Author's Note: It seems we're on a roll! Thank you JayeMaru for another lovely review, your support is really appreciated. I hope my other wonderful reviewers will find their way back here too, despite the long absence of uploads.

Chapter 12: New Factors

When Dawn got home from school later that day, she saw with some satisfaction that the house appeared entirely intact. Through the window, she could see that as expected, Buffy was sitting on the couch, hypnotised by the flashing images of the TV screen. She knocked hard on the door, and remembering Willow's instructions to Buffy the previous evening, called out:

"Buffy, it's me."

Sure enough, Dawn quickly heard the sound of stomping feet, and a moment later Buffy wrenched open the door, the usual broad grin on her face.

"Dawn!"

"Hey Buffy," Dawn greeted her casually as she stepped into the house. "Did you have a good time?"

Buffy nodded contentedly. "I did – thank you. How was School?"

Dawn let out a sigh, moving her eyes casually around the hall. "School was... school. It was alright I guess, just... teachers won't get off my back about... dropping grades or whatever."

With that, she meandered into the Living room, letting her backpack drop to the floor and collapsing dramatically onto the couch.

"Why are your grades dropping?"

Dawn blinked. Buffy hadn't moved from the door. She had merely turned to observe Dawn with a look of concern on her face. She had expected her comment, like so many others, to go straight over Buffybot's head. Perhaps she had picked up a few things at the parent-teacher day after all.

"Oh," Dawn replied, while she furiously thought of something to say. "It's just... everything's been so busy, with the town nearly being destroyed, house being attacked. It makes it hard to settle down for quiet study time."

Buffy seemed to consider this. "Do Willow and Tara know?"

"No!" Dawn answered, a little more forcefully than she had intended. "I mean... it's nothing for them to worry about. It'll be fine – it's only like, October. There's plenty of time to catch up. Don't tell them – please."

Buffy still looked conflicted. "Are you sure? I think they would want to know. They care about you."

"I know they do it's just... can't we just keep this between us? Sisters keep each other's secrets."

As ever, Buffy's eyes lit up slightly at the mention of the word 'sister'.

"Alright!" She agreed happily, coming in to join Dawn and sitting beside her. "But maybe I can help you with your schoolwork! I want you to do well."

Dawn felt profoundly sceptical about that.

"How do you feel about factorising math equations?" Dawn asked half-sarcastically.

"I can do that," Buffy answered instantly with a surprising air of complete confidence.

Dawn's eyebrow shot up. "You... can?"

"Of course!" Buffy answered.

"Alright..." Dawn acquiesced, reaching over to her backpack and pulling out a workbook and a pencil.

"Well look at this," said Dawn, pointing the pencil at an equation which read:

'12y² - 20y + 3'

"I sorta get expanding brackets – but I don't even know where to start with this."

Without a word, Buffy reached out to take Dawn's pencil, before immediately scribbling:

'(2y - 3)(6y - 1)'

"Wow," said Dawn, in a genuinely impressed voice. "You didn't even have to work it out... Hey, do you want to keep helping?"

Buffy nodded emphatically, immediately looking at the next sum and beginning to write the next answer on the page.

"Hang on a sec," Dawn instructed her. "Can you show me how you worked out the first one before we move on?"

Buffy stared at her blankly, furrowing her brow slightly as if Dawn had been speaking another language. "How do you mean?"

"I mean..." Dawn began, pointing at the first question. "How did you get from this..." she moved her pencil to Buffy's answer, "to this."

"They are the same," Buffy answered plainly.

"Yeah, I get that..." Dawn replied. "They mean the same... but I need to know how to work the second one out."

"Oh," Buffy replied, as if she had never considered that possibility. She stared at the workbook for several seconds, before moving to take the pencil again.

Just then, Dawn was distracted as the sounds of voices came from outside, and a moment later she heard a key turning in the door.

"C'mon Anya," Willow pleaded, as she stepped through the front door. "It's Halloween next Wednesday, that's only eight days away! Ever since I started going there, the Magic Box has always had a massive holiday rush around Halloween, you'll need the extra help."

"I can make Xander help," Anya countered flatly as she followed Willow inside. "He's promised me he isn't working on Halloween, and I don't have to pay him anything – not with cash anyway..."

Willow gave Anya a slightly weary look. "Please Anya, after what happened at the construction site – we really need this."

"Aha!" Anya cried, pointing her finger accusatively at Willow as if she was a child whose hand had been caught in the cookie jar. "So this isn't about helping me, is it! You just want me to babysit your sex robot! You should be paying me for that, come to think of it."

Dawn felt a twinge of annoyance at Anya as she spoke, and it seemed like Willow's patience was also fraying at the seams. "Anya – you know what situation we're in money-wise. We're not asking for something for nothing, and Buffybot will do whatever you ask, without question. Not even Xander does that!"

Anya looked thoughtful at this idea, though her voice remained wary. "I still don't like it. Alright, fine – but if she breaks anything; you pay for it."

"Deal!" Willow exclaimed, letting out a large breath of relief. "But I'm sure she won't."

At that moment, Willow spotted Dawn and Buffy on the couch. "Oh – hey there. Whatcha doin' there Dawny?"

"Buffy's helping me with my Math homework," Dawn explained. "She's really good at it."

Buffy didn't look up, still apparently immersed in her scribbling.

"Alright," Willow began carefully. "But it's a little bit like just using a calculator, don't you think? Aren't you still supposed to work out some things on your own?"

Dawn frowned at that, her voice becoming defensive. "She's not a calculator – she's teaching me how to factorise equations – aren't you Buffy?"

Buffy looked up. "Yes!"

"Okay then," said Willow, who despite trying to appear upbeat still sounded a little hurt. "Well – if you do need some extra help, I'll just be in the kitchen, okay?"

"Okay," Dawn replied, feeling a little awkward all of a sudden.

When Dawn looked back to her workbook, she saw Buffybot had written an entire page of workings, detailing how she reached the answer.

"Wow, Buffy. You did it." Dawn said in surprise.

Buffy nodded. "I thought it might be more helpful if I made many small sums. Is this acceptable?"

Dawn smiled. "Yeah, it is. Let me try the next one."

There was a crisp breeze in the air as Monday morning arrived, though the sun still shone brightly on the streets of Sunnydale. Buffy strolled beside Willow and Tara as they approached the Magic Box, until they gradually came to a halt outside the entrance.

After several days, Buffy's friends had allowed her to leave the house, having found no sign whatsoever of what had happened to her on her first day at work. Buffy was very glad about this. Having spent now several days without properly fulfilling her Slayer protocols had given her a sense of restlessness, that a few hard days' work promised to correct.

"Try to be patient with Anya," Tara advised Buffy. "She doesn't really like to share much of anything – even work."

"Just try and do whatever she says," Willow added. "Oh, and stay away from the money. Anya is... very protective, when it comes to her profits."

"I will do that," Buffy assured them. "I will see you at home!"

With that, Willow and Tara headed off down the street towards the university, and Buffy strode purposefully through the door of the Magic Box, and into the wonderous world of retail.

Across the street from the shop, three young men were watching the conversation avidly. They each were each peering through a flickering screen on the inside of their bulky black van, and were listening in, courtesy of a microphone built into the roof. The camera they had planted inside a gnome in the Summers' family garden had done its work well. The moment the Slayer had left the house, they knew.

The days following their last experiment had only heightened Warren's certainty that something was amiss. According to their surveillance equipment, the Slayer had remained inside for several days now – breaking what they knew to be her usual pattern of activity. At first, he had theorised she was merely healing from her injury – the Trio had seen for themselves just how beat up the Slayer had been. Yet there had been no ambulances, no trips to the hospital – even if the Slayer had accelerated healing, it didn't seem believable that she could naturally reset a bone.

Therefore, their next experiment focused far more on testing the Slayer's responses to stress and emotions. Jonathan had prepared a particularly devious spell that was bound to deliver answers. The most beautiful part of the scheme – none of them even had to risk themselves this time. Thanks to a cunningly disguised camera hidden inside a particularly well-placed skull, all they had to do was wait – and watch.

As Anya was scribbling on pieces of paper behind the service desk, and pressing buttons on her money machine – Buffy had happily settled into her new role. Despite seeming less than happy at her presence, Anya had taken Buffy through the basics – shown her the inventory of items she sold, where they were located – gave her a brief introduction to how the storeroom was organised in the basement, and then given her some cleaning equipment and encouraged her to have at it.

After about half an hour of enthusiastic spraying and dusting, the chiming of a bell came from the front door, and Anya quickly scooted out from her desk and over to Buffy.

"Alright robot girl," said Anya, as Buffy lowered the duster from the shelf she was currently cleaning. "See that lady over there?"

Anya was pointing towards the woman who had just entered. She was extremely pale, had very short black hair, and had an expression on her face that seemed to indicate she had become aware of a particularly unpleasant odour.

"This is your first proper test – I want you to go over to her, offer to help – and don't let her leave without giving us money."

"Okay!" Buffy said, immediately striding purposefully towards the woman.

"Hello!" She called out, a broad smile on her face.

The woman narrowed her eyes. She clearly wasn't happy. "It's about time!"

Buffy's smile wavered slightly. "Can I help you?"

"I certainly hope so! I purchased this 'Urn of Ishtar' from you about a month ago – and it's worse than useless."

Buffy frowned at the large, ornate cup the lady withdrew from the satchel at her hip. "Why is that?"

"As you surely know – if you claim to work in a magic shop - an Urn of Ishtar is a crucial component in invocations in implementing desires. The spell takes hours to properly prepare – and despite my perfect preparation, the resulting affect was nothing less than disastrous. I have spent an entire week, being ignored and disregarded by every single person I meet. I have been denied bus tickets, prevented from buying groceries, my boyfriend has moved to upstate Ohio, and other things more humiliating than you can imagine!"

Buffy paused for a moment, considering her answer. "I am very sorry to hear that. Would you like another Urn?"

The woman snorted. "For a start! But I think I deserve some serious compensation!"

"Alright!" said Buffy. "I will just go and speak to Anya, then-"

The bell rang again.

Buffy turned towards the door, once again finding herself by the bookshelf, feather duster in hand.

In a moment, Anya was beside her again. "Alright robot girl – See that lady over there?"

Buffy shook her head. "How did I get here? And why did the customer leave?"

"Excuse me?" said Anya, clearly taken aback by her response.

"I just spoke to that lady!"

Anya looked at her strangely. "No... you haven't – she's just walked through the door. Now go help her – and don't let her leave without giving us money!"

So Buffy approached the customer once again, following precisely the same approach as she had before.

The bell rang again.

"Why are you doing this?" Buffy asked as she approached the customer, this time not even waiting for Anya to approach her.

If anything, the woman's expression had become more hostile than ever. "Excuse me?"

"Why are you repeating this request? I am happy to help you replace your urn."

The woman looked scandalised. "You knew about the urn!? You did this on purpose!"

Buffy heard the sound of footsteps behind her, followed by Anya's outraged voice. "Buffy – what are you doing?!"

The bell rang again.

This time, Buffy went straight to Anya, before she had even had time to leave the service desk.

"Anya – Please, I need you to listen."

"Now?" Anya questioned. "There's a customer – I need you to go and make sure she leaves us her money!"

"It is about her. Every time I try to assist-"

The bell rang again.

"Alright robot girl – See that lady over there?"

"I cannot help her!" Buffy insisted. "Every time – I end up here."

"What are you talking about?"

"Something is wrong – like before, like with Xander!"

Anya spread her hands, looking around as if searching for some evidence of wrongdoing. "I don't see anything. Except a customer who should be getting some assistance right about now..."

Buffy just shook her head. "If I do, everything will just start over!"

"Eugh," Anya grunted. "I'll do it myself!"

The bell rang again.

Jonathan stared in disbelief at the screen. It had now been over thirty time-loops – and Buffy was still completely unable to get past his spell. That should have been a phenomenal success on his part – but it had only raised further questions.

"This is insane," Warren called out from his beanbag in the corner of the van. "She's been at this over and over and over again – why isn't she lashing out, or losing her mind, or... anything?"

"I don't know man," Andrew chipped in. "She's taking longer to figure this out than Data in that episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation, where the Enterprise explodes over and over..."

Warren snorted in agreement, before a sudden realisation hit him like a photon torpedo. A realisation that changed everything.

"Data..." said Warren. "Data can't express human emotion. He has a positronic brain, but his behaviour is dictated by thousands of active programs..."

"Until he gets the emotion chip in Generations," Jonathan chipped in.

"Actually, I think you'll find the chip is introduced in Season Four," Andrew corrected. "Data just doesn't use it until Generations. He gets it off his brother Lore in..."

"Hey!" Warren shouted, snapping his fingers to get their attention. "You're missing the point here!"

Jonathan frowned. "What point?"

Warren rose slowly to his feet, crossing the floor of the van and dramatically pointing at the figure walking on the screen. "The point is... that isn't the Slayer. I can't believe I didn't see it before! I knew there was something about her!"

As he said it, an evil grin spread across Warren's face, as the possibilities suddenly flooded his brilliant mind.

"What do you mean?" asked Andrew, puzzled. "That's definitely Buffy, man."

"No it isn't," Warren insisted, putting an arm around each of his friend's shoulders. "That, my friends - is a robot."

"That's a slightly dramatic conclusion," Jonathan scoffed. "We're going to need a bit more evidence."

"Oh we're going to get a lot more evidence," Warren promised, his grin extending maliciously. "But I should know. After all – I built her."