Buffybot, "I'm dependent on Willow. I live with her, and she looks after me, and gives me a fix from time to time."

"Show me your arms," said the sergeant, suddenly businesslike.

Buffybot waved her arms merrily above her head.

"See," said Sid tiredly, "a joker."

The sergeant frowned, "I want to see your bare arms."

Buffybot stopped waving. "Well, ok," she said obligingly. She drew off her leather jacket, and half dried purple gunk cracked off and hit the floor with a splat. The stench was incredible.

The sergeant staggered back with a handkerchief to his nose, and Sid made a little choking sound. Buffybot pulled her sleeves up to mid bicep and gazed down admiringly. "I have very pretty arms," she said, "don't you think?"

The sergeant and Sid looked at each other, no track marks. "Well," said the sergeant, "it's possible you're a psychiatric case. And it's possible you're just a smart ass. The judge can sort it out in the morning." His nose twitched involuntarily again, "Meanwhile we definitely need to put that jacket somewhere airtight."

"Ok," said Buffybot cheerily. She reached out and took hold of her sword, still in its evidence bag on the counter.

"Freeze!" screamed Sid, falling into a crouch as his hand went for his gun.

A deathly hush fell on the charge room. Officers turned, hands on guns. Every eye in the room focused on Buffybot's shiny blonde head.

Buffybot looked around, surprised, "I just thought this bag would do," she said, "for my jacket."

Chapter 4 - Bad News and Good News and Bad News

Willow heard the car draw up outside, and hurried out nervously. Giles was on his way, and Spike was upstairs getting slime all over the bathroom. She was going to have break the news.

"Hey guys!" she brightly, "not too tired I hope?"

Xander clambered stiffly out of the car and groaned as he stretched his back. "Man, I am beat! And there's something weird about the driver's seat - my back is killing me." He turned and looked behind him accusingly, "of course if someone had been able to read a map, we might have been back an hour ago."

Anya stepped out of the other side of the car. "Yes, well, if someone had told their beautiful but long suffering girlfriend that someone's new car had suspension like their granny's old bedstead, someone," she glared at Xander, "that someone meaning me, would never have condemned herself to eight hours in the damn thing."

"I just got new shock absorbers," said Xander, "As I told you, about a million times..."

Anya snorted.

"So!" said Willow brightly "You're a little bit cramped, but nothing coffee and a doughnut won't cure, huh? I have doughnuts... hey, is Tara ok?" Willow peered at the car, concerned.

"She's probably still asleep," said Anya, "she's been asleep for hours. It's really very aggravating for someone to just lie there with their eyes shut when you're talking to them..."

"Yeah, but oh so tempting, when it's you doing the talking," said Xander. He set off up the drive, his hand pressed to the small of his back.

Anya swelled with anger. "Just what exactly is that supposed to mean? Are you calling me boring?" She brushed past Willow and pursued Xander towards the house. "I am polished, and cultured, and droll - I have entertained princes, even whilst torturing them pitilessly." Anya grabbed Xander's arm and turned him to face her. "I have sophisticated conversation coming out of my ass!"

The car sat on the driveway, the engine ticking as it cooled.

"Tara?" said Willow doubtfully, "Are you in there?"

There was a groan from the car. Willow rushed to the door, and flung it open. "Sweetie! Are you ok?" The inside light snapped on, revealing Tara hunched pitifully on the back seat. She managed a wan smile for Willow.

"Hey there, Sweetie, back at ya. I'm ok - or at least it's nothing a long hot bath, or possibly a visit to the chiropractor, can't fix." She swung her legs painfully out of the car. "But remind me never, ever to take a road trip with the Bickerson twins again. I've been pretending to be asleep for the last four hours, and they were still trying to drag me into their dreary argument. Anya is relentless - which fits her old job description, I guess. I'm not a violent woman, but there were times..."

"Poor baby," soothed Willow. She reached out and took Tara's hand.

"Ow!" said Tara as she straightened her back.

"Oh honey, I'll give you a backrub," said Willow.

Tara smiled at her. "Sounds good - now lead me to that bath!" She started to hobble painfully up the drive.

"Ah," said Willow, hovering nervously, "that may be a problem. Spike's up there at the moment..."

Tara sighed, "Oh well, the sofa then - I need to lie down."

"The sofa's a bit slimy," said Willow. "Um, and Buffybot's-missing-and-I-think-she may-have-been-eaten-by-demons."

Tara stopped dead, just as Giles' car careened around the corner and mounted the curb. Xander and Anya turned around, distracted from their argument for a moment.

"Ok," said Willow, "let me explain..."

............

Buffybot stepped up to the payphone and dropped in a dime and a quarter. Willow had always insisted that she carry some change in her pocket, so she could call home if necessary. How smart Willow was!

Buffybot dialled the number, full of excitement - her first phone call!

The atmosphere at the Summers house was tense. The Scoobies were collapsed exhausted in the living room, sipping coffee. Giles meanwhile was touring the neighbourhood in his car, while Spike hung around resentfully dressed in a white fluffy bathrobe, waiting for his washing to finish its cycle. The phone rang, and Willow and jumped up to answer it.

"Hello?"

"Hello, Willow? It's me, Bottie. I'm making a phone call and it's really easy!"

There was a gasp on the other end of the line.

"Bottie? Where are you? What's happened? Are you all right?" Willow grasped the phone tightly, as the other Scoobies gathered around her.

Buffybot smiled, Willow was always so sweet! "I'm absolutely tip top A1, Willow - no scratches or glitches."

Willow gave her fellow Scoobies a delighted thumbs up, then turned to the phone again.

"Where are you? You were due back an hour ago - and Spike said - we were so worried..."

"I've been arrested," said Buffybot brightly, "for assault on a peace officer, with my totally cool sword. Only I didn't assault one - a peace officer I mean. If I had assaulted him he'd be dead." Buffybot laughed heartily.

"You've BEEN ARRESTED?" shouted Willow. Her fellow Scoobies tensed.

"Yes - but it's ok - they've been super-nice and everything. Although..." Buffybot looked around surreptitiously at Sid, who was slumped shapelessly against the wall of the crowded charge room. She lowered her voice. "They've taken away my sword. They say they'll look after it, but I'd be happier if I had it with me in the cell."

"No!" shouted Willow, then looked up apologetically at the concerned faces of her fellow Scoobies. She coughed. "That is, don't worry about the sword. I'm sure it's best to have it locked away somewhere safe."

"It would be locked away somewhere safe in the cell with me," said Buffybot, "I'm going to be locked away somewhere safe myself - Sid said so!"

Willow sighed, she knew she should ask who Sid was, but.... "Well," she said weakly, "it sounds like you're doing ok. Look Bottie, hang on in

there, and we'll work out how to get you out. Meanwhile try," Willow hesitated, "...try to act as human as possible. It's vital that no-one realises you're a robot. "

"I do act human! said Buffybot. "I fight, and I slay!"

"There's a lot you don't do," said Willow, "eating, sleeping, going to the bathroom. You'll have to pretend - beep, beep, beep - oh the phone's - don't worry Bottie, I'll get you out, only maybe not tonight - hang in there..."

The phone cut off and Buffybot looked at it doubtfully. Was it broken? she held it to her ear again and then pressed a few buttons. Nothing happened. Just for a moment Buffybot felt a little sad and lost. One moment Willow was there talking to her on the phone and then she was gone again.... crunch! She looked down at her hand. The phone receiver was dangling in two pieces, and she held a few shards of broken plastic in her palm. Oh dear, she'd squeezed too hard.

She looked up at Sid guiltily. "Um, Sid, I think your phone's broken -

it felt apart in my hand!"

Chapter 5 - the Scoobies attempt to make bail

Willow looked around at her friends, "Bottie's in jail, for assaulting a policeman." She paced around, twisting her hands, "how on earth do we get her out?"

Giles cleared his throat, "Well, first of all, it's important that we don't panic." He paused. "Of course it can only be a matter of time before Buffybot's nature is discovered, and once that happens, the effect can only be disastrous." He whipped off his specs and polished them agitatedly, "disastrous!"

"Oh good, said Xander, "so no sign of panicking there, then."

"Um," said Tara tentatively, "can't we at least try and make bail for her? If we can get her home, then think up something convincing for the judge tomorrow..."

"Well," sighed Giles, "it's worth a try, however pathetically unlikely it is to succeed. I'd better get down there immediately." He looked at the tired, stressed faces of the Scoobies surrounding him. "Willow can come with me - the rest of you need to try and rest."

"Oh my god!" said Willow suddenly. Everyone turned to her. "I just remembered," she said. "What about the social worker?"

"Ah," said Giles, "yes, that's another complication."

.............

Buffybot gazed down interestedly. Did she have fingerprints, she wondered? She wasn't really sure. The policeman pressed her index finger into the ink and rolled it expertly across the page. Ooh! there it was - that rascally Warren might have been a murderous criminal, and a pervert to boot, but it had to be admitted that he stood firmly in a tradition of fine American craftsmanship! Buffybot smiled; she liked to see the good in people.

...............

"Well this is just great!" Spike marched into the room, back in his own clothes, carrying his duster and boots in a drycleaning bag (no shortage of those in the Summers house). His shirt and jeans had shrunk from the extra hot cycle and now clung to him uncomfortably tightly. An inch of rippled white stomach showed between black t-shirt and black jeans, and several inches of bony white ankle gleamed above the fluffy mules on his feet. Spike looked down at himself, disgusted.

"This was my favorite pairs of jeans too." He paused as he took in the grave faces around him. "Well, well - found your tin toy, have you? Scrap metal is she?"

"Buffybot has been arrested, through some misunderstanding or another," said Giles stiffly. "We're about to try and secure her release."

Spike snorted. "Good luck, mate." He tried to sat down on the sofa arm, but found the tightness of his trousers made that too uncomfortable. "She's probably been sectioned by now. She'll be tucked away in some nice comfy padded cell somewhere." He laughed suddenly, "Of course, looking on the bright side, the chances of a loony doctor realising what's actually wrong with her are very small. They'll be putting it down to her mother, or something nasty she saw in the woodshed when she was a nipper."

Giles drew in an exasperated breath, then thought better of it - explaining psychiatric theory would have to wait for another time, tempting though it was to address this nonsense. He pulled his car keys from his pocket and beckoned Willow, and they left, slamming the door behind them.

Spike surreptitiously slipped the button on the waistband of his jeans undone, then flung himself on to the sofa with a martyred sigh.

"And no one's asked me how I am, I notice," he said. "I got trampled by demons, you know. Helping to combat evil and all that." He looked over at Tara. "How about a nice cup of tea, sweetheart? I could certainly do with one."

Tara sighed, she'd been thinking about a bath. "I suppose so, she said, without much enthusiasm. She walked across the room, then stopped by Spike, her nostrils twitching. "You did have a bath, didn't you?" she doubtfully.

Spike straightened up, offended. "Of course, I bloody did. Two baths, actually." He sniffed the air, then leapt to his feet. "Bloody hell!" He twisted around to look at the seat of his jeans. There was an ugly damp patch.

"Oh dear," said Tara, "Willow did say the sofa was a bit slimy."

.........

Buffybot peered around the holding cell with interest. She had a bed without a mattress (good for people with bad backs!), there was a toilet with no seat - and there was a large girl dressed in an improbable combination of a lavender boob tube a size too small for her, and shocking pink skinny capri pants, leaning against the bars of the cell and smoking moodily. (Hey, I can pass the time giving her fashion tips, thought Buffybot brightly - she sure needs them!) Buffybot skipped across the room, sat down on the bed and swung her feet back and forth.

"Hey monkey girl, that's my bed."

Buffybot looked up; who was monkey girl?

The girl sashayed over, and poked Buffybot's shoulder with one blood red claw for emphasis. "So, move your butt, butt head."

Buffybot bounced to her feet - oops. She hadn't realised the bed belonged to someone.

"I don't think I have a butt head," she brightly, "although my hair may have been disarranged a bit - I've been fighting! It was super fun." She bounced up and down a bit as she remembered how much fun it had been.

The girl moved away a couple of steps, and took a rather shaky puff on her cigarette. "Yeah? Who've you been fighting, butt head?"

"Demons, oh and a policeman, but that was an accident. I killed dozens of demons," Buffybot's little chest puffed with pride as she remembered, "and then I nearly cut the policeman's head off."

The girl retreated to the other side of the holding cell, and pressed her shoulders against the bars.

Buffybot sighed, "Anyway they got all upset and now they've arrested me. But it's not a problem, I've used my precious Constitutional right to one phone call, and Willow is going to get me out. Only not tonight. Tonight I get to stay here, with you!" Buffybot gave her companion a happy smile. "I'm sure we're going to be great friends!"

...............

Giles and Willow walked into the charge room and looked around nervously. Apart from a few sad figures slumped on benches, the room was eerily empty.

Giles marched up to the sergeant's desk and cleared his throat. The sergeant looked up, a `been there, done that' expression stamped firmly on his face.

"Ahem," said Giles, "we're here about Miss Buffy Summers. I believe she's in custody."

The sergeant ran his pen down a list of names in front of him. "No Buffy Summers here, Sir - ah, we've got a Buffy Bott, though. Yeah - I remember her all right. Little blonde kid, happy as Larry - came with a dirty great sword and a jacket that smells like a sewer. Ring any bells?"

"Ah," said Giles, "yes, that would be her."

Willow tugged his arm, "Giles, can we....

The sergeant narrowed his eyes at Giles and pointed accusingly with his pen. "You're Giles, huh? The kid said you gave her that sword. Kinda careless of you wasn't it?"

"Actually," said Giles, "it was Willow who gave her the sword, "rather foolishly in my opinion."

Willow threw a quick glance at the sergeant who was now staring accusingly at her, then scowled at Giles. "Um, this really isn't the time... but it was you who said it was hers," she hissed, "I just gave it to her tonight. It seemed like a good idea at the time, with her being out on her own after dark and all. It was for self defense," she said defiantly, "I don't see what's wrong with that."

"Yeah well, tell it to the judge," said the sergeant, suddenly bored.

"Ah, we were wondering," said Giles, "can we post bail for Miss Sum.. ah, Bott tonight?"

"No, Sir, you can't." The sergeant bulked threateningly over the desk. "That kid assaulted an officer. We don't do night bail for people who attack police officers. We do night bail for happy drunks and assholes who steal traffic cones. Your girl will be having her day in court tomorrow morning, 10am sharp, when bail may be granted if she can convince ol' Dennis she's not a menace."

"Well, I feared as much," said Giles, sighing, "come along Willow."

The sergeant held up his hand. "Nah, wait a minute, I got something for you." Giles and Willow turned back.

"Glad to see the back of it," said the sergeant. He rustled under his counter for a moment then handed Giles a Walmart bag, closed with brown tape.

"What is it?" said Giles doubtfully. He plucked at the tape.

"No! Don't op..." yelled the sergeant.

But he was too late. Giles pulled the tape away with a loud rip, and looked in the bag, while Willow peered over his shoulder. They reeled back.

"Good God, that's vile!" choked Giles. He dropped the bag, which fell to the floor with a faint thud and a sigh of air. Everyone fell back a pace, but it was no good - the whole area was inundated with the stench of decay and something worse.

"Get that damn coat out of here!" shouted the sergeant, clutching his handkerchief to his nose, "or I swear I'm gonna find something to book you for too!"

Chapter 6 - Buffybot in Court

Buffybot tripped eagerly into the courtroom. This was ever so exciting! Willow was coming to take her home, and she had a real live lawyer, called Stanley, who was going to get her off her rap! It was just like `Ally McBeal'. And here was the judge, who looked like a cute little pug dog gnawing on a wasp, dressed in one of those funny black dresses. She waved merrily at him. "Hi, there!"

The bailiff pointed silently to a seat, then waited with arms folded as she sat down. Her attorney nodded to her reassuringly and took a discreet little nip from the whisky miniature concealed in his hand. The prosecutor opened his newspaper, and stretched his feet out.

The judge leant over his bench and looked at her severely, as the clerk read out the charges.

Buffybot listened - gosh, it did sound kinda serious put like that didn't it? Oh, there were Willow, and Giles, and Tara. Wow! She jumped to her feet and waved excitedly. "Hey guys, I'm over here!"

The clerk looked up in mid-flow.

"The prisoner will be silent!" yelled the judge.

Buffybot started to work her way along the seats towards her friends, waving all the while. "It's real sweet of you all to come collect me!"

"The prisoner will sit down!" yelled the judge.

"Um, hey, Buffy, nice to see you too," said Willow nervously, "but I think he means you..."

Buffybot looked behind her at the judge, who was puce with fury. The bailiff was heading rapidly toward her, his hand on his gun.

"Buffyb... Buffy," said Giles quickly, "I really do think you need to return to your seat and, uh, listen to what the judge and the lawyers have to say to you."

"You - sit down, and everyone shut up!" yelled the judge. He pointed a fat finger at Giles, "You included!"

Giles bridled, "I was only suggesting to Buffy that she should sit down, and pay attention to your very import..."

"What part of `shut up' don't you understand, Mr Talky Mouth?" yelled the judge. "Shut up and stay shut up!"

Giles seethed silently to himself. Clearly the fellow was completely unprofessional, abusing his position to throw his puny weight around... He settled down to scribble furiously in the little notebook he carried with him everywhere. He fully intended to lodge a formal complaint, oh yes!

The judge plinked a Pepto Bismol into the glass of water in front of him, and looked around threateningly. "Ok, let me get a few things straight. This is my courtroom. I talk, you listen - unless I ask you a question. Then you answer it, plainly and concisely, and then you listen to me talk some more. Got it everyone?"

Buffybot straightened in her chair. The judge was kinda tetchy, she thought - but he was so teeny, and rosy faced - and perched up there in his black dress, he was really kinda cute! "Got it, your judgeship, and hey, you look real cute up there," she said eagerly.

The judge's face blotched alarmingly. He turned to the clerk. "Just who the hell is this little smart ass?"

"I'm the Buffybot," said Buffybot proudly, "I fight and I slay!" The judge glared at her and made a note on sheet in front of him.

"Buffy!" said Willow, anguished, "Remember what I said on the phone last night!"

Buffybot shifted guiltily. She was trying to act human - she'd burped in the prison van, and made a joke about onions - just like Xander! And she'd been to the bathroom, and hung around in there until someone banged on the door - just like Dawn! But here, in the heat of the moment...

"Ah," said Giles, "perhaps what Buffy meant to say -"

"I've already told you to can it, Captain Peacock," said the judge menacingly.

Willow laid a hand on Giles' arm, then turned to the judge, "Buffy is sweet but a little simple," she began, "I'm sure she didn't mean.."

"You, yes, YOU - with the carroty hair and the ugly peasant blouse," yelled the judge, "SHUT YOUR TRAP!"

Willow sat back, her face burning. Tara bought me this blouse, she thought to herself, and it's lovely! She glared at the judge.

Tara saw her girlfriend's neck turn bright red. She leant forward. "Don't mind him, sweetie," she said quietly, shifting forward in her seat and rubbing Willow's shoulders comfortingly, "he's just a big show-offy bully."

"And the Renaissance Fair refugee can shut up as well!" yelled the judge. "Everyone. Just. Shut. Up."

A offended silence fell across the courtroom. Stanley the lawyer shifted in his seat. Dennis the Menace was in particularly fine form today, he thought. There was a sweepstake down at the public defenders' office on when he was finally going to have an aneurysm in court. Stanley felt the odds were shortening fast.

"Better," said the judge after glaring about the court for a moment or two. He turned to Buffybot, and tapped his pen on the paper in front of him. "So, your name is Buffy Bott, and you've been assaulting policemen, is that right?" Stanley stirred in his seat; he really ought to object to that...

"I object!" he said boldly.

"Shut up!" screamed the judge.

Giles scribbled some more in his notebook.

"Stanley is my lawyer," said Buffybot brightly, she leaned over towards Giles. "He has conjunctivitis, so he can't wear his contact lenses! Otherwise he would have read my case file. He said so!"

"Hmm," said Giles disapprovingly, and made another note.

"Anyway," said Buffybot sunnily, "I didn't assault anyone. The policeman just got his head in the way and," she looked proudly across at Willow, "my name is Buffybot Summers. Not just Buffybot - that would be silly, and not human at all!"

Willow groaned slightly, and Tara patted her consolingly on the back.

"Buffy Bott Summers?" said the judge, confused. He amended the note in front of him.

"Um, Bott is just her middle name," said Giles, "it's a family tradition..."

"No it isn't," said Buffybot brightly, "I think you must be getting confused, Giles. Perhaps you drank too much whisky last night?" She grinned confidently at Willow. "My middle name is Anne, with an `e'! That's a very human name."

Willow smiled feebly at her. Buffybot straightened up proudly - she was getting the hang of this cross examination business!

"And what sort of a name is Buffy?" said the judge. "I don't believe Buffy is a real name." He looked accusingly at them all. There was a silence.

"Oh come on," said the judge impatiently, "you were all butting in a minute ago." He looked around him. "Anyone can answer..."

"It's a - it's short for Elizabeth," said Giles. Willow coughed, and shook her head slightly. He looked across at her, disconcerted. "Er, possibly," he said, fiddling nervously with his glasses. "That is, it ought to be short for Elizabeth, but possibly it isn't. Or possibly it is..." He wound down.

"Oh that's much clearer," said the judge sarcastically, "so she's called Elizabeth or Buffy, her middle name is Anne, and her surname is Bott or Summers. Yes, that's perfectly clear."

"Bott-Summers," said Giles. Then he sighed - oh what was the point? He wasn't even convincing himself. He sank down to the bench, banging his fist lightly against his temple.

Buffybot gazed around with great interest. Who could have imagined that she might have so many names? They hadn't even mentioned Bottie.... Ooh! She jumped to her feet again.

"Sit down!" shouted the judge. "How many times do I have to tell you to SIT DOWN! Sit down, and stay there. Do not speak unless you are spoken to. What part of that do you not understand?"

Buffybot bounced up and down on her toes. "I understand all of it!" she said happily. "But I have another name, too, and I just thought you might want to write it on your piece of pap..."

"That's it!" screamed the judge. "I am holding you in contempt of this court. You can spend the weekend in Sunnydale Women's Penitentiary thinking it over, and then I expect to see you in this court on Monday with a drastically adjusted attitude. Is that clear?"

"Your Honour!" cried Giles, "this is a travesty! There is absolutely no basis for the charges Miss Bott-Summers is facing." He jumped to his feet and advanced menacingly on Stanley. "Why the hell aren't you doing your job?" he yelled, "you incompetent hack!"

The prosecutor looked up briefly from his newspaper, then returned to the sports pages - clearly the shouty guy was going to be intercepted before he made it.

The judge signalled to the bailiff, who stepped up and frog marched Giles away with practiced ease. He threw out outraged relatives from Dennis the Menace's court on a daily basis.

Buffybot knotted her brow, "I need to go home with Willow and Tara and Giles. I have patrolling to do, and I really need to recharge my batteries."

"You can recharge your batteries in prison," said the judge grimly.

"Well," said Buffybot. "That's very nice of you. But really I'd prefer.."

"SHUT. UP. Miss Bott, and SIT. DOWN."

Buffybot sat down unhappily, and looked across appealingly at Willow and Tara.

"P-please your honor," said Tara nervously, "Can't you grant bail? Buffy really needs to come home. She's kinda... Special Needs, and we look after her you see..." She looked across at Buffybot and held up crossed fingers.

"Special Needs?" said the judge, looking at Buffybot, consideringly.

"Yeah," said Tara, "it's like an emotional deficiency that makes her say odd things. It has a proper name, which will come to me in a moment..."

"Any time soon?" said the judge.

Tara's eyes crossed as she tried desperately to remember.

The judge drummed his fingers impatiently on the table. The sleeves of his robe had ridden up his arms due to all the emphatic pointing he'd been doing, and he straightened them absently as he waited.

Buffybot squirmed in her chair, desperately resisting the urge to jump up again. "Hey, your Judgeness," she said brightly, "that's a really cute dress you have on, just like Judge Judy's. She totally cool...."

"...Asperger's syndrome," shouted Tara, "that's it!"

"Syndromes be damned!" screamed the judge, his face deep purple, "take her away!"

Chapter 7 - The Scoobies in Turmoil

Xander paced up and down, while Anya lounged with her feet on the coffee table, reading "A New Girl at St Claire's", an open packet of chocolate digestives beside her.

Giles and the girls had been an awfully long time - and how long did an court hearing take anyway? Surprisingly, in spite of the many, many illegal acts they'd committed in the cause of fighting evil, none of the Scoobies had ever made it as far as a courtroom. Well, they had their first representative there now.

Giles' car drew up with a screech and Xander hurried out. One glance told him that things hadn't gone well. Giles slammed the car door violently and strode up the path, two bright spots burning in his cheeks.

"How?..." began Xander, but Giles stopped him with a outstretched palm.

"Not now, Xander," he said, "I have phone calls to make and letters to write! Ask Willow." He stomped into the house, and his voice echoed back, "Anya! Feet off the furniture please. Were you raised in a barn?"

Anya came out to join Xander, a frown on her face. "So what if I was raised in a barn? Lots of perfectly respectable people were raised in barns in my day."

Willow and Tara were trudging up the path. "If only she hadn't made the crack about the dress," said Willow, "I think you'd have persuaded him otherwise, honey. In spite of Giles getting all temperamental."

"He's still temperamental now," said Anya disapprovingly, "he just made a crack about barns which I personally found most offensive."

Everyone looked at her for a moment. She folded her arms. "What?" she said, "I'm not allowed to have ethnic sensitivities?"

Tara blinked and looked back to Willow. "Well, he was provoked, to be fair," she said, "but still, I didn't think he was the kind of guy to make a scene in court and get carried out and all..."

"Giles was carried out of court?" said Xander, interested. "Literally?"

"Well, more put in an arm lock and then frog marched out," said Tara.

"Yelling all the way," said Willow.

"Calling everyone `bloody fascists'" said Tara.

"Ok," said Anya, "and after our ethnically insensitive British friend made a spectacle of himself, what happened to little Miss Sunshine?"

Tara folded her arms and sighed, "She's been remanded in custody until Monday. And I really can't see how someone can fail to notice just how weird she is between now and then."

"Well," said Willow, "I think they kinda expect weird in the prison system. But her batteries will only last 72 hours - less if she's been exerting herself." She counted backwards mentally, "I charged her right up on Friday afternoon before she went patrolling, but she's going to be red lining it by Monday."

"Can't you spell girls just transport her out?" said Xander.

"We probably could transport her..." said Willow.

"But it wouldn't be safe," said Tara firmly.

Willow looked wistful. "No, I'm not entirely sure it would work - we could end up just transporting her insides to her outsides or something."

"You see," said Tara earnestly, "spells involving Buffybot are rather difficult; she isn't a creature of the elements. In fact she isn't really a creature at all."

"She's a glorified kitchen appliance," said Anya impatiently.

"Well," said Xander, " I wonder what our Brave Little Toaster is doing now?"

............

Buffybot gazed around her as she stepped out of the prison van, and through the door into the prison reception. When the judge had said she had to go to prison, it had been a shock, she had to admit - but still it was only for the weekend and they'd said she could recharge her batteries. Luckily, her recent reading had prepared her for this very event. She remembered how, in `A New Girl at St Catherine's', Simone, the sensitive French girl had said so dramatically, "theese school ees like a preeson - `ow I long to return to my beloved famille."

Simone had settled in at St Catherine's of course (proving to be surprisingly good at hockey) after Monica the stern head girl had told her to just buckle down and jolly well make the best of it. Buffybot was determined to do the same here at Sunnydale Women's Penitentiary. She strode forward, determined to do her very best to fit in.

Chapter 8 - Buffybot in Stir

The Scoobies hung around the house, kicking their heels. Giles was off at the Town Hall, demanding to see the Mayor. Tara had filled him in on the remainder of events in the courtroom following his own abrupt exit, and he had an idea.

"Well, maybe she won't have it so bad," said Willow.

Tara shivered, "Oh, prison's bad all right. Sadistic warders and fellow prisoners preying on you, and things going on in the showers, and riots, and all sorts."

"In Sunnydale Women's Penitentiary?" said Willow doubtfully.

"Anywhere," said Tara soberly. "Women's prisons stink."

Willow frowned; she wondered if Tara had ever been...

"Oh no, no. I don't know first hand," said Tara. "But there's movies about it." Her eyes shifted guiltily to the battered packing box in the corner, containing the last of her stuff.

"OMG," said Xander excitedly, you haven't got "Women in Prison" have you?

Tara flushed. "Yeah, I bought it thinking, you know....."

"Naked girls, communal showers," said Xander reverently.

Tara coughed.

"Tara," said Willow teasingly, "have you been buying soft porn?"

Tara blushed bright red, "No!" she shouted, "It is not soft porn! It's an exploitation flick - that's totally different." She shifted, shamefaced, "anyway, I didn't like it. Everyone was so mean..."

They looked at each other. "Perhaps we should watch it," said Xander, "just so we know what Buffybot might be getting into."

"Well, we haven't got anything better to do until Giles gets back." said Anya. "I'll get the popcorn."

..............

Buffybot tagged along behind Miss Bozell, the Corrections Officer, newly kitted out in blue denim and with a prison issue towel and toiletries tucked under her arm. They stopped at an open door. "Right, Buffy," said Miss Bozell, "these are your cell mates. The short petty criminal on your left is Sal and the tall petty criminal on your right is Trixie. She scowled at them. "Don't trust either of them an inch," she said darkly to Buffybot, "although, they're going to have to explain the prison routine to you - because frankly I can't be bothered." She turned on her heel and swept away, leaving Buffybot facing her two new companions.

As Miss Bozell moved down the corridor Sal crossed her eyes and stuck out her tongue at her retreating back, and Trixie made a rude gesture. Buffybot giggled guiltily; gosh, she could see she'd fallen in with a rough crowd! Sal was small and round and shiny brown all over. Trixie was lanky and yellowish, with a shock of green hair, like a stick of celery left a little too long in the fridge.

"Hey," said Buffybot brightly to Sal, "you have no hair!" She turned to Trixie, "and you have green hair!"

"Well, aren't you observant," said Trixie.

Buffybot smiled happily. "Yes, I am observant! Super-observant, and super-vigilant too! Evil things cannot stand against me!" She lowered her voice, "but you were real brave to make faces at Miss Bozell like that - I think she's mean!"

"Well, I resent being called a petty criminal," said Trixie.

"And I resent being called short," said Sal.

"You are kinda short," said Buffybot, "though not as short as me!" she added happily.

Sal grinned at her. "I can see you're the well adjusted type, Buffy."

Buffybot nodded. "Willow has adjusted me very well. She's very brainy!"

"Who's Willow?" said Trixie.

"Ooh!" Buffybot was thrilled, she loved talking about Willow! "Willow's my best friend. I live with her - and Tara and Dawn - and she looks after me. And she services me regularly."

Trixie nudged Sal. "So Willow's your girlfriend, huh?"

"No, no." Buffybot laughed indulgently, "Tara is her girlfriend. Tara's super nice. They do spells together."

"Spells?" said Sal inquisitively.

"Yes!" said Buffybot, "they're witches. White witches, of course," she said reassuringly, "they hardly ever kill things."

"Wiccans, huh?" said Trixie. She grinned at Sal, who cocked an eyebrow. "All with the worshipping the Goddess, and the naked chanting on the full moon, and shit?"

Buffybot considered; she hadn't actually seen Tara and Willow chanting naked, but it sounded Wiccan and all. "Maybe," she said cautiously. "But mainly I think they get naked to have sex. And to have showers," she added brightly.

"Nice to know they're up on personal hygiene," said Trixie. She pushed away from the wall she was leaning against and crossed the small space to where Buffybot stood. "You get the bottom bunk - I hope you don't snore?"

"I don't think so," said Buffybot dubiously. "I just close my eyes and lie very still." She moved across to the empty bunk and looked at the bare wall surrounding it. She bent down and peeked under the bunk, watched bemusedly by Trixie and Sal, then straightened up again with a little bounce. "Where's the socket?"

Sal tilted her head. "No sockets, Buffy. Just in case someone tries to electrocute themselves, or burn the place down. We have a light switch and that's it." She smiled, "what were you going to plug in anyway? Got a set of curling tongs hiding under that towel?"

Buffybot shook her head, "no, I don't need curling tongs - my hair's naturally curly! And very pretty! I was going to put my finger in the socket. It's not very efficient but I think I could get some kinda charge..."

Trixie stopped smiling, "hey, you don't have to do anything extreme, Buffy. You can stick it out, kid."

"Well, said Buffybot doubtfully, "I don't know... maybe I could."

"Sure you can," said Sal bracingly, "it's not so bad, once you get used to the cabbage smell."

"Well, ok," said Buffybot, arranging her towel and toiletries neatly on the bunk. "But the judge said I could recharge my batteries. He should have checked before he said that."

.........

The credits of "Women in Prison" were rolling. Tara was off in the kitchen, calming her nerves by baking lemon meringue pie, but Xander, Anya and Willow were sitting in a row on the sofa.

"Well, I'm sure real women's prisons aren't like that," said Willow, twisting a tissue nervously in her hands. "I mean, all the sadism, and the nakedness and the bloody rioting..."

"They're probably worse, said Xander, stuffing another Nacho into his mouth, "there must be stuff they couldn't show. Have you seen Oz? That's a guy's prison, but still."

"What would actually happen if someone gave Buffybot a rectal examination?" said Anya interestedly. She tossed a piece of popcorn up into the air and caught it neatly.

"I don't know," said Willow, "but if they tried anything like what happened in the shower scene, well - someone could get electrocuted."

Chapter 9 - Buffybot Makes Some New Friends

Buffybot sat with Trixie and Sal at a long dining table in the prison refectory. It was ever so exciting! She'd lined up at a counter and they'd given her food - and a mug of coffee! Dawn wasn't allowed to drink coffee - but she could! Plus she'd never seen so many people in one place before, and they were all wearing the same shirt. Buffybot laughed to herself - it was a good thing they weren't all going to a party together! She took a big gulp of the coffee, and then spluttered helplessly. Sal banged her on the back.

"It helps to swallow when you're drinking, Buffy." Trixie handed Buffybot a pile of paper napkins to clean up the spillage. "Actually, Buffy's a kinda funny name - I haven't heard it before."

"Trixie's a funny name too," said Buffybot as she wiped up the mess. "I only know one other Trixie, and she's a toy poodle."

Sal choked on her coffee. Trixie picked up another pile of napkins and handed them over.

"She lives with Mrs Bercoswki down the street from me," Buffybot continued; "she's really cute - she has a pink ribbon, and a tartan ribbon, and sometimes Mrs Bercoswki dyes her hair pink for shows and stuff..."

Sal glanced across at Trixie. "Does Mrs Bercowski ever dye her Trixie's hair green?"

Buffybot considered. "I don't think so... although maybe on St Patrick's Day she would. She's one sixteenth Irish - she told me!"

"Trixie?"

"Oh no, Mrs Bercowski," said Buffybot. "I think poodles are French."

"Know any dogs called Sal, Buffy?" said Trixie. "Apart from this one?"

Sal grabbed Trixie by the neck and they fell to the floor.

Buffy looked on benignly as Sal attempted to bang Trixie's head against the table leg. So this was horseplay! She'd wondered exactly what that was. Maybe we can sneak out of our cells later and have a midnight feast? she thought wistfully.

...........

Meanwhile, the Summers household was awash with nervous people. Mr Ormsbach, Dawn's social worker, was coming to see Buffy on Monday afternoon to discuss Dawn's care - and it was beginning to look as though she wouldn't be there to greet him.

Willow had been trying desperately to program sensible replies for Buffybot to use in the interview - she wasn't entirely sure how successful she'd been, but things were now much, much worse. If Mr Ormsbach heard even a whisper that Buffy had been arrested, Dawn was going to be in foster care. He'd interviewed Dawn the previous week, with Willow playing chaperone, but this was the crunch meeting.

Giles slammed through the door, and sank into an armchair.

"Well," he said bitterly, "that was a waste of my time. The Mayor is apparently shark fishing off the Coast - I would have thought he met enough sharks during the week. The Deputy Mayor is fundraising, by playing golf, and cannot be disturbed. The Mayor's personal office is closed for fumigation - apparently they have a lingering spider problem." He drew himself up wearily. "Never mind, I'll try the District Attorney's office next. Somebody in this benighted town must work on a Saturday."

"Are you getting anywhere at all?" said Tara anxiously, "because we've been doing some sums about how long Bottie's batteries will last, and it doesn't look good."

"If I can only get to speak to someone," Giles said, "I fancy the wheels will be set in motion pretty quickly." He tapped the folder under his arm significantly, The Americans With Disabilities Act, he said - that will terrify the lot of 'em - ha!" He picked up the phone with a determined air.

The Scoobies stood in a little knot, watching him.

"We can't wait for Giles to go the official route," whispered Willow, agitated. "Bottie's batteries will be running down right now as we speak. Soon our little Energiser Bunny will not be banging her drum anymore!"

Anya shuddered, her mind taking her to a very scary place.

"It's hard to see how she can last until Monday," said Tara doubtfully. "She must have used up a lot of energy with that sword play, and if she's under stress now...."

Everyone's mind turned to the shower scene, and they flinched in unison.

"Poor Buffybot!" said Tara. "We have to help her. She's so sweet, she won't understand if they're mean to her."

"Right," said Xander decisively, "we're gonna have to break her out - it's the only way. Willow can build her a new head, or a new face or, or something, and the cops will never know it's her. This Mr Ormsbach guy's never met her so he won't know the difference."

"I suppose it's possible," said Willow dubiously, "but you know, I've never actually built a robot head."

"Hey, so what?" said Xander bracingly, "you're Will the uber geek. Computers quail before you..." He bowed to Willow. "All Hail, Queen of the Geek People!"

"Hm," said Willow. "I am good at stuff, it's true...."

"Yeah," said Xander. "After all if Warren could do it, I'm sure you could." He left that one dangling for a while, looking hopefully at his friend. "Ah, come on, Will," he wheedled, "you don't even have to build a complete new head, just a new face. How hard can it be?"

Tara sent him a very sharp look; she could see Willow was getting hooked. "I'm thinking way hard, Xander," she said. She drew a deep breath, "but I agree we need to get Buffybot out. Who knows what terrible things might be happening to her?"

Chapter 10 - Plotting in Progress

Buffybot looked down at her tray. There was a lump of chicken covered in gravy, a dollop of mashed potato and a runny mound of carrots each sitting in their own little dimple in her tray. Well, she knew about eating of course. She'd seen the others do it lots of times. You cut things up with your knife and shovelled them into your mouth with your fork, and chewed them with your teeth, and swallowed. She glanced sideways at Sal and Trixie, who were working steadily if unenthusiastically through the contents of their plates. Well, nothing ventured.... Buffybot speared some carrots on to her fork, put them in her mouth, chewed briefly and then swallowed. Hey, this eating thing was easy!

...............

Giles had had it.

He had been on the phone to the District Attorney's Office for 30 minutes so far. He had listened to perky recorded messages and pressed button 1, 2 or 3. He had been told information he already knew and been offered information he didn't want. He had listened to crappy music interrupted by three different messages in three different voices recurring in an endless loop, all assuring him that his call was important to them ("so why don't you answer it, you stupid people," he muttered savagely to himself). Just to add to the fun there was a perky message inviting him to check out the District's website - which was where he had got the enquiry number in the first place.

Just for a while he had thought he might be getting somewhere. A little adventure with the key pad had projected him into the Spanish menu ("Bienvenida a las oficinas de la ciudad de Sunnydale."), but within moments things had become very familiar ("No es posible procesar su pedido en este momento."). He could feel his ulcer was developing nicely. And to think my taxes paid for this, he thought bitterly. I was robbed. ................

The Scoobies were gathered in a circle around Willow's computer, looking at the helpful map of Sunnydale Women's Penitentiary posted on its official website. ("Welcome To The Sunnydale Women's Penitentiary Experience! Take A Virtual Tour of our Facility, and See the List of Activities Available to Inmates.")

"Hey, cool," said Willow, "where to start? The sports complex or the `edicational' opportunities? Hmm, I guess they mean `educational'."

She was clicking through the options at top speed, "You can do Vocational or Academic, or both. High School diploma, Computer Technology, Costume Design, Spanish, Cosmetology, English as a foreign language, Graphic Arts, Macrame - what's macrame? And Tatting - what on earth is tatting?"

"I think it's like knitting," said Tara, "only hole-ier."

"Hey!" said Willow, "they do automobile maintenance and the Beat poets as a joint diploma - cool!"

"Never mind that," said Xander impatiently. He grabbed the mouse. "Let's look at the sports stuff - are there pictures of the swim team?"

"Amazingly, they don't appear to have a swimming pool," said Willow. "But look," she said, interested, "the Sunnydale Women's Penitentiary baseball team is the inter-Penitentiary State champion team for the third year in a row; even though it's the smallest women's penitentiary in California. Go Sunnydale!" She read on. "And hey, the whole team is made up of long-term prisoners! I wonder if there's a connection between being good at baseball and violent criminal tendencies?"

"I wonder if they have any demons on the team?" said Xander, "I'm thinking that would explain a lot." He clicked on a team photograph. "Wow," he said, "they're a well developed bunch. Do they have cheerleaders, I wonder?"

Anya hit him on the arm. "Try and drag your mind way from sex, Xander," she said. "We need to find a way to Buffybot. Try clicking on something useful - like," she paused, "like underground drains, or, or gaps in the fence or something."

Xander rubbed his arm, and then tilted his head at her, "Gaps in the fence?" he said, "I kinda think someone might've noticed any gaps in the fence." He took on a rather smug expression.

There was long uncomfortable silence. "It's possible they haven't," said Anya dangerously, "isn't it?" Xander opened his mouth to speak.

"Well, anything's possible," said Tara hurriedly. "But how about the laundry service? In the movies they're always getting in and out of prisons in laundry vans."

Willow took the mouse back from Xander, and made a quick search. "Huh. Unfortunately, Sunnydale Women's Penitentiary has its own, state of the art, laundry - sponsored by the local bank, which is kinda ironic. But you know, what we need to do is to get Buffybot herself to break out. She could tear a hole in a fence, no problem. And even if it's electrified, most of her is insulated pretty well, anyway." Willow rubbed her chin pensively, then looked back at the screen. "All we need to do is tell her to leave, and have a getaway car there when she does."

"Just leave that part to me and Anya," said Xander, his eyes gleaming.

"A jailbreak! Cool!" said Anya excitedly, "Count me in!"

"Let's just check how Giles is doing first," said Tara, "You never know."

They entered the living room to find Giles still sat as they had left him an hour before, the phone clamped against his ear. A cup of tea Tara had made him sat cold on the table, two of his favourite chocolate digestives untasted beside it. The only sounds in the room were the faint, tinny sound of Dvorak being played on a marimba coming from the phone's mouthpiece, and a steady grinding noise as Giles wore down his molars.

"No luck?" said Willow.

Giles raised a sardonic eyebrow. "Well, the phone menu is on Cambodian now," he said, "but otherwise no."

"Dumb question," said Willow. The Scoobies trailed miserably towards the door.

"Wait!" Giles cried. Everyone looked back eagerly.

Giles paused for a moment, then sighed, "No, no - false alarm. They just broke off one piece of music in the middle and started another for no apparent reason." He cocked his head. "Possibly that's Ravel," he said, "although it's hard to tell when it's played on a Glockenspiel." He bowed over the phone receiver again. "Ah," he said, "we've moved to Cantonese now - luckily I'm fairly up on that."

"Right!" said Xander decisively, as soon as they were out of earshot. "Plan B, or Plan X as I like to call it."

"Plan X?" said Willow.

"For Plan Xander," he said smugly. He set off back to the computer.

Anya rolled her eyes briefly, and followed.

"But how do we tell Bottie to leave?" said Tara doubtfully to Willow. "Can we phone her? I'm thinking the phones have to be monitored?"

"Not the phone in her head," said Willow proudly. "I patched your old cell phone in - or the receiver anyway - last week, when you got your new one."

"I was looking for that all over!" said Tara, "I had plans for it. I do wish you'd ask before you do these things, Willow!" She looked accusingly at her girlfriend.

"It was in a good cause," said Willow defensively. She put her hand on Tara's arm. "I was hoping maybe we could talk to her when she was out on patrol; you know, keep in contact. That way we wouldn't need to actually be there all the time."

"An excellent plan," said Anya, turning back towards them, "except for the fact that the first time you did send her out on her own, little robo-girl got arrested." Willow frowned; everyone was acting like all this was her fault, somehow. Which was totally untrue.

"Poor, poor Bottie," said Tara sadly.

Chapter 11 - Plan X Takes Shape

Buffybot scraped her spoon around her pudding plate enthusiastically to catch the last drops of chocolate custard. She put the spoon in her mouth and sucked noisily.

"Well, well," said Trixie. "Someone who likes prison food!"

Buffybot grinned at her, a big chocolatey smile painted around her lips, "this is fun!" she said happily.

Trixie looked down at Buffybot's shirt, which was liberally splattered with gravy and custard. "Perhaps you ought to tuck your napkin into your shirt next time?" she said, "you seem to be a kinda messy eater."

"Oh, I just need more practice," said Buffybot, "Can I have more pudding?" She looked around hopefully.

"That's it `til dinner I'm afraid," said Trixie. Buffybot's face fell.

"Here," said Sal, pushing her plate across. "You can have mine - I'm not a big fan of the Sunnydale Women's Penitentiary Chocolate Surprise. Especially not after I worked in the kitchens, and saw what the surprise was."

"Ooh, thank you, Sal!" said Buffybot, and she dug in.

Trixie and Sal watched Buffybot happily inhaling chocolate custard. Trixie looked across at Sal, "I always thought you quite liked chocolate pudding, Sal? Sunnydale Women's Penitentiary Surprise and all."

Sal shrugged, a little sheepishly. "The kid likes eating..."

"Yeah, said Trixie pointedly, "and maybe you're wondering what else she likes eating, hmm?"

"A girl can always wonder," said Sal, "but I'm not playing any cards here - for one thing, she's a sweetie, but she's not operating with a full deck. She just needs someone to look out for her."

"Well, well," said Trixie after a pause, "you got a caring side. Who'd a thunk?" She laughed suddenly, and punched Sal's arm. "Hey, Thumper - you gonna look after little orphan Bambi, huh?"

Buffybot lifted her dish and licked it out enthusiastically.

Trixie smiled wickedly at Sal and wiggled her tongue. She called across at Buffybot, "Say, honey, did some one drop you on your head when you were a baby?"

Buffybot looked up from her bowl, which was now disappointingly empty. There was a smudge of chocolate custard on her nose.

"No, I was never a baby," she said, and then, oops! she remembered Willow's phoned instructions. "That is, of course I was a baby, but I don't remember it - because I was a baby and babies don't remember things! I read that in a book." Ooh, she thought proudly, I think I saved that one!

................

Xander and Willow had their heads together over the plan of Sunnydale Women's Penitentiary and surrounding area. Tara and Anya perched on the desk beside them. Xander pointed with his extendible light pen at a grid reference in the top left hand corner.

"That's the nearest we can get, without violating the perimeter. Do you think the signal will reach?"

Willow shrugged. "Sure. Theoretically, it should be able to reach from here, but the problem is her other systems tend to interfere with the signal, so I couldn't make it reliable enough. Still, if we sent her a boosted signal directly phone to phone, we might just get through. I'm going to have to make an adaptation to our cell phone."

"Whose cell phone?" said Tara, raising an eyebrow.

Willow looked up and caught Tara's stern eye. "Your cell phone," she

said hurriedly. She tapped her fingers on the desk, her eyes drifting back to the screen. "But I'm just hoping it doesn't jam up any of her other programs - the first time I tried it she started walking around in circles and bouncing off the furniture, singing `You're not the boss of me now, you're not the boss of me now, you're not the boss of me now, and you're not so big' - endlessly, for hours." Willow's face took on a brooding look as she remembered the pain of it.

"Huh," said Xander, distracted from the map for a moment. "Why They Might Be Giants? I'd expect her to like East 17 or some other bullshit boyband thing."

"Warren," said Willow darkly. "I've been trying my witchy utmost to root all the jerk related stuff out of her program, but she still knows all the words to Triangle Man and she still thinks baseball caps worn backwards are cool - he seems to have programed that one in right at the beginning. Of course, she also loves Steps - but that's all her own lousy taste. I've been playing her some cool stuff, but the only one she really likes is Tori Amos going on about cheese and onion sandwiches - I guess that struck a chord with her."

Tara grinned at Anya. "It's kinda cute," she said. "Bottie sings it in the morning when she's packing Dawn's lunch. She's making up her own list of the things that she likes." Anya stared stonily back - anyone who sang pop songs before breakfast was very far from cute in her opinion.

"Ugh! Tori Amos!" said Xander. "Couldn't you program her to like the good stuff?"

"I have enough trouble programing her to talk in complete sentences," said Willow. "I've just pointed her at our CD and book collections, and hoped for the best. Right now she's totally fixated on Tara's girls boarding school stories, and the theme from Star Wars - don't ask me why." She switched back over to the official website, and started flicking aimlessly through the options again.

"I do hope she doesn't start humming the Star Wars theme in there,"

worried Tara. "It does get kinda annoying the third or fourth time through - especially when she's doing all the sound effects - Zip! zap! you know." She waved her arm vaguely.

"Yes I do know," said Anya. "Only too well. Remind me why we're trying to save her again?"

"To keep Dawn out of foster care - oh, and to fight evil." said Xander. "Now, if this is going to work, we'll need to know exactly where she is. It's a mighty big desert out there."

"We do know exactly where she is," said Willow absently, "she has GPS - our gal's never going to get lost in the dark." She was still scrolling back and forth through the official website. "Whoah!" she said suddenly. She pushed back in her seat a little, and looked at the screen sideways. "Look at the baseball team coach, how scary is that? I think we solved the mystery of all that Sunnydale baseball team overachievement." They crowded around the screen. There was a long reverent silence.

"That is not someone I would want to explain my failure to catch a sinking line drive to." said Xander.

"Oh, phooey, said Anya impatiently, "You should've seen some of the demons I've met coaching school games over the years - real demons. It's a popular profession for them. They'd eat her for breakfast, and anyone who hits below .250 for lunch. So, what's GPS?"

"Global Positioning Software," said Xander importantly. "It means we can track Buffybot to the nearest inch." He looked suddenly doubtful, "or at least I think it does, anyway."

"You can if you take the laptop," said Willow. She shut the website reluctantly, and pressed a few more keys. A grid map materialised on the screen, with a little red dot just off centre.

They all looked in silence at the red dot, blinking gently in a sea of white and blue grid lines.

"Poor Buffybot," said Tara, "she looks awfully lonely there."

Chapter 12 - Mrs Danvers and Miss Camermeyer

Buffybot was playing ping pong with Sal. Unfortunately, the ping pong balls were too brittle or something, and they tended to pop as soon as she hit them with the paddle. Buffybot sighed; this game really wasn't much fun. Sal hit the ball to her, ping! She hit the ball back to Sal, phht! And there was a shower of little plastic bits all over the table again. Sal was trying to be nice about it, but Buffybot could tell she was getting annoyed.

"Perhaps we could play another game," she said brightly.

Trixie snorted, and stepped over to dig Sal in the ribs. Sal dug back, hard.

"Maybe we could," said Sal pleasantly, "do you like cards?"

..............

Giles slammed the phone down with uncharacteristic vigour. While it was no doubt valuable in the longer term to have his knowledge of basic Tagalog refreshed, he was getting nowhere in the shorter term. The phone menu had first cycled from Cantonese to Urdu, before branching off to the Philippines when he pressed #9 out of morbid curiosity - but the underlying message (`piss off') was the same in any language.

His eyes narrowed as a thought came to him. If conventional methods didn't work.... He grabbed up the phone and rang a number. "Hello, Peter? Rupert here, Rupert Giles. Fine thanks, fine - yourself? Oh good, good. No, no - nothing like that - although you could perhaps advise me... there's a judge down in the lower court called Dennis Feltzer, Dennis the Menace, yes. I was wondering could you tell me who in the District Attorney's office might - well, might hate him. Hmm, `everyone' is a bit broad... yes... anyone in particular? Yes, someone who could throw a spanner in the works would be perfect. ADA Cindy Camermeyer? He did what to her? Good Lord, I can see she might resent that... yes. And how would I contact Ms Camermeyer. No, I'm afraid it can't wait 'til Monday. No chance at all? Oh, it will get Mr Feltzer in trouble all right. You can? Good, I'll wait to hear."

.............

Sal and Buffy sat at a white plastic table, a pack of greasy cards between them.

"....Whist?" Sal said.

"No," said Buffybot, "will you teach me to play Whist?"

"Love to," said Sal, "right after I've taught you to play Trumps, Poker, Canasta, Blackjack, Gin Rummy, Cribbage, Beggar Your Neighbor and Snap."

"Great!" said Buffybot, "I love learning things!"

"Actually," said Sal, "let's start with Snap, that's a nice simple little game...."

.............

"Miss Camermeyer," said Giles, "it's tremendously good of you to see me at such short notice, and on a Saturday." He was sitting in Miss Camermeyer's office, a cup of English Breakfast tea balanced on his knee.

Miss Camermeyer smiled graciously. She was a neat woman, in her forties, dressed in a severe grey silk two-piece suit, despite supposedly being off-duty for the day. "When I heard what a very serious matter, what a very serious complaint, you had, against one our County circuit judges... this is a serious complaint isn't it?" She emphasized serious with a little hiss.

Giles leant forward in his chair, lifting his tea cup and hitching his trousers as he did so. "Yes, indeed, it is a very serious matter. It involves most improper practice on the part of His Honor Mr Feltzer, which I consider to amount to a miscarriage of justice. He has caused a vulnerable young woman, a young woman with a severe disability, to be exposed to the most dangerous of circumstances in an unclassified prison - in spite of being notified of her condition. I fear the Judge allowed his temper to carry him away."

"Not an improbable circumstance," said Miss Camermeyer. "Sadly. What disability does this young lady have?"

"Asperger's Syndrome, said Giles. "It's recognised in The Americans With Disabilities Act." He tapped the document case propped against his chair significantly. "The judge was entirely in the wrong to despatch her to an unclassified prison; she should be in the State Classification Center for psychological assessment. Both the Attorneys present are negligent not to have pointed this out."

Miss Camermeyer licked her lips. "Tell me, Mr Giles," she said confidingly, "are you so outraged by the County's actions in this case that you are intending to lodge a lawsuit against them very soon?"

"Absolutely," said Giles, "I shall pursue my action against the County, and particularly the judge. Justice demands it. Miss Bott will no doubt demand it, once she is returned to the bosom of her family. I intend to do so first thing Monday morning."

"Aah!" said Miss Camermeyer. "and if I could act before then, to secure the release, or at least the transfer of this poor young woman, might you consider withholding your action against the County?"

"I fear not," said Giles, "although, it might of course dissuade me from extending my lawsuit to include the District Attorney's Office."

"I see." said Miss Camermeyer. She stood, and shook Giles' hand. "Let me make some phone calls, urgently."

"I would be most grateful," said Giles, picking up his document case, "I've made copies of the relvant papers, here," he handed them to Miss Camermeyer. "And I'm very grateful fror your prompt action. Heaven knows what horrors that poor mentally confused girl has had to face already!"

............

Sal flipped over another card.

"Snap!" yelled Buffybot.

Sal breathed in deeply through her nostrils. "Your card is a nine of clubs, Buffy. Mine is a seven of hearts - no Snap. It's only Snap if the cards have the same value."

"I still said it faster than you," said Buffybot, "I'm super fast!" She proudly turned over another card.

"That's not the poin..." Sal looked up as Trixie thundered up the corridor towards them.

"Run!" shouted Trixie, "Miss Danvers is doing an unannounced visit! Hide! Hide!" She bolted towards the cells.

Buffybot looked after her, concerned. She turned to Sal, who was looking nervous but standing her ground. "Who's Miss Danvers?"

Sal shuddered a little. "She's the Recreational Development Captain; and the coach of our champion baseball team - and you do not want her to notice you, believe me. If you see her coming just sit very, very still."

Buffybot peered down the corridor. A knot of warders moved toward them. At their head was a short bosomy woman wearing a hairy tweed suit. She had a shooting stick under her arm, and a monocle screwed firmly into her right eye.

Buffybot sat very still, as instructed. Miss Danvers did look a little scary...

Miss Danvers drew up by the ping pong table. She turned to Miss Bozell beside her. "No matches today, Miss B?"

"We're awaiting a new delivery of ping pong balls." Miss Bozell shot a hostile glance at Buffybot. "We seem to have got through the last batch rather quickly."

"Ah," said Miss Danvers. "Pity we didn't have a larger stock, eh? Still, we live and learn, live and learn, and I'm sure you do your best, Miss B." She patted the warden on the shoulder. Miss Bozell glowered. If there was one thing she hated, it was being called 'Miss B'. Of course, there was a lot more than one thing she hated, and being patted on the shoulder by Miss Danvers was one more of them. She had also developed a new hate just today - teeny, tiny, shiny, blonde-headed ping pong ball vandals.

Miss Danvers approached the card table. Sal sat with her cards clutched nervously in her hands. As Miss Danvers advanced she put a warning finger to her lips, and Buffybot nodded significantly. Miss Danvers stopped beside the card table and looked around her. "Hello, hello ladies how are we all? Everyone having a lovely time?" There were a succession of anxious smiles and nods. Miss Danvers nodded approvingly. "Super, super... carry on." She stepped away and Sal let out a deep breath, one of her cards fluttering from suddenly nerveless fingers onto the table.

"Snap!" yelled Buffybot.

Miss Danvers' head turned. She retraced her steps to the card table. "Oh, we have a new girl." She smiled at Buffybot, displaying a set of impressively large teeth. Buffybot smiled happily back at her.

"I'm playing Snap," she said.

"This is Miss Bott," said Miss Bozell, eying Buffybot with distaste.

"Welcome, welcome!" said Miss Danvers, "I do hope you'll enjoy your stay here. I like to view prison not so much as a punishment as a challenge to you." Miss Danvers banged her shooting stick on the floor for emphasis, and Miss Bozell jumped back skittishly.

"Ooh!" Buffybot's eyes widened, "I love challenges! Challenges are fun!"

"Hah! Good!" said Miss Danvers, "Splendid! Splendid! Splendid! I can see you'll fit in here wonderfully, Miss Bott." She gestured extravagantly with her shooting stick, and everyone standing to her right ducked involuntarily. "Here at Sunnydale Women's Penitentiary we aim to offer our inmates a sense of identity - and security of course - in both senses of the word!" Miss Danvers gave a practised little chuckle, and Buffybot chuckled along appreciatively, "..and above all opportunity."

Buffybot bounced in her chair and gave Miss Danvers her biggest smile. "That all sounds ever so exciting! It's really a pity I have to leave on Monday!" Miss Danvers smiled directly back at her, the eye magnified behind her monocle appearing terrifyingly large.

Miss Bozell stepped forward, careful to keep well clear of the shooting stick. "Miss Bott is currently serving a sentence for contempt of court," she said, managing to inject a world of loathing into the words, "she has another hearing on Monday morning."

"Goodness me!" Miss Danvers' smile left her face abruptly, and she fixed Buffybot with a very hard, if lopsided, stare. "One shouldn't show contempt for the rule of law, Miss Bott. It's the institutions that hold society together. You should remember that."

"Oh, I totally respect the law, and the institutions," said Buffybot eagerly. "I think institutions are lovely!" She flashed a bright, bright smile at Miss Danvers. "Where would we be without courts and prisons, eh? Evil people would roam unchecked - because I'm not allowed to slay them!"

"Ah!" said Miss Danvers a little vaguely, "so true, so true... Well, I hope your Hearing goes well, Miss Bott. And if you can take that positive attitude with you, I'm sure it will." She leant forward and her monocle glinted dramatically in the overhead neon lights. The rough tweed of her jacket brushed Buffybot's arm as she banged her fist dramatically on the table. Sal yelped and dropped the rest of her cards. Buffybot's eyes widened further.

Miss Danvers' left eye, sans monocle, closed in a wink. "So, chin up!" She straightened, adjusted the stick under her arm, and strode down the corridor, bosom first, trailing her entourage behind her.

Sal gathered her cards again with slightly shaky hands and leant back in her chair. "You've made a friend there, Buffy. If there's one thing Miss Danvers loves it's a positive attitude." She laid her hand over her left chest experimentally to check her heart rate. "Of course, five minutes into a pep talk from Miss D and most of us lose the will to live. You must make a nice change for her."

"I think she's great!" said Buffybot. "She's so dynamic! And she has spectacles for only one eye - I never saw that before. How do you think she makes it stay on?"

"I'm guessing she has a very muscular eyebrow," said Sal dryly.

.............

Giles strode along a Los Angeles sidewalk, head held high. There was always a way, if you were just willing to apply yourself to the problem in a sensible and logical way. He had one tame doctor writing up his case notes regarding Buffy Bott-Summers' diagnosis and treatment this very moment, and a second medical appointment in just a few moments. Miss Camermeyer, meanwhile, was cutting through swathes of red tape with a flaming sword of vengeance. Giles nodded in satisfaction; he would be seeing Buffybot tomorrow lunchtime at the very latest. Everything was under control.

.............

Xander and Anya sneaked out to their car under cover of darkness, dressed in camouflage gear and desert boots; laptop and phone concealed in Xander's knapsack. Willow and Tara, peering out of the window into the darkness, saw the dim glow of the car's interior light, abruptly extinguished, then the cough of the engine echoed into the night, the car's headlights sprang dramatically into life, and the car pulled stealthily away.

"Do you think this is going to work?" said Tara, anxiously.

"No idea," said Willow, dropping the curtain back over the window, "but we need to get Bottie back, and soon."

The phone rang, abruptly, in the silent house. Tara jumped, and grabbed Willow's hand. They looked at each other. "Probably Giles," said Tara, and she went toward the phone.

Chapter 13 - Unexpected Consequences

It was nightime in the desert, and it was rapidly growing cold. Bright moonlight shone down on the rolling sand and scrub, casting weird shadows across the ground. Xander and Anya hunched under the sage bush, dressed in camouflage gear and with boot polish smeared on their faces. Sunnydale Women's Penitentiary glowed below them, like a football stadium geared up for a big game, floodlights shining in a myriad directions. Xander pressed the power switch on Tara's now specially boosted cell phone and it glowed with an eerie green luminosity in the darkness.

Xander selected Buffybot and pressed send. A merry little procession of beeps rang out in to the echoing darkness - beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep!

"Aargh!" yelled Xander, and dropped the phone.

Anya scooped it up. "For heaven's sake, dummy," she said indignantly, "didn't it occur to you to turn the sound down before we set off!"

"You turn the sound down," hissed Xander. This last was in a furious whisper. "A deaf naked mole rat could hear you right now!"

"All naked mole rats are deaf, Xander, they don't have ears." said Anya, "we both saw the same dreary program - just last week, remember, when I said no way were we ever hanging out with Tara and Willow again when Survivor was on."

"If they're all deaf, that just means all of them can hear you!" said Xander furiously.

Anya frowned at him, "well that just makes no sense at all," she said. "If they're deaf..."

"Will you please, please just shut up!" hissed Xander.

"..clearly they can't hear me...."

"Please, please shut up!" shouted Xander.

"...and anyway, they live in Africa," said Anya. "They're not going to hear me from there."

Xander buried his heads in his hands briefly, then snatched the phone from Anya. They glared at one another in the glow of the cell phone's display screen. A faint ringing sound made itself heard, and with an exclamation, Xander clamped it to his ear. "It's ringing," he said excitedly.

............

It was 9pm on Saturday night and the inmates of Sunnydale Women's Penitentiary were gathered around the television room in companionable silence, waiting for their weekly fix of Xena: The Warrior Princess. Some of them were there for the exciting, but morally satisfying storylines, some for the semi naked women and the gay subtext; still more for the epic destruction of property and the gratuitous violence. (There were also one or two very sad souls doing the Costume Design course, looking for inspiration.) The room was agog.

Buffybot sat between Trixie and Sal near the back, bouncing up and down in her chair. Xena was a big hit in the Summers household, and she'd seen all the episodes before, but that just made it more fun.

Xena's wild cry rang out through the rec room, as she waved her sword and then thundered across the horizon on her horse. Miss Bozell pursed her lips disapprovingly. She recognised phallic symbolism when she saw it.

"Ooh!" said Buffybot, "I've seen this one five times. Willow really likes this one. Xena has a fight with Ga.."

"Buffy!" said Trixie, "I know it's re-runs, but we haven't seen it, remember? So don't spoil the plot, 'kay?"

"Ok!" said Buffybot, "but there's this one really cool bit where Xena takes all her cl.."

"No!" said Sal firmly. "We love you dearly, Buffy..."

"Yeah," interrupted Trixie, smirking at Sal. "We love you dearly, Buffy!"

Sal glared at her, "But," she said emphatically to Buffybot, "if you try to tell us the plot we're gonna have to strangle you. So shut your piehole, ok?"

Buffybot's eyes went round - she didn't want to be strangled, but she loved talking about Xena. Ooh, this was gonna be hard!

..............

The cell phone continued to ring, and ring. Xander still hunched under the bush, the phone clamped to his ear. Anya sat glumly on the ground regarding the ghostly outline of her desert boots in the moonlight. This mission had sounded so exciting, but it was dull, dull, dull! Finally Xander stood up.

"I'm going to try a little further up the hill," he said. "Maybe being as close as possible isn't the point. Maybe it's line of sight." He trudged away up the slope while Anya amused herself tossing little sage brush twigs into the deep pool of darkness at the base of the bush a foot or so away.

.........

Xena and Gabrielle were arguing about using a scroll as toilet paper. The inmates at Sunnydale Women's Penitentiary rolled in the aisles.

"She wiped her ass on it!" yelled one inmate, "Geez there's some documents I've wanted to wipe my ass on, believe me! My divorce settlement for one!" Laughter swelled around the room.

Miss Bozell frowned. She was beginning to wonder if this program was suitable viewing.

..........

Xander hunkered down beside a scree covered slope, carefully avoiding making a silhouette against the horizon. He pressed `redial'.

Xena stared at her frying pan. She opened her mouth... and the screen broke up into a Picasso-esque rendition of dislocated body parts, all dancing about each other. Her voice was drowned in a sea of angry white noise.

Xander pulled the phone away from his ear and sighed, he wasn't getting anywhere.

..........

"No-o-o!" wailed Sal. "Xena, come back!"

Trixie patted her consolingly on the back. "They'll have it fixed in a minute, hon," she said. "It'll just be one of those goddamned military helicopters going over again, or something."

Sal had grabbed Buffybot's forearm in her anguish. Buffybot leant over and carefully pried Sal's fingers from her arm. "You're liable to damage your fingers doing that." she said kindly, "my arm's very hard."

Sal looked down at her finger tips, which were indeed looking slightly flattened. "Sorry, Buffy," she said. "It's just I'm a big fan. If they don't fix it..."

The inmates were stirring restlessly. Miss Bozell bustled importantly to the front and gave the set a sharp rap. The picture jagged to the right, then back again. The roaring sound got louder.

..........

Xander looked at the phone in his hand, still ringing away. I'll count to a hundred, he told himself.

"Ee-e-e-e!" Suddenly the night was riven by a terrible scream. Xander scrambled to his feet, his heart in his throat - and a hurtling black shape knocked him to the ground. Xander struck out blindly.

"Ow!" shouted Anya, "It's me, you idiot! I'm being chased."

"Where? By what?" said Xander, pushing Anya behind him and peering nervously into the darkness.

"By a snake!" yelled Anya, "An evil, slimy venomous asp!"

Xander relaxed slightly. Anya sucked in her breath and clutched his arm convulsively, surprising a little scream from Xander's throat. "Are the snakes round here venomous?" she said nervously.

"Don't do that," said Xander, peeling Anya's hand from his arm and moving away a pace. He turned to face her in the darkness. "And sure, the snakes are venomous. Highly venomous. Rattlers and stuff. Wait, did it bite you?" Xander shucked off his knapsack hurriedly and drew his Bowie knife. The blade flashed in the moonlight. "Don't worry - I'll save you, I know what to do! I cut the bite in a big `v' with my knife, then I suck the poison out!" He cut a dramatic `v' in the air to demonstrate.

"Are you mad?" yelled Anya. "Do you know how that would scar? Anyway," she calmed slightly, "the snake didn't bite me." She peered nervously into the darkness, "But it could have!" she said, building up steam again. "You mean to say you brought me to a place with venomous snakes in it, in the dark, and you made us sit down, under a bush? Without even mentioning the venomous snakes! Were you trying to kill me? Or are you just lethally stupid!"

"Snakes sleep at night," said Xander, "To conserve heat. I learnt that on my survival course- or maybe it was PBS - anyway, they're really nothing to worry about."

"And where do you think they might sleep, Xander?" said Anya dangerously, "do you think maybe, oh I don't know, under a bush somewhere!" She punched his arm furiously, and stomped off into the gloom back towards the car.

"Anya!" shouted Xander, scooping up his knapsack and hurrying after her. "Wait for me!"

The cell phone lay on the ground several feet away, glowing a sinister green, and still ringing faintly into the darkness.

............

Sunnydale Women's Penitentiary Recreation Room was in uproar. The television picture was now almost entirely gone. Just an occasional flash of green, or a shimmer of black flickered by to suggest the presence of the Warrior Princess or her sidekick. The hissing had risen to a roar. Sal sat, her eyes fixed despairingly on the screen, which had now transformed from a Picasso still life to a angry seascape by Turner.

Other inmates were more militant. They had surrounded Miss Bozell and were demanding action.

Buffybot patted Sal gently on the knee. "Would you like me to tell you what happened next, Sal?" she said. "Xena and Gabrielle took a bath together. It was real funny...."

Sal buried her head in her hands.

.............

Xander pulled up to the Summers house and killed the headlights. He and Anya sat in a tense silence for a moment, then Anya opened the passenger door, stepped out, and slammed it violently behind her.

Tara answered the door to Anya's angry ring. "Well!" said Anya, striding into the hall, "that was a complete and utter waste of my time! Don't come begging to me the next time you want a felony committed. Crime is bo-ring!" She pushed past Tara and into the house.

Xander limped through the door behind her, his hand on the small of his back. "I have got to get that driver's seat replaced," he said.

"No luck?" said Tara anxiously.

Xander dumped his knapsack on the table with a sigh. "Nope," he said, "nothing happened at all."

"Poor Buffybot!" said Tara. "I just hope she's not having things too bad. Still, it may be for the best. Giles thinks he can get her out the legal way by tomorrow afternoon. That's something."

Xander frowned. "Is that going to be early enough?" he said doubtfully.

"Borderline," said Tara, "but still better than Monday."

"How's Will doing with the Head?" said Xander, "not that it matters much now."

"It's work in progress," said Tara evasively. She looked at the knapsack. "Can I have my cell phone back? I think I can take the patch out."

Xander felt in his right trouser pocket, then the left, and then in each of the many, many pockets in his camouflage jacket. "Ah," he said, then opened his knapsack and started frantically going through the contents, while Tara watched with increasing suspicion. Finally, he turned towards her, palms outward. "You see, he said sheepishly, "there was this snake..."

............

Sunnydale Women's Penitentiary recreation room was a very unhappy place. The television's sound had been turned down, but the screen was an abstract colour storm, zigging and zagging in a fashion bound to make the viewer seasick. Most of the inmates had left in disgust, but a few stubborn souls hung on, gazing upwards from time to time, hoping for a breakthrough.

"..and then, Gabrielle said, "All right. I know you let me hit you," and that was the end." said Buffybot triumphantly. "I know all the lines! Because I'm super good at remembering things!"

Sal sat silently, looking at the floor. It was almost too much to bear. Xena and Gabrielle naked in a hot tub, and she missed it. Had the Fates decided that being in prison just wasn't punishment enough for her?

Suddenly, the screen sprang back into life. Sal gave a hopeful little gasp. The picture resolved and there was Oprah grinning at the camera, saying, "Welcome to a special program of Oprah's practical jokes!" Sal leapt to her feet with a deep baying sound of fury, her chair falling to the floor with a crash behind her. Trixie grabbed her upper arm, then stepped in front of her, as Miss Bozell drilled a suspicious glare across the room. "Oops!" she said loudly, "Silly me." Buffybot righted the chair and beamed at Miss Bozell, who narrowed her eyes - ha! She might have known that Bott girl had something to do with it. Miss Bozell nodded sharply to herself, that chirpy little crook would bear watching.

............

"What do you think?"

Xander had caught up with Anya in the kitchen, as she bit moodily into one of Giles' Chocolate Digestives. Tasty British biscuits in hand, they stepped into the living room, where Willow was at work. Willow had slaved through the day on her creation, and now hovered over it possessively, a soldering iron in one hand, and a fine point screwdriver in the other.

The new Buffybot head leered up at them.

Xander's hand froze, with his biscuit half way to his mouth. "It's...interesting," he said finally.

Willow pushed a sweaty bang of red hair out of her eye with the back of her hand. "The important thing is that it shouldn't look like Buffy."

"Yeah, well," said Xander, "you've sure got that bit licked."

Anya, still very much annoyed on the topic of snakes, moved up beside Xander and nudged him aside impatiently. Her eyebrows rose. "Actually, it looks kinda like Jack Nicholson."

Xander squinted his eyes and stepped back a little. "Oh, yeah - only, not just Jack Nicholson, but Jack Nicholson playing the Joker."

"Yes, precisely," said Anya, giving Xander a little nod of agreement. "Jack Nicholson, AFTER the plastic surgery went wrong." Xander laughed.

Willow looked up sharply, "Are you implying something, demon girl?"

"I'm implying that it's ugly," said Anya, "I'm implying that it looks like a clown who's had a freak accident. I'm implying that it's not good enough to fool the social worker. Have I implied all that clearly enough? Or should I imply some more?"

Willow purpled with rage.

"Oh hey, it's not that bad," said Tara nervously. "It just needs some... fine adjustment." She was hovering by the door, carefully avoiding sight of the Head. "Anyway," she said hopefully, "we may not need it after all, if Giles' plan works."

"Bureaucratic stuff always takes longer than you think it will," said Xander. He moved closer to the Head, and winced. "It's, um, it's a good effort," he said, lack of conviction ringing in his voice.

"It stinks!" yelled Willow, "I've been working on it for 6 hours

straight and it still stinks! I hate it when that happens!" She threw her soldering iron to the floor and stomped out of the room. Tara hurried after her.

"Well!" said Anya, "some people are so temperamental."

"It's meant to come with being artistic," said Xander, "but that doesn't seem to apply in Will's case."

Anya and Xander moved closer to the Head.

"Hmm," said Xander, after a long pause, "I don't know how good the new Buffybot might have been at fighting demons, but she'd certainly have frightened them."

.............

Buffybot stepped out of the shower and grinned at the nice lady watching her from across the room. She waved merrily, "I'm absolutely ok, and I didn't slip or anything. It was real nice of you to be concerned and keep watch though. It is slippery in there, isn't it?"

.............

The phone rang. Tara started from her seat, and looked across anxiously at Willow who, after a restless night, had this morning returned grimly to work on the Head. Willow gave no sign of hearing, so Tara slipped out of the room, and picked up the phone, just as Xander appeared at the top of the stairs.

"Hello?" she said nervously, "this is the Summers household."

Willow straightened her back, with a little groan. The Head was not improving, for all her efforts. Maybe the phone call was from Giles. She walked across to the door and looked out into the hall where Tara had picked up the phone.

Something was very wrong. Tara seemed frozen to the spot, and as Willow watched, she gave a sudden anguished little squeak. "Now?" she said, desperation in her voice. "Um, um, it's really not very conven... yes, I am here - but I have to go out, to, to..... Yes, it has been difficult to arrange a time, yes, I realise we've moved the appointment sev..." She stopped mid sentence and stared at the phone in her hand. "He hung up," she said incredulouly. "I thought social workers were meant to be good listeners, but he wasn't listening at all."

"Social workers?" said Willow, hurrying towards her, "Was that Mr Ormsbach? What did he want?"

Xander came down the stairs, closely followed by Anya. They all looked at Tara expectantly.

"He's coming round this morning," said Tara hollowly, "He has to work today, and he's in the area anyway, so he's coming over."

"Well, really, Tara," said Anya, "couldn't you have put him off?"

"I was trapped from the moment when he asked me if I was Buffy Summers, and I said `yes'," said Tara bitterly. "Once he knew I - Buffy - was in, I couldn't wriggle out of it."

"Of course you could," said Anya. "You just had to tell him that you have an infectious disease, or a family funeral, or that your dog had been run over and you were rushing him to the vet. Lying is easy."

"Buffy doesn't have a dog," said Tara.

Anya sighed and tapped her forehead. "He doesn't know that, does he?" she said mock patiently. "Look, Tara, hon, I realise you may not have a lot of practice with this concept, but when you're deceiving people the trick is not to tell them the truth. You fabricate, you weave a tissue of falsehood about yourself, you invent stuff."

"It was in the heat of the moment," said Tara, "my mind went blank. And things are quite complicated enough around here without a phantom dog limping about the place with its leg in a cast." She paused, then said in a rush, "Anyhow, he's coming over just before midday."

"Oh. My. God." said Willow nervously. "He's gonna be here in a couple of hours." She squared her shoulders, and touched her screwdriver and soldering iron together in an unconscious cross against misfortune.

"Well," said Anya, looking at the frightening moulded Head framed in doorway behind Willow, "obviously, one of you will have to pretend to be Buffy. It should be Tara - she's spoken to him on the phone, and she's blonde... well blonde-ish," she corrected in the cause of absolute honesty. "Actually, she's more blonde than Buffy ever was."

"Buffy's blonde," said Xander indignantly. Anya looked at him pityingly. "Isn't she?" said Xander in a small voice. He paused, "Well, that sucks."

"I am not going to last a whole interview pretending to be Buffy," said Tara stubbornly. "I can't act, at all. He'll be on to me in a second. These social workers are trained to sniff out suspicious behaviour, you know. Like bloodhounds." She shivered.

"Well, I suppose it will have to be me then," said Anya, exasperated. "I can be Buffy!" She brightened, "In fact there's quite a few things I'd like to say to the social services department..."

"NO-O-O!" shouted everyone together.

Willow looked pleadingly at Tara, "It's you or Anya... he's met me already - and Anya's a freak."

"Hey!" said Anya indignantly.

"It's for Dawn's sake, Tara," said Xander. He put his arm round Tara's shoulders and gave her a hopeful squeeze.

"I really, really don't want to do this," said Tara desperately. "I get terrible stage fright. I got thrown out of the nativity play at kindergarten because I wet myself in the dress rehearsal." She stepped forward out of Xander's arm and hugged herself.

"Too much information, sweetie," said Willow gently, moving forward to pat her, "and anyway, I'm sure that won't be a problem now you're all grown up and stuff."

"I wouldn't be so sure," said Tara grimly. She set off at a brisk pace towards the bathroom.

.............

Chapter 15 - Buffybot learns that it is hard to be human

Buffybot chewed her gumbo unhappily, a piece of cornbread clutched in her hand. This eating food business had seemed like fun at first, but she was starting to feel rather full. So far she had eaten lunch (fried chicken in gravy! chocolate pudding! coffee!), dinner (lasagna! string beans! more coffee!), then breakfast (scrambled eggs! buttered toast! yet more coffee!), and now here was lunch again. She choked - oh no! It was all coming up! Buffybot jumped to her feet and hurried for the bathroom. Miss Bozell stood in front of her. Buffybot desperately tried to dodge past, but Miss Bozell stopped her with a firm hand.

"Something's happening!" Buffybot said desperately. "The food's coming up instead of going down; that can't be right!"

"Actually," said Miss Bozell unsympathetically, "it's quite common when people actually eat the gumbo. The trick is to pinch your nose before swallowing - and it should still work. Now, pinch your nose." Buffybot moaned weakly.

"Pinch your nose. Don't be such a baby!" Said Miss Bozell sharply. Buffybot took hold of her nose reluctantly.

"Now swallow!" roared Miss Bozell.

Buffybot took a big gulp of air, then her eyes bulged as the pressure built up, and with a sudden gasp she released her nose and opened her mouth. A gush of undigested food poured forth in a multicoloured fountain.

"Ga-a-ah!" said Buffybot.

..........

Tara sat on the edge of the Summers' sofa, trembling very slightly. Willow sat beside her rubbing a comforting hand in small circles between her shoulder blades.

"Just breathe, sweetie," she said.

"And try not to look quite so much like a deer caught in the headlights," said Anya, "the social worker is going to think you have Dawn's body buried in the basement or something if you don't relax." She stepped up in front of Tara and bent down to face her, "JUST RELAX!"

Tara flinched, "I have to go to the bathroom!" she said desperately. She sprang up from the sofa and rushed through the door.

Anya narrowed her eyes, "how can anyone need to go to the bathroom three times in five minutes? Unless they have dysentery of course." She brightened, "actually that reminds of a rather amusing curse I carried out in the 1350s..."

"Please," said Willow, "do not tell any stories involving body fluids while Tara is in this condition. And please, please stop shouting at her. She's nervous enough already, poor baby."

"She's going to screw things up big time," said Anya, with a certain amount of satisfaction in her voice. "I told you you should have let me be Buffy."

The front door banged open and Xander bounded into the room, his hair full of twigs and leaves. "Target located, moving in an easterly direction," he gasped, "ETA about 30 sec..." The doorbell rang. "Or less," he added.

Willow and Anya gazed anxiously at the door through which Tara had disappeared. They waited, nervously. Nothing happened. Xander gazed at them wildly, "He's at the door!! We have to answer!"

"Tara - I mean Buffy ought to answer," said Willow. It's Tara's, I mean her house."

The doorbell rang again, louder and longer this time.

Tara burst through the living room door, horribly pale. "I think I may have a stomach bug," she said desperately.

"Dyse.." said Anya, before Willow clapped a hand firmly over her mouth.

"You're fine, sweetie," said Willow, "just breathe, and open the door!" she added as the doorbell rang a third time.

"Door," said Tara blankly.

"The front door," said Xander, taking Tara's elbow and pointing her in the right direction, "at the front of the house, in the hall... off you go." He gave Tara a firm push and she tottered in the right direction.

"This is all going to go horribly wrong!" said Anya, "I can feel it in my ex-vengeance demony bones."

............

Miss Bozell stared down at her feet, buried in a lurid mass of thoroughly chewed gumbo, fried chicken, carrots, pasta, boiled egg and other more sinister things, all swimming in a swirling tide of chocolate custard, gravy and tomato sauce.

"My God," she said, "do you have four stomachs?"

"I'm terribly sorry," said Buffybot unhappily.

"My shoes!" said Miss Bozell, "This is revolting!" She looked up at Buffybot, "You are revolting, you, you revolting little bitch." She stepped out of the pile of food with a loud obscene sucking noise. There was a snort of laughter from somewhere in the canteen. Miss Bozell shot a vicious glare across the room.

"I really am terribly sorry," said Buffybot again. She was feeling a bit funny; sort of weak, and faint, and Miss Bozell's voice seemed to be fading in and out....

Miss Bozell looked down at her legs. A bite-shaped piece of chocolate pudding was sliding down her right stocking in a slick of gravy. Her face purpled. "You are going to clean this up, you little slut."

..........

Mr Ormsbach entered the living room, and blinked. Three young people were sitting in a tightly packed row on the sofa, apparently in the middle of an animated argument.

"Ah, yes," said Tara, "these are friends of mine, just visiting - apart from Willow, of course - who is my lov... lodger. Yes, she's my lodger, who lodges here, not in an actual lodge of course. We don't have one. She's not my girlfriend. At. All." Tara blushed deeply.

"We've met," said Mr Ormsbach. He smiled at Willow, who gave him a little wave. There was a yelp and Mr Ormsbach turned his head. The other young lady on the sofa appeared to have just struck the young man sitting beside her, rather hard.

"What was that for?" said Xander. He turned to Mr Ormsbach, "oh, er hi there, nice to meet you - I guess you're the social worker."

Mr Ormsbach's eyes narrowed. "and you are the young man who was standing behind a tree in Miss Summers' next door neighbour's garden five minutes ago, observing me through what I rather think were night goggles - though they seem a little redundant at two o'clock in the afternoon. I hope the owners don't mind you forcing your way through their hedge like that - it can't be good for the bushes."

Xander blushed.

"Well!" said Anya, "and after all the hours you've been going on at me - Anya, don't discuss sex or sexual positions; Anya, keep quiet about the witchcraft; Anya, whatever you do, don't mention the robot; Anya, remember to smile at the man even if you think he's a dork..." she broke off and smiled at Mr Ormsbach, "Hi there! So nice to meet you! Buffy's a fine person, and a terrific parental substitute. Frankly, Dawn's lucky, because she is no angel, believe you me. I could tell you stories..."

"Anya!" said Willow desperately, "isn't it about time you and Xander were off? I know you have to be somewhere other than here, you know, doing stuff, someplace else."

Mr Ormsbach coughed, "Well in fact you all need to be elsewhere. I need to speak to Miss Summers alone, in confidence you understand."

"Alone?" said Tara faintly.

"Alone?" said Willow, catching Xander's eye in mutual horror.

"Alone," said Mr Ormsbach firmly. He looked at the three Scoobies on the sofa, "Now I appreciate that you wish to show your support, and that is entirely to your credit - however oddly you choose to express it," Mr Ormsbach looked hard at Xander, "but this conversation is confidential." He stood, and opened the living room door. "I'm afraid I must insist."

..........

"Um," said Buffybot. She sat down rather abruptly, "My knees just stopped working," she said, surprised.

"You're not getting out of it like that!" said Miss Bozell, furious. She grabbed Buffybot by the arm and pulled her half way to her feet. "Now get up and fetch a mop..."

"Or maybe a shovel!" said an anonymous voice behind her.

Miss Bozell wheeled furiously. "Whoever said that is going into solitary!" Buffybot sank back down again, as the support under her arm was lost. She sat quietly running through her diagnostics... things weren't looking too good.

Miss Bozell turned once again. "I said get up!" she screamed. "Don't try the `I feel faint' crap with me, you little freak."

Buffybot's head was feeling heavy. She rested it gently on her chest.

"Right, that's it!" shouted Miss Bozell. She grabbed Buffybot by the back of her shirt and started to lift her bodily from the floor.

"Hey, leave her alone!" cried a voice. A piece of cornbread sailed through the air and clipped Miss Bozell behind her left ear. She wheeled furiously, and pointed randomly at one unlucky inmate. "You are going into solitary!"

"Well, said the inmate, "if I'm already going..." She picked up the cornbread from her plate and lobbed it fast and true at Miss Bozell... who dodged neatly to one side as the cornbread sailed past.

"Hah, she said, "missed me! ......mrrff!" The Sunnydale Women's Penitentiary baseball team had all fired their cornbreads at once. Miss Bozell went down in a hail of missiles.

A second warder ran from the room, pulling her walkie-talkie from her belt as she went. One quick reaction shot bounced off the back of her head as she dived for the panic button, then ran through the door slamming it behind her.

The canteen was in an uproar. Inmates milled around, cornbreads in hand, but with no targets to aim at - until one bright soul recalled that the baseball team now had no weapons. She took careful aim and brought down the team captain with a brilliant shot dead between the eyes. The rest of the team roared in anger and descended on her with their plates of gumbo raised. Soon an ugly scene was in progress.

...........

"...yes," said Tara, "she did fall a little behind in her math. But I think she's made up a lot of ground recently..... um excuse me, I have to go to the bathroom..." she fled.

.........

Sal wriggled out of the melee, grinning like a lunatic. Gumbo was running down the back of her neck, and the skin round her left eye was rapidly turning purple. This was the best fun she'd had in ages, but she was a little worried about the kid.

Sal took a hurried step forward, and felt a warm squelching sensation. She looked down. Her foot was buried to the ankle in Buffybot's four-meal mountain. She pulled and her foot came free with a sucking sound, leaving her sneaker behind. Sal contemplated her sock quizzically for a moment, then moved onward.

..........

"Cystitis," said Tara, scarlet with mortification.

"My mother is a martyr to it," said Mr Ormsbach, "bless her!" He leant forward, "It recurs you know," he said confidingly, "the antibiotics clear it, and then a few months later - kaboom! She's on the run again. Up and down to the bathroom, every five minutes..."

Tara's scarlet cheeks drained to white, and she pressed her knees together.

............

Miss Bozell was sitting on the floor, her legs splayed in front of her, and a plate of gumbo upended on her head. She was blinking, and her mouth was opening and closing, but no sound seemed to be coming out. Sal hurried by her to Buffybot, who lay curled up like a sleepy little kitten, her nose almost touching her knees.

"You ok, honey?" she said concernedly.

Buffybot's right eye opened slowly, and she smiled. "You're Sal; you're short and you shave your head."

"Yeah, but I'm not as short as you," said Sal. She brushed Buffybot's hair back out of her opened eye. "But that's me, Buffy - you got it in one. So, how ya doing?"

Buffybot blinked slowly. "I'm feeling a bit run down is all, Sal. Maybe you could plug my belly button into an electric socket?"

Sal laughed, and bent down, and picked Buffybot up with a grunt. Oof! she was heavier than she looked. She half padded, half squelched down the aisle and knocked on the locked door at the end of the room. The whispered conversation on the other side stopped abruptly. Sal rested her shoulder against the wall, and waited.

..........

Mr Ormsbach stood on the porch, waving a friendly goodbye. Well, he thought, Miss Summers certainly seemed like a nice sensible girl. She had clearly taken a detailed and well informed interest in her sister's school studies and general welfare - and the Rosenberg girl seemed normal enough. Really, it was all most encouraging, though he did have reservations about - he hesitated to himself - well, her other more unsuitable friends. He made a little note on his file to recommend a follow-up visit in a few months time.

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

Spike sat brooding on the sofa. All the chocolate digestives were gone, and he was being forced to rough it with tea from a teabag, and an industrial sized packet of Oreos. Tara was making some godawful `Om' noise behind him - and the telly was crap. He kicked at the coffee table - that damned chip in his head had an awful lot to answer for.

He moodily stacked the Oreos on his plate into a tottering pile, then pushed them down again. Three Oreos remained defiantly stacked, teetering, and he raised his fist to crush them. Then, moved by a thought, he tentatively slid another Oreo in at table level, stabilising his tower. After gazing at the result for a few ennui drenched moments, he abruptly grabbed the huge sack of Oreos beside him and emptied them onto the table.

............

Xander sank exhausted to the ground. He had walked miles in the shifting sand, ringing Tara's number, hoping to hear it ringing in the distance. Why, oh why couldn't he remember exactly where they'd been? He knew he had a view of the Penitentiary - but apparently just about every spot in this desert had a view of the Penitentiary. He gazed for a moment at the uncaring blue sky - why, he wondered, was life so complicated sometimes? What was the point of it? ............

Giles stared at Sal, his mind racing. Was this recoverable?

Suddenly there was a loud `crunch!' They all looked round to see Maisie, standing on one leg in the middle of the room. She put her foot down gingerly again, and bent down to pick up a mangled pair of spectacles. "Oops!" she said guiltily, "now who left those there?"

"My specs!" cried Giles. He rushed forward and took them from Maisie, and held them up to the light. Both lenses were broken, and the frames were bent at a crazy 45 degree angle. As Giles cradled them in his hand the right ear piece fell off and clattered lightly to the floor.

Maisie blushed, and looked down at her sensible loafers.

.............

Tara unfolded herself from a rather complicated pretzel shape, and straightened her back. Spike's completed Oreos tower loomed menacingly, and he was now drumming a very irritating rhythm on the sofa arm. It was really tempting not to tell him about the Passions Classics marathon on cable, but that would be unworthy of her. After a brief struggle with her worser self she leant forward and tapped Spike on the shoulder. "Try Channel 25," she said.

Spike flicked over moodily - it was bound to be koalas, or kittens up trees or something. Hey! He brightened - Passions from 1999! He settled down happily - he'd missed a few of these episodes, what with all the mayhem going on at the time.

..............

Giles froze for a moment, then leant down to retrieve the broken piece. Unfortunately Maisie bent down at the same moment, and there was a clash of heads.

"Ow!" said Giles.

"Sorry!" said Maisie. And then she disappeared.

Giles, Buffybot and Sal stared at the empty space in front of them.

"Ooh!" said Buffybot, all excited, "Magic!!"

"Yes, magic," said Giles bitterly, rubbing his sore head, "and as usual it's gone wrong."

"Hey, cool," said Sal, "this weekend just keeps getting better and better."

"Where did she go?" said Buffybot, deeply interested. "Did you send her to another dimension, or into outer space?"

"I hope, and pray not," said Giles grimly. He held up the remaining part of his spectacles. "There was a transmitter in the frame," he said, "sadly in the part of the frame that Maisie has. She must have pressed it." He looked at Buffybot, "If you were completely exhausted, I mean if your battery was completely exhausted, I was meant to press the transmitter, and give it to you. Willow is at home watching her computer for the signal. If the signal came she was going to transport you back home, and give you a recharge."

Buffybot grinned - Willow had gone to all that trouble, just for her!

"So," Giles continued, "all things being equal, Maisie should now be in Willow's bedroom - watching a strange redhead in an ugly blouse approach her with a power cable in her hand - I imagine she'll be in for a nasty shock. Actually they both will."

..............

Giles had predicted that Maisie would even now be making the acquaintance of Willow, her wardrobe and her power cord. However, as is well known, locating and transporting spells are notoriously difficult to pinpoint. Willow's spell, based on the transmitter, was a good one, but Maisie found herself not in Willow's bedroom, but in the Summers' living room. She materialised in front of the tv, clutching her head.

"Hey!" said Spike, "Passions is on! Shift your bootie, darling!"

Maisie gazed around her fearfully. The man who had spoken was a bleach blonde, lounging on a sofa, and dressed all in black leather. On the table in front of him on was a sinister leaning tower, apparently built out of cookies. Behind him, leaning up against the wall, was a blonde girl, standing on her head and chanting.

.............

Xander's shoulders slumped. He was tired, and thirsty, and his smart new desert boots, bought especially for the Buffybot Rescue mission, were chafing his feet. He leaned forward, and rubbed at his toes - and saw a glint in the sand from the corner of his eye. Leaping to his feet with an exclamation, he stumbled nearer. Lying in the sand, face up, was Tara's cell phone. He reached out an excited hand - then drew it back, much faster. Coiled about the phone, and apparently in a vile mood, was a ring necked snake. It hissed at him warningly.

...........

Willow had felt the rush of power drawn down by the spell - nearly right! she thought exultantly, and bounded down the stairs to the living room door. She gazed dismayed at the back of the stranger standing there. Quickly summoning power to herself, she pointed her finger at Maisie, and cried, "Reverso!"

..............

"Right," said Giles grimly, "we need to leave at once - and hope we can find that poor woman as soon as possible!" He took Buffybot by the arm and turned, and they were both gone in the blink of an eye.

"Wow!" said Sal.

"Wow!" echoed Trixie. She had slipped out of bed and joined Sal to see what all the stir was.

"When that British guy says `at once', he sure means it," said Sal.

There was a loud "Whuff!" and then a scream from behind them. Trixie and Sal turned together. Lying on Trixie's bed was a strange young man, clutching a cell phone.

...........

Maisie stumbled to her knees into deep sand. Looking up shakily she beheld a desert, baking under a burning sun. She looked around her wildly, and a glint caught her eye. She took a cautious step toward it - and saw a cell phone lying in the shadow of a dune, with a ring necked snake wrapped around it. It hissed at her warningly.

..............

Tara, Willow, and Spike were having words.

"Who the hell was that?" said Spike. "Beaming in and out, like she bloody owns the place."

"Yes, Willow - who was that?" said Tara, taking a few steps towards her.

"Don't stand in front of the box, love," said Spike testily. "I'm watching Passions."

Tara ignored him and put her hands on her hips.

"What's going on here?" said Anya, rushing through the door - "Someone's using magic!"

`Whomp!' Giles and Buffybot materialised in mid air and crashed to the ground. Giles landed half on the sofa, and half on the coffee table, smashing Spike's Oreos tower into a shower of cookie crumbs. Buffybot crashed directly on top of the television, which disintegrated in a shower of sparks.

"No-o!" said Spike, "not when Passions Classics are on!" He pushed Giles aside, and ran to the tv set, scattering broken Oreos before him.

Buffybot rose shakily to her feet. "Ow!" she said, twisting around and looking at her rear, "Now I have a dent on my butt!"

Giles raised his head blearily from the sofa. "Oh well, this just splendid, isn't it?" he said. "I have now abducted a State Prison employee, and removed an inmate from a State Prison, all without filling in the appropriate paperwork!" He stared at Willow accusingly. "What have you done with Maisie?"

"I just sent her back," said Willow indignantly. "You guys here - whats-her-name to the Penitentiary!"

"Hmm," said Giles sceptically.

There was an ugly crunching noise and everyone flinched, and turned. Luckily it was only Spike, kicking the tv set in a fit of temper. "It's completely bollixed," he said angrily to the Buffybot. "You couldn't have done better if you'd set about it with a hammer."

"Thanks!" said Buffybot. She skipped across the room and embraced Willow.

"Oh, you poor baby!" said Tara, rushing to crush Buffybot in a three way embrace.

"Yes, well," said Giles, "This is all very touching - but right now we need to ensure that Miss, er - Maisie - is safe and well." ..........

Xander lay on Trixie's bed, Giles' cell phone still in hand. As he gazed at the white ceiling above, his view was obstructed as first one, and then another head peered interestedly down at him. There was a black woman with a shiny head, and a white woman with a green head. Xander blinked - he wondered if he was hallucinating?

"I'm pretty sure that isn't what was meant to happen," said Sal.

"Well, it's not exactly what we expected," said Trixie, "but I'm not complaining. I've been without guy company for a very long time." She was not focusing on Xander's face when she said it.

Xander pulled his knees together hastily - Hey, he thought indignantly, that chick was checking me out! He sat up, "Where am I?" he said feebly.

"Wow, people really do say that," said Sal, impressed. She smiled kindly at him. "You're in a hospital," she said.

Xander relaxed a little - that sounded likely. He'd probably had another knock on the head - they came thick and fast in Sunnydale.

"A hospital in a prison," amended Trixie.

Xander suppressed a little scream, he was too pretty for prison!

"A women's prison," Trixie added.

Xander thought furiously - that was better, but still it wasn't good. Then he twitched as a terrible thought occurred to him. No! Surely, it couldn't be, he couldn't be...

"Sunnydale Women's Penitentiary to be exact," said Sal.

"And it could be your lucky day," said Trixie, winking at him.

...........

Tara was in the lotus position, concentrating. "Something's still not right, she said, opening her eyes after a long moment, "things aren't back in place."

She closed her eyes again, as Willow, Buffybot and Giles looked on. Anya leant against the door, bored again. Spike sulked beside her. "I can't believe the Bit hasn't got a tv set in her bedroom," he said, "what kind of excuse for a teenager is she?"

"They're all weird if you ask me," said Anya, picking at one of her nails, "look at 'em." She gestured at the anxious circle by the sofa, gathered around Tara as she sat on the coffee table, meditating. Just at that moment Tara opened her eyes again, "Something's happened to Xander," she said.

"To Xander?" yelled Anya, straightening abruptly, and striding over to them, "What's happened to Xander?"

...........

"Say, honey," said Trixie, laying a hand on Xander's knee, "has anyone ever told you what pretty long eyelashes you have?"

Xander shrank back into the pillows, "It's real nice of you to say so, but I have a girlfriend," he said desperately.

...........

Anya twisted her left hand in the blouse at Willow's throat, while poking her accusingly in the chest with her right index finger. "If you've hurt one hair of my Xander's precious head with your dumb spell, I am going to kick your witchy ass," she said savagely.

Tara straightened up, and patted Anya on the arm. "We can still fix this," she said reassuringly. "But you'll have to stop strangling Willow first." Anya grudgingly released Willow and stepped away.

"Right," said Tara, "we need to return everything to its rightful place, carefully." She give Willow a stern look, "Let's try doing it together this time," she said. She turned to Giles and Buffybot. "I'm afraid you're probably going to move again, as well," she said apologetically.

"Great!" said Buffybot happily, "this is fun!"

Giles groaned, and pressed a hand to his aching temples.

"Let's begin," said Tara.

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

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Buffybot Behind Bars!