Because I Wanted To
(Technically AU. X-over with Star Trek: The Next Generation. Buffy / Data – friendship mostly, but still love even if it's not obvious. Written for a fanfic exchange among cast and crew of Buffy Between the Lines . I don't own any of the TNG or BtVS characters or worlds, I just like to play in other people's sandboxes from time to time.)
The first time they met, it was when he caught her. She'd been diving toward the portal, she remembered, and vaguely recalled a thump as her body hit the ground, except she wasn't really in it at the time. "Who are you?" he had asked.
"Buffy," she'd answered. No descriptor, no last name. Though she added, "I think I'm dead."
"I can assure you," he began in the same tone – bland, yet somehow comforting – "that you are not dead."
"Oh, okay." she'd said, and closed her eyes. "I need to rest now."
* * *
The second time they met, she was lying in a bed and things were beeping all around her. "I'm fine," she kept protesting. "Honestly, don't I look fine? Old yellow-eyes over there said I'm not dead, and I don't get sick."
"Data?" the redheaded doctor turned around to address the yellow-eyed man in question. "Could you please ask your young friend Bonnie – "
"Buffy," he had corrected, at the same moment as Buffy herself.
" – Buffy, then – what kind of a name is Buffy? – to cooperate. I can't let her leave here until I clear her of – antibodies for - Buffy, when were you born?"
"Winter," she answered, intentionally obtuse.
"Of what year?"
"Oh, that…" and she tossed off her date of birth never expecting the reaction she got.
"How did you come to arrive here from the twenty-first century?"
She'd shrugged. "Ran, jumped, fell. Woke up when he caught me." She leaned around the doctor. "Nice catch, by the way."
* * *
The third time they met, she tried to stake him.
"Buffy," he asked, all the while holding her arm away from him, "I must ask why you are trying to…stab me with wood."
"I'm not stabbing you; I'm staking you. It's my thing," she said. "Me, slayer – you vampire." Her words came out in a silly sing-song tone, as if she were drugged. She struggled against his grip, but it was firm.
With his free hand, he touched the pin on his chest. "Data to Dr. Crusher. I have apprehended your missing patient. I believe she is having an adverse reaction to the immunizations you administered," he said, apparently to the air. He waited for the tinny acknowledgement, then added, this time talking to her. "I am not a vampire."
"Sure you are," she said, straining against him. "Glowy eyes, pale skin, cool, no pulse. Never seen you eat. What else could you be?"
"I am an android," he said.
"An – what?"
"Android," he repeated. "In your vernacular, a…robot."
"Do you happen to know a creepy guy named Warren?" she asked, narrowing her eyes in suspicion.
Data said that he did not.
* * *
The fourth time they met, she was more herself, and he was sitting across a table while she pigged out on a chocolate sundae. "Chocolate," she said, "is one of the life's most perfect foods."
"I have never tried it."
"Wanna?" she asked playfully, offering her spoon.
He obliged her by taking a bite. "It is…very chocolaty," he said, not wishing to disappoint.
"See? Told you." She took another bite then asked casually, "So, you can't get sick, or get hurt, or die, right?"
"I cannot get sick. I can become damaged, but it is difficult. It is unknown whether I will eventually cease to function."
"Die," she corrected.
"Buffy, I am a machine."
"This I know. But I also know you have a soul. People with souls die. Even if they are made of wires and strings and stuff."
"How do you know I have a soul?" he asked, daring to believe. He did not mention that string was not among his core components.
"I don't know how I know. I just know you do. It's a thing."
He let her eat more of her ice cream before asking, "A thing?" He paused, processing her statement. "As staking vampires is also a…thing?"
She looked at him for a long moment then put down her spoon, and introduced herself - properly this time - "Hi, I'm Buffy, the vampire slayer." She stuck out her hand for him to shake, and when he clasped his pale gold fingers around it, some spark struck them both. "Look it up," she continued softly, reclaiming her hand. "Slayer, comma, the."
He did.
* * *
The fifth time – well, they'd already met. He'd done the research, knew who she was, knew she had to go back. They were walking toward the observation deck. "The Watcher's Codex says you were - are – will be – verb tenses are difficult when time travel is concerned – in any case, you will be called back."
"I know," she said and her eyes betrayed her sadness. "I can feel them. Will, Xander, even Tara – they're pulling me back."
"It is your home," he reminded her. "And you are needed."
"Yeah, kinda know that, but…it's nice here. I like it. And you."
"I have become fond of you, as well, Buffy." He did not bother to explain his version of fondness.
"Data…"
"I have noticed that your current tone of voice combined with the look on your face generally means you wish to ask a question. Please, just ask."
But she didn't answer. She stood on tip-toe and kissed him.
"Buffy, why did you – ?"
She cut him off with a gentle finger to his lips, smiled a secret smile, and turned away. In the next instant, the corridor was empty.
Years later, he would find the echo of her answer in his memory.
Because I wanted to.
