The Other Half Lives
by Patti, Rae, Rob, and Spring - Summer of 2003
Chapter 12 – Conclusion
(Rob)
by Patti, Rae, Rob, and Spring - Summer of 2003
Chapter 12 – Conclusion
(Rob)
Warren raised his eyebrows in surprise.
"Spike? Haven't seen you in a while."
"Good reason for that. Can't stand the lot of you," Spike responded, casting his eyes over Warren's shoulder to regard Andrew and Jonathan. All three appeared to be distinctly nervous as Jonathan responded.
"What can we do for you?"
"Doubt you can do a bloody thing." Spike looked back at Warren. "You, on the other hand . . . "
The leader of the Trio's dark eyes flickered in recognition.
"Commissioning another 'bot? Can't say I blame you. Word is the last one got some limb problems."
Spike didn't respond, face dark. Warren swallowed nervously and quickly moved on.
"Right. Well, why don't you--"
"DON'T LET HIM IN!!!" screamed a frantic Andrew. "He's a vampire. It's our only defense against his predatory nature. His face will change . . . then he'll chomp on us like Ms. Pac-Man when the ghost monsters turn blue. We won't even live long enough to start the warning flash. Just BANG! Two hundred, four hundred, eight hundred, then . . . well, if there were four of us sixteen hundred, but you get the analogy, right?"
Spike rolled his eyes. "I've already been here, you little wanker. Re-check your ground rules."
He walked in and made his way toward their lair without asking for permission. The Trio clambered after him frantically as Jonathan cried out.
"Don't touch anything! Seriously, there's some dangerous stuff down there!"
"Sod off, midget. I don't wanna go anywhere near your little--say, what's this now?"
The vampire picked up a silver contraption that vaguely resembled a machine gun. All three of the supervillain wannabes shrank back. Warren spoke shakily.
"Ok . . . just put the weapon down."
"Why? Could it kill you?" Forgetting the potential migraine, Spike pointed what appeared to be the business end toward them. "Well now. No pain. What's it supposed to do?"
Warren held out his hand. "That's classified. It's really best if you put it down."
"Classified, is it? Guess I'll have to find out on my own, then."
He looked to be searching for a trigger when Andrew stage whispered harshly.
"Dammit, Warren! There is no limit to what this guy might do. Need I remind you that he nearly killed Boba? For the love of God, just answer him!!"
Warren shot Andrew a warning glance before addressing Spike again.
"Whatever you're here for, I can guarantee you it has nothing to do with what's in your hand. Just set it down nice and easy, and we can talk business."
Spike raised his eyebrows.
"Oh, business, is it? Don't think we should rightly call it that. Implies that I have something to offer."
"Ok, call it whatever turns your crank, just put down the Firestarter Ray."
"First of all, I choose to call it a demand. Secondly, this thing starts fires? That's just . . . neat."
Jonathan shifted his eyes toward Warren. "Way to blow the code name, genius."
"Shut up, Mini-me. I'm in control of the situation."
Spike raised an eyebrow.
"You're not in control of anything, mate . . . and I'm losing patience quickly. You're going to build me a little something. Otherwise . . . "
He glanced around the room, then turned the weapon toward something that caught his eye.
"Otherwise I'm gonna use this Firestarter thing on that little stuffed demon you have in the corner."
Almost against their will, the Trio began to snicker. Andrew looked at Jonathan.
"He's going to use Firestarter on the Jawa doll."
Spike growled and refocused the weapon on Warren, who froze.
"Hey, take it easy. Just playing a little."
"I'm bloody through playing. Do what I tell you or I'll find out what this baby does by trial and error."
"Fine. Whatever you want."
"I need another robot . . . and no, not for me. For someone else."
"No problem. I can do that. What kind do you want?"
"Been thinkin' about that on the way over here. Need a girl. Beautiful and accommodating."
"Like Buffy was?"
Spike looked down at the floor for a moment before responding.
"Yeah. That'll do."
"What do you want her to look like?"
"Guy I'm giving this to appears to be a fan of one o' those boy bands."
"Backstreet Boys?"
"No."
"98 Degrees?"
"No."
"New Kids On the Block?"
"Dear God, no."
"N'Sync?"
"That's it. One of those boys. Playing in Sunnydale tomorrow night."
Andrew's face lit up. "Justin Timberlake? I love him! Warren, let's make a Justin bot."
He stared off into space. "Mmmmm . . . Justin."
"I don't want a damned Justin-bot. Do that on your own time. Point is I need the kind of girl Justin would fancy."
Jonathan considered. "Is he still with Britney?"
Andrew scoffed at him. "Get with it already. He dumped her after she cheated on him! Can you imagine anyone crazy enough to cheat on Justin? Who does she think she is, anyway?!"
"Right, I forgot. What about Christina?"
"They just happen to be touring together this summer. Both say they're platonic. Plus I hear she's sort of a pain."
"So Justin’s solo?"
"Yeah, right. Please. I read in People that he's dating Cameron Diaz."
Spike rolled his eyes.
"Helloooo!!! Vampire holding deadly weapon here! I don't care about Justin Sodding Timberlake dating . . . Cameron Diaz? Really? Isn't she a lot older?"
Andrew turned to Spike with a nod. "Yeah, she's like, 30. Justin's 22."
The blonde vampire considered. "Not that much, when one thinks about it. Plenty of girls date men who could be their grandfathers. No one ever says a word about that."
"Good point, Spike. Hey, if Catherine Zeta-Jones and Michael Douglas can do it, why shouldn't Ashton and Demi?"
"Right. We were supposed to just believe Catherine'd be attracted to Connery in that art caper movie . . . what was it called?"
"Entrapment."
"Yeah. He was what, 70 years old at the time? I realize he's the only real James Bond, but that was ridiculous."
Andrew's eyes widened. "Hold on there. Timothy Dalton was highly underrated."
"Don't be a stupid git. Dalton was . . . "
Spike stopped short, shaking his head from side to side.
"Bloody Hell, I'm turning into Xander. Warren, hurry up and make the robot. I'm gettin' geek germs just standin' down here."
Warren looked from the vamp to Andrew. "Did we settle on who we're using as a model?"
Spike had his finger on the trigger of the weapon now. All three geeks put their hands up in defense.
"Warren, I'll take one Cameron Diaz 'Bot to go. Hold the pickle."
The leader of the Trio snickered. "Sparky's mom caught him holding the pickle once."
"Shut up, Warren!"
"You shut up, Tattoo!"
Spike took out his lighter and vamped out. He moved quickly toward the Jawa doll with a snarl. Warren spoke in a rush.
"Whoa, hold on. No need to get crazy. I'll start working on it now."
"You've got an hour. If I don't see and hear Cameron by then, the little robed thing with the red eyes goes up in smoke. Clear?"
Warren hurried into the next room. Spike regarded Jonathan and Andrew, weapon now trained on them again.
"While we wait, tell me about this weapon. Curious, I am."
Andrew looked at him reverently. "Do you realize you talk just like Yoda sometimes?"
"Actually I don't very often. That's just the only way Rob can think of to write my character."
"Huh?"
"Nothing. Now, about this weapon . . . "
Jonathan sighed. "We named it Firestarter for the Stephen King movie."
Spike frowned, casting his mind back. "Drew Barrymore? Post E.T., pre drug period?"
"Umm . . . I think so. Somewhere in there. Anyway, in the movie her dad has this power--"
Andrew interrupted. "Her dad was played by David Keith. I really like him; he was terrific in An Officer and a Gentleman. It was so sad when he hung himself near the end."
Jonathan shook his head. "That's hanged, not hung."
"Put a sock in it, Grammar Nazi. You don't even know."
"Do too, Q-Tip."
Spike flicked his lighter and held it close to the Jawa's brown robe. Seeing this, Jonathan stiffened.
"Ok, ok. Sorry about the blonde joke. Like we were saying . . . David Keith plays Drew's dad. He has the ability to control people's minds by pressing his hands against his forehead."
Spike nodded. "I remember that now. Caused his nose to bleed. That part always made me hungry."
"R-right. Anyway, the weapon you have sends a subsonic pulse to the subconscious mind when you pull the trigger. You can tell people to do whatever you want."
"Like hypnotic suggestion?"
"More like hypnotic command. It's scary how well it works . . . and whatever you do to alter a subject's mind can only be changed by aiming the weapon at them again to undo it. Otherwise, the effects are permanent. That's why it's so dangerous. If you pulled the trigger and told me to go to Hell, I'd do a spell to open a portal and go there . . . no questions asked."
Spike looked genuinely impressed as he regarded the weapon.
"Interesting."
Andrew smiled proudly. "And nosebleed free."
"Do you have to hold the trigger down?"
Jonathan took that one. "No. One second of direct exposure gives you about sixty seconds to implant whatever you want in the subject."
The vampire turned the weapon on Andrew before he could protest and pulled the trigger. A tiny pinprick of light flashed, causing the nerd's face to go blank. Spike stepped toward him.
"Let's see if it works. Andrew, do the Electric Slide."
Jonathan grimaced. "That's pretty cruel."
Spike grinned. "Yeah. Should be fun."
Forty seconds later Andrew came out of the trance and immediately began shuffling forward, backward and sideways, providing his own vocal accompaniment.
"You've gotta move it, IT'S ELECTRIC! Boogie woogie woogie."
Warren stepped into the room at that moment, addressing the vampire directly through his protective goggles.
"Ok, I'm going to need a couple of days for an anatomically correct Cameron. I don't have enough leg material. I know you're in a rush, so you may want to pick someone like . . . oh, I don't know. Jada Pinkett Smith, or . . . or Prince. Ok, technically he's a guy, but I was going for short. Help me out here. Any suggestions?"
For the first time he regarded Andrew. The blonde geek had the White Man's Overbite in full effect as he danced enthusiastically. Warren raised an eyebrow.
"Ok then, could someone at least give me a reason why Andrew is acting like he's at a wedding reception?"
Spike had heard little, staring off into space. At last he smiled and addressed Warren.
"Tell you what. Cancel the robot order. Gonna borrow your little invention for a bit."
Jonathan's eyes widened. "Wait a minute. You can't just take--"
He stopped as Spike pointed the weapon at him.
"Upon reflection, you can do whatever you want, sir."
The vampire grinned. "I plan to."
Warren called out to him one more time, eyes on Andrew.
"Are you gonna leave him like this?"
"I'm gonna teach you, teach you, teach you, I'll teach you the Electric Sliiide!"
Spike winced. "He'll just keep doin' it forever?"
Jonathan nodded as he answered.
"Hence the scariness I mentioned before."
"Bloody Hell. Even I'm not that evil."
Spike moved in step with Andrew long enough to reverse the effects, then headed for the Magic Box.
Buffy checked her watch.
"How long does it take to make a robot anyway?"
Willow looked contemplative.
"Depends on the needed materials. If they're creating a woman from scratch, they can pick and choose anatomical characteristics. If they went by a famous person it might take a little longer to iron out the details."
Tara wrinkled her nose.
"Your puns are getting worse, honey."
Willow's face put on a mock hurt expression.
"Fine, then. I won't tell anyone about my favorite parts of your anatomy."
Giles winced. "Please don't."
The bell rang as Spike swaggered through the door, holding his new toy. Xander raised an eyebrow.
"Uhhh, Spike? The Star Trek convention isn't starting for two more weeks."
The vampire addressed Buffy. "Where's the boy?"
"In the training room. What is that thing?"
"Exactly what he deserves. You all stay out here. I'll be right back."
Both Slayers stepped in his way, but Buffy spoke first.
"While part of me completely supports the idea of permanent injury to this creep, the better part of me says no."
"This won't hurt him a bit, luv. Just solve the problem. Promise."
Faith frowned at him. "I realize you and B are hookin' up, but you're still a vamp, right? Your promises are about as good as government treaties with the Native Americans in the 19th century."
Everyone stared at her. She put her hands on her hips defensively. "The prison had a library, ok?"
Spike sighed. "I can't even sneeze on the filthy bugger without needin' an Advil and you know it. This will work. Buffy . . . trust me?"
They stared at each other a long time. Finally Buffy nodded to Faith. The Slayers stepped aside and Spike quickly strode through.
"I'll only be a minute."
Greg was seated on the pommel horse when his eyes fell on the weapon pointed at him.
"What the Hell is tha-"
The light flashed before he could finish. Spike quickly stepped toward him and spoke.
"Right then, here's the deal. There's gonna be times when women are nice to you who aren't necessarily interested in shagging. That's called politeness, you stupid twit. If you're too dense to figure out the difference between that and genuine attraction, that's your problem, not theirs. From now on if a woman turns down your offer for a cup of coffee, you'll say ok and move on. No more of this 'get even' magic business. In fact, you don't even know what magic is any more. It's out of your hands forever. Now leave here . . . and don't come back. Otherwise I'll make you cluck like a bloody chicken for the rest of your life or something."
Greg immediately headed for the front. Spike caught his arm.
"Back door."
Once he left, the vampire smiled and called out.
"Need some help in here!"
Quickly he pressed his back against the wall as everyone, led by Buffy, burst into the room. Before anyone could react he pulled the trigger and flashed the entire group. All seven were now frozen in place. Spike smiled and rubbed his chin in thought.
"Where to begin. Where to begin . . . "
He stepped toward Xander and Anya.
"Every week you two are comin' to my crypt and cleaning it up. Wash the sheets, clear the cobwebs, dry clean the duster--the whole bit."
Next came Willow and Tara.
"You two will supply with me fresh blood and smokes whenever I run low."
He glanced at Giles.
"You'll give the witches money to pay for them."
He moved over to Faith and looked from her to Buffy . . . and back again, licking his lips.
"The mind reels at the possibilities. Unfortunately I seem to be a one-woman man. Plus you're all hairy right now, so . . ."
He addressed everyone but Buffy. "All of you will leave for at least six hours without coming back. Rupert, make certain you close the store on your way out. Go now."
He looked back to his Slayer, still staring blankly forward as her family filed out obediently. Twenty seconds left, he thought. Finally he spoke softly.
"Thought about tellin' you to never have any doubts about me again. Just us against the whole sodding world forever."
After a moment's hesitation, he broke the weapon into two neat pieces over his knee.
"Some things just have to happen naturally."
Buffy came out of her trance and found herself alone in the training room. She opened her mouth to call for everyone when she overheard a clattering noise in the alley. Cautiously she crept toward the back door, only to find Spike walking in.
"Easy now, Slayer. You'll hurt someone."
"What was that noise? And where is everybody? Did Greg get away again?"
"That noise was me putting a problem in the rubbish bin. As to your second question, everyone graciously decided to give us some extended time alone. Thirdly, Greg is no longer going to give unwanted sex change operations. Ol' Spike took care of everything."
She eyed him suspiciously. "Did he now? Why do I think there's stuff you're not telling me?"
"I love you. What more to you need to know?"
Her eyes softened. "I knew that already. I also know you're giving me those puppy dog eyes to get me to change the subject."
He began to walk toward her with a smirk.
"You wanna interrogate me, Slayer? Let's start with a full body search, shall we?"
She caught her breath as he ripped off his shirt.
"Spike . . . "
He moved behind her, slipping his hands beneath her blouse to caress the skin of her belly.
"Of course, it may take me some time to pound that last bit of information into you . . . how much can you take?"
She moaned and leaned into him as his fingers wandered further south. "I . . . never was a very good student. This . . . oooh yesss . . . this might take a while."
"Think you can handle the extra long study session?"
She slipped off her sandals and turned to face him.
"Think you can last long enough to teach me anything?"
"One way to find out."
Buffy backed away, keeping her eyes fixed on his as she wriggled out of her jeans.
"I think we both know there are many more ways than one. How long do we have back here?"
Spike's nostrils flared.
"Six hours."
She tossed the remainder of her clothing aside and leaned against the pommel horse.
"Time’s a wasting then, isn't it? Wanna start right in with the gymnastics or do you need a warmup?"
"Just looking at you warms me up nicely."
"You weren't just making that part up about the six hours, were you? If I hear that bell ringing from the front . . . "
"Buffy, if you hear bells ringin', I'll be the one causing them. Hop up on that horse. I've something to show you."
He descended upon her before she could respond.
***
End of Chapter 12 - End of Story
"Spike? Haven't seen you in a while."
"Good reason for that. Can't stand the lot of you," Spike responded, casting his eyes over Warren's shoulder to regard Andrew and Jonathan. All three appeared to be distinctly nervous as Jonathan responded.
"What can we do for you?"
"Doubt you can do a bloody thing." Spike looked back at Warren. "You, on the other hand . . . "
The leader of the Trio's dark eyes flickered in recognition.
"Commissioning another 'bot? Can't say I blame you. Word is the last one got some limb problems."
Spike didn't respond, face dark. Warren swallowed nervously and quickly moved on.
"Right. Well, why don't you--"
"DON'T LET HIM IN!!!" screamed a frantic Andrew. "He's a vampire. It's our only defense against his predatory nature. His face will change . . . then he'll chomp on us like Ms. Pac-Man when the ghost monsters turn blue. We won't even live long enough to start the warning flash. Just BANG! Two hundred, four hundred, eight hundred, then . . . well, if there were four of us sixteen hundred, but you get the analogy, right?"
Spike rolled his eyes. "I've already been here, you little wanker. Re-check your ground rules."
He walked in and made his way toward their lair without asking for permission. The Trio clambered after him frantically as Jonathan cried out.
"Don't touch anything! Seriously, there's some dangerous stuff down there!"
"Sod off, midget. I don't wanna go anywhere near your little--say, what's this now?"
The vampire picked up a silver contraption that vaguely resembled a machine gun. All three of the supervillain wannabes shrank back. Warren spoke shakily.
"Ok . . . just put the weapon down."
"Why? Could it kill you?" Forgetting the potential migraine, Spike pointed what appeared to be the business end toward them. "Well now. No pain. What's it supposed to do?"
Warren held out his hand. "That's classified. It's really best if you put it down."
"Classified, is it? Guess I'll have to find out on my own, then."
He looked to be searching for a trigger when Andrew stage whispered harshly.
"Dammit, Warren! There is no limit to what this guy might do. Need I remind you that he nearly killed Boba? For the love of God, just answer him!!"
Warren shot Andrew a warning glance before addressing Spike again.
"Whatever you're here for, I can guarantee you it has nothing to do with what's in your hand. Just set it down nice and easy, and we can talk business."
Spike raised his eyebrows.
"Oh, business, is it? Don't think we should rightly call it that. Implies that I have something to offer."
"Ok, call it whatever turns your crank, just put down the Firestarter Ray."
"First of all, I choose to call it a demand. Secondly, this thing starts fires? That's just . . . neat."
Jonathan shifted his eyes toward Warren. "Way to blow the code name, genius."
"Shut up, Mini-me. I'm in control of the situation."
Spike raised an eyebrow.
"You're not in control of anything, mate . . . and I'm losing patience quickly. You're going to build me a little something. Otherwise . . . "
He glanced around the room, then turned the weapon toward something that caught his eye.
"Otherwise I'm gonna use this Firestarter thing on that little stuffed demon you have in the corner."
Almost against their will, the Trio began to snicker. Andrew looked at Jonathan.
"He's going to use Firestarter on the Jawa doll."
Spike growled and refocused the weapon on Warren, who froze.
"Hey, take it easy. Just playing a little."
"I'm bloody through playing. Do what I tell you or I'll find out what this baby does by trial and error."
"Fine. Whatever you want."
"I need another robot . . . and no, not for me. For someone else."
"No problem. I can do that. What kind do you want?"
"Been thinkin' about that on the way over here. Need a girl. Beautiful and accommodating."
"Like Buffy was?"
Spike looked down at the floor for a moment before responding.
"Yeah. That'll do."
"What do you want her to look like?"
"Guy I'm giving this to appears to be a fan of one o' those boy bands."
"Backstreet Boys?"
"No."
"98 Degrees?"
"No."
"New Kids On the Block?"
"Dear God, no."
"N'Sync?"
"That's it. One of those boys. Playing in Sunnydale tomorrow night."
Andrew's face lit up. "Justin Timberlake? I love him! Warren, let's make a Justin bot."
He stared off into space. "Mmmmm . . . Justin."
"I don't want a damned Justin-bot. Do that on your own time. Point is I need the kind of girl Justin would fancy."
Jonathan considered. "Is he still with Britney?"
Andrew scoffed at him. "Get with it already. He dumped her after she cheated on him! Can you imagine anyone crazy enough to cheat on Justin? Who does she think she is, anyway?!"
"Right, I forgot. What about Christina?"
"They just happen to be touring together this summer. Both say they're platonic. Plus I hear she's sort of a pain."
"So Justin’s solo?"
"Yeah, right. Please. I read in People that he's dating Cameron Diaz."
Spike rolled his eyes.
"Helloooo!!! Vampire holding deadly weapon here! I don't care about Justin Sodding Timberlake dating . . . Cameron Diaz? Really? Isn't she a lot older?"
Andrew turned to Spike with a nod. "Yeah, she's like, 30. Justin's 22."
The blonde vampire considered. "Not that much, when one thinks about it. Plenty of girls date men who could be their grandfathers. No one ever says a word about that."
"Good point, Spike. Hey, if Catherine Zeta-Jones and Michael Douglas can do it, why shouldn't Ashton and Demi?"
"Right. We were supposed to just believe Catherine'd be attracted to Connery in that art caper movie . . . what was it called?"
"Entrapment."
"Yeah. He was what, 70 years old at the time? I realize he's the only real James Bond, but that was ridiculous."
Andrew's eyes widened. "Hold on there. Timothy Dalton was highly underrated."
"Don't be a stupid git. Dalton was . . . "
Spike stopped short, shaking his head from side to side.
"Bloody Hell, I'm turning into Xander. Warren, hurry up and make the robot. I'm gettin' geek germs just standin' down here."
Warren looked from the vamp to Andrew. "Did we settle on who we're using as a model?"
Spike had his finger on the trigger of the weapon now. All three geeks put their hands up in defense.
"Warren, I'll take one Cameron Diaz 'Bot to go. Hold the pickle."
The leader of the Trio snickered. "Sparky's mom caught him holding the pickle once."
"Shut up, Warren!"
"You shut up, Tattoo!"
Spike took out his lighter and vamped out. He moved quickly toward the Jawa doll with a snarl. Warren spoke in a rush.
"Whoa, hold on. No need to get crazy. I'll start working on it now."
"You've got an hour. If I don't see and hear Cameron by then, the little robed thing with the red eyes goes up in smoke. Clear?"
Warren hurried into the next room. Spike regarded Jonathan and Andrew, weapon now trained on them again.
"While we wait, tell me about this weapon. Curious, I am."
Andrew looked at him reverently. "Do you realize you talk just like Yoda sometimes?"
"Actually I don't very often. That's just the only way Rob can think of to write my character."
"Huh?"
"Nothing. Now, about this weapon . . . "
Jonathan sighed. "We named it Firestarter for the Stephen King movie."
Spike frowned, casting his mind back. "Drew Barrymore? Post E.T., pre drug period?"
"Umm . . . I think so. Somewhere in there. Anyway, in the movie her dad has this power--"
Andrew interrupted. "Her dad was played by David Keith. I really like him; he was terrific in An Officer and a Gentleman. It was so sad when he hung himself near the end."
Jonathan shook his head. "That's hanged, not hung."
"Put a sock in it, Grammar Nazi. You don't even know."
"Do too, Q-Tip."
Spike flicked his lighter and held it close to the Jawa's brown robe. Seeing this, Jonathan stiffened.
"Ok, ok. Sorry about the blonde joke. Like we were saying . . . David Keith plays Drew's dad. He has the ability to control people's minds by pressing his hands against his forehead."
Spike nodded. "I remember that now. Caused his nose to bleed. That part always made me hungry."
"R-right. Anyway, the weapon you have sends a subsonic pulse to the subconscious mind when you pull the trigger. You can tell people to do whatever you want."
"Like hypnotic suggestion?"
"More like hypnotic command. It's scary how well it works . . . and whatever you do to alter a subject's mind can only be changed by aiming the weapon at them again to undo it. Otherwise, the effects are permanent. That's why it's so dangerous. If you pulled the trigger and told me to go to Hell, I'd do a spell to open a portal and go there . . . no questions asked."
Spike looked genuinely impressed as he regarded the weapon.
"Interesting."
Andrew smiled proudly. "And nosebleed free."
"Do you have to hold the trigger down?"
Jonathan took that one. "No. One second of direct exposure gives you about sixty seconds to implant whatever you want in the subject."
The vampire turned the weapon on Andrew before he could protest and pulled the trigger. A tiny pinprick of light flashed, causing the nerd's face to go blank. Spike stepped toward him.
"Let's see if it works. Andrew, do the Electric Slide."
Jonathan grimaced. "That's pretty cruel."
Spike grinned. "Yeah. Should be fun."
Forty seconds later Andrew came out of the trance and immediately began shuffling forward, backward and sideways, providing his own vocal accompaniment.
"You've gotta move it, IT'S ELECTRIC! Boogie woogie woogie."
Warren stepped into the room at that moment, addressing the vampire directly through his protective goggles.
"Ok, I'm going to need a couple of days for an anatomically correct Cameron. I don't have enough leg material. I know you're in a rush, so you may want to pick someone like . . . oh, I don't know. Jada Pinkett Smith, or . . . or Prince. Ok, technically he's a guy, but I was going for short. Help me out here. Any suggestions?"
For the first time he regarded Andrew. The blonde geek had the White Man's Overbite in full effect as he danced enthusiastically. Warren raised an eyebrow.
"Ok then, could someone at least give me a reason why Andrew is acting like he's at a wedding reception?"
Spike had heard little, staring off into space. At last he smiled and addressed Warren.
"Tell you what. Cancel the robot order. Gonna borrow your little invention for a bit."
Jonathan's eyes widened. "Wait a minute. You can't just take--"
He stopped as Spike pointed the weapon at him.
"Upon reflection, you can do whatever you want, sir."
The vampire grinned. "I plan to."
Warren called out to him one more time, eyes on Andrew.
"Are you gonna leave him like this?"
"I'm gonna teach you, teach you, teach you, I'll teach you the Electric Sliiide!"
Spike winced. "He'll just keep doin' it forever?"
Jonathan nodded as he answered.
"Hence the scariness I mentioned before."
"Bloody Hell. Even I'm not that evil."
Spike moved in step with Andrew long enough to reverse the effects, then headed for the Magic Box.
Buffy checked her watch.
"How long does it take to make a robot anyway?"
Willow looked contemplative.
"Depends on the needed materials. If they're creating a woman from scratch, they can pick and choose anatomical characteristics. If they went by a famous person it might take a little longer to iron out the details."
Tara wrinkled her nose.
"Your puns are getting worse, honey."
Willow's face put on a mock hurt expression.
"Fine, then. I won't tell anyone about my favorite parts of your anatomy."
Giles winced. "Please don't."
The bell rang as Spike swaggered through the door, holding his new toy. Xander raised an eyebrow.
"Uhhh, Spike? The Star Trek convention isn't starting for two more weeks."
The vampire addressed Buffy. "Where's the boy?"
"In the training room. What is that thing?"
"Exactly what he deserves. You all stay out here. I'll be right back."
Both Slayers stepped in his way, but Buffy spoke first.
"While part of me completely supports the idea of permanent injury to this creep, the better part of me says no."
"This won't hurt him a bit, luv. Just solve the problem. Promise."
Faith frowned at him. "I realize you and B are hookin' up, but you're still a vamp, right? Your promises are about as good as government treaties with the Native Americans in the 19th century."
Everyone stared at her. She put her hands on her hips defensively. "The prison had a library, ok?"
Spike sighed. "I can't even sneeze on the filthy bugger without needin' an Advil and you know it. This will work. Buffy . . . trust me?"
They stared at each other a long time. Finally Buffy nodded to Faith. The Slayers stepped aside and Spike quickly strode through.
"I'll only be a minute."
Greg was seated on the pommel horse when his eyes fell on the weapon pointed at him.
"What the Hell is tha-"
The light flashed before he could finish. Spike quickly stepped toward him and spoke.
"Right then, here's the deal. There's gonna be times when women are nice to you who aren't necessarily interested in shagging. That's called politeness, you stupid twit. If you're too dense to figure out the difference between that and genuine attraction, that's your problem, not theirs. From now on if a woman turns down your offer for a cup of coffee, you'll say ok and move on. No more of this 'get even' magic business. In fact, you don't even know what magic is any more. It's out of your hands forever. Now leave here . . . and don't come back. Otherwise I'll make you cluck like a bloody chicken for the rest of your life or something."
Greg immediately headed for the front. Spike caught his arm.
"Back door."
Once he left, the vampire smiled and called out.
"Need some help in here!"
Quickly he pressed his back against the wall as everyone, led by Buffy, burst into the room. Before anyone could react he pulled the trigger and flashed the entire group. All seven were now frozen in place. Spike smiled and rubbed his chin in thought.
"Where to begin. Where to begin . . . "
He stepped toward Xander and Anya.
"Every week you two are comin' to my crypt and cleaning it up. Wash the sheets, clear the cobwebs, dry clean the duster--the whole bit."
Next came Willow and Tara.
"You two will supply with me fresh blood and smokes whenever I run low."
He glanced at Giles.
"You'll give the witches money to pay for them."
He moved over to Faith and looked from her to Buffy . . . and back again, licking his lips.
"The mind reels at the possibilities. Unfortunately I seem to be a one-woman man. Plus you're all hairy right now, so . . ."
He addressed everyone but Buffy. "All of you will leave for at least six hours without coming back. Rupert, make certain you close the store on your way out. Go now."
He looked back to his Slayer, still staring blankly forward as her family filed out obediently. Twenty seconds left, he thought. Finally he spoke softly.
"Thought about tellin' you to never have any doubts about me again. Just us against the whole sodding world forever."
After a moment's hesitation, he broke the weapon into two neat pieces over his knee.
"Some things just have to happen naturally."
Buffy came out of her trance and found herself alone in the training room. She opened her mouth to call for everyone when she overheard a clattering noise in the alley. Cautiously she crept toward the back door, only to find Spike walking in.
"Easy now, Slayer. You'll hurt someone."
"What was that noise? And where is everybody? Did Greg get away again?"
"That noise was me putting a problem in the rubbish bin. As to your second question, everyone graciously decided to give us some extended time alone. Thirdly, Greg is no longer going to give unwanted sex change operations. Ol' Spike took care of everything."
She eyed him suspiciously. "Did he now? Why do I think there's stuff you're not telling me?"
"I love you. What more to you need to know?"
Her eyes softened. "I knew that already. I also know you're giving me those puppy dog eyes to get me to change the subject."
He began to walk toward her with a smirk.
"You wanna interrogate me, Slayer? Let's start with a full body search, shall we?"
She caught her breath as he ripped off his shirt.
"Spike . . . "
He moved behind her, slipping his hands beneath her blouse to caress the skin of her belly.
"Of course, it may take me some time to pound that last bit of information into you . . . how much can you take?"
She moaned and leaned into him as his fingers wandered further south. "I . . . never was a very good student. This . . . oooh yesss . . . this might take a while."
"Think you can handle the extra long study session?"
She slipped off her sandals and turned to face him.
"Think you can last long enough to teach me anything?"
"One way to find out."
Buffy backed away, keeping her eyes fixed on his as she wriggled out of her jeans.
"I think we both know there are many more ways than one. How long do we have back here?"
Spike's nostrils flared.
"Six hours."
She tossed the remainder of her clothing aside and leaned against the pommel horse.
"Time’s a wasting then, isn't it? Wanna start right in with the gymnastics or do you need a warmup?"
"Just looking at you warms me up nicely."
"You weren't just making that part up about the six hours, were you? If I hear that bell ringing from the front . . . "
"Buffy, if you hear bells ringin', I'll be the one causing them. Hop up on that horse. I've something to show you."
He descended upon her before she could respond.
***
End of Chapter 12 - End of Story
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