Chapter 2: Not Your Fault

The air in the basement was thick with the smell of dust and age.

The yellow light of the bulb flickered sleepily into life, illuminating the shelves of jars, scrolls and artefacts which surrounded Willow and Xander on all sides. Not a single surface was free of organised clutter, doubtlessly arranged in a system only Giles could fully comprehend.

"Maybe you should have brought Anya down here instead of me..." Xander suggested, clearly intimidated by the sheer volume of magical junk all around him.

"Nawh, how hard can it be to hide a five-foot robot?" Willow asked sweetly, though her sheepish expression suggested she already knew.

A perhaps not-so-surprisingly long while, as it turned out. Boxes were shifted, cupboards searched, and during the ordeals several delicate items were caught from falling to their doom by Xander's suddenly astute reflexes, presumably motivated by the thought of Anya's wrath putting the fear of D'Hoffryn into him. Willow moved somewhat slower. She tried to hide it from Xander, but the resurrection ritual had drained far more than merely the scope of her ability to cast spells. Though making the effort to take charge only a minute or so before had got some adrenaline pumping through her, it had already faded. Now staying awake seemed like all the exertion she could handle.

Eventually, Xander lifted a thick woollen blanket from the back of a large closet, letting out a breath of satisfaction as he saw the robot leaning against the back panel.

"Bingo," Xander called out, scratching the back of his head in relief. He quickly shifted the assorted merchandise between him and the robot, clearing the path for him to carry her upstairs. He reached out his hands to get a grip on her, but after placing them on April's hips for the briefest of moments recoiled them awkwardly, and proceeded to try and find the proper, respectful way to lift her.

Willow watched on in amusement, leaning backwards onto a wooden crate. "Xander… she's not real. You don't need to worry about chivalry"

"I know… it just… seems a little strange is all." He took a deep breath before trying again. "Okay… come to…"

Xander let out a startled cry as the robot promptly fell on him.

"Simulacrum Portare!" Willow recited quickly, and with small wisp of green light emanating from her hands, April began to levitate a few feet above the ground.

"I'm okay – I'm okay!" Xander stated, seemingly as much to himself as to Willow, rolling out from under the floating body. "She's a lot heavier than she looks…"

"Smooth," Willow shot back, before she stumbled trying to rise from her leaning position. Her body felt heavy, her limbs dead. With a hefty crash, April collapsed onto the ground.

"Wil?!" Xander asked, his voice thick with sudden concern.

"I'm… I'm fine," Willow whispered distantly as Xander helped her slowly to her feet. "Let's just get back to the others."


"That's it!" Tara cried out, grasping the book Dawn had swivelled towards her on the table.

"Just in the nick of time, looks like" Spike announced from the window, now barricaded with whatever furniture was to hand. "Our demon friends out there seem to be getting a bit antsy"

"Antsy?" Dawn questioned.

As if in answer to her question, a bright flash of light detonated against the outside of the window, sending the screams of fractured shards of glass flying into the Magic Box alongside the initial, deafening roar.

Spike had hurled himself to the floor, whilst the remaining Scoobies ducked behind the round table, Dawn unable to restrain herself from letting out a shrill scream in the meantime.

As Spike sprang to his feet to intercept the first of the Hellions Demons who were now trying to topple the piled furniture that kept them at bay, Anya urgently crawled across the shop floor towards the training room.

Tara quickly realised she was out of time. Crossing her legs under the table, she blocked out the chaos of the world around her. There were only her breaths, and the pathways of magical energies that flowed through and beyond her.

"Enemies, fly and fall, circling arms, raise a wall!" She chanted in a building crescendo, first stretching her arms wide apart before slamming them back together. The barrier grew around Tara like the surface of a lake, expanding outwards in every direction with the sound of an unyielding gale. At first it seemed as if it might collapse under its own weight, great hollows appearing erratically in its surface, hindering the bubble's growth. Yet Tara clenched her eyes shut, once again trying to drown out her fears, allowing herself to be a conduit without doubt or anxiety.

The barrier responded, bursting out once more and flooding every corner of the room. The two Hellions Demons who had managed to clamber over Spike's barricade, who now stood in hand-to-hand combat with the bleached-haired vampire were suddenly flung back out from where they had come with startled cries, landing amongst the book-fires they had fed to bursting only minutes before. Within moments however, the creatures had managed to smother the flames that had begun to burn through their thick leather jackets with hungry delight, and began to charge off down the street towards their waiting bikes.

Spike's vicious smile suddenly turned to a curse on his lips.

"Bugger" he breathed, vaulting over the bookshelf without a thought before the barrier intercepted him, knocking him flat on his back amongst the wreckage of his barricade.

"What's wrong?" Dawn asked him, climbing out from under the table. "I mean – the spell worked, didn't it? We're safe now."

"That it did love," Spike told her, brushing off the dirt and dust from his long leather coat. "Bit too bloody well as it turns out. What do you think those half-wits are going to do now we've let 'em escape eh?"

"Well… wouldn't they leave? Once they realise they can't get in here."

Spike let out a snicker. "Hellions demons? Nah. You've gotta know how they think – they're territorial demons – and this, this is Slayer territory." He explained, starting to pace back and forth. "Likely as not they'll set up a nice little camp here. Hang around for a while. It's what I'd do. Hell, its what I did do, back when this all started." He paused. "Good times…"

"Spike?" Tara interrupted, shooting him a slightly disapproving glare.

"Hmm?"

"The point?"

"Ah, right – yeah. Well likely as not they'll be around a while – it's a status thing. Once their boss finds out there's a place with a powerful enough witch to take out a few of his lads, well…"

Spike spread his hands.

"How long?" Dawn asked, worry and fear bleeding into her eyes. "How long will they be here?"

"However long it takes for the message to sink in. Or at least until it gets boring. How many people live in Sunnydale?"

"Thirty-eight thousand." Willow told him, emerging from the basement door, holding Xander's arm for support. Her skin looked pale and pallid, and the circles under her eyes had darkened further. "Give or take a few hundred."

"Long enough," Spike surmised bluntly, clearly noting Willow's state but choosing not to remark on it. "There's enough sport to keep 'em busy for a while. Hellions Demons aren't the most creative blighters, but still."

"Well… the barrier worked then," Xander stated optimistically. "How long can we keep it up this time?"

Tara locked eyes with Willow. "Not as long as last time. Four hours, maybe five. I-it kind of depends on what they try to do to it"

Willow nodded sluggishly. "No time to lose. I'd better get to work on the-"

"No way Wil," Xander cut in. "You're taking a time out."

"Hey, I'm in charge remember!" Willow reminded him. "And… we don't have time for a nap right now."

"We're going to make time," Tara told her, with an uncharacteristic note of steel in her voice which seemed to catch everyone's attention. She crossed the room to take Willow's arm from Xander.

"I-I can take her from here," she informed him softly, and Xander's grip released in response. "I'll set her down on one of Buffy's training mats."

Xander and Dawn watched them head into the back with some concern. Appearing out of the gloom, Anya squeezed past the two witches obliviously, an axe in one hand whilst laboriously dragging a large wooden chest behind her with the other.

"Where are they?" Anya demanded, raising her axe. "I got the weapons. You know, to kill with."

Xander just smiled and gave her a thumbs up. "Good job honey. You can uhhh, you can put down the sharp things now."

He noticed Anya's jaw had dropped as she first saw the destruction which had wrecked her store-front.

"Any time now Ann."

Xander gave up. "So," he began, turning to Spike and clapping his hands together. "You gonna go carry that robot up here or?"


Buffy awoke.

Her vision was clouded by static and distortion, and her ears rang with a deafening whine. After a few moments, she thought she could make out a familiar voice, and colour began to paint the clearing images.

"Willow," Buffy stated simply, seeing her friend seemingly tinkering with something around her temple.

"Hi there Buffy," she said with a tired smile. "How do you feel?"

"Willow," she repeated. "Where did I go?"

"Go? You didn't go anywhere silly. Your battery just got a little low. Well, actually all the way low. What's the last thing you remember?"

"Spike," Buffy replied dreamily, causing Willow to raise an eyebrow.

"Before Spike…" she clarified.

"The demons tied me up," Buffy explained with a slight pout. "you couldn't fix me, so I got all confused. Then I fell over."

Willow sighed, turning to face someone behind her. "Okay, this time I should really fix that part of her programming…"

"I-is that a good idea?" Tara's voice asked. "I mean, we've already added so much to what she was meant for, yknow? Couldn't this just make it… you know, worse?"

Willow shook her head. "I wouldn't be adding any more programs, just maybe let her choose between them a little more",

"Can she do that?"

Willow shrugged. "There's a lot about Buffybot's central processor I still don't really understand Tara. But she can ask questions and stuff, make some kinds of choices. I'm sure with a little work we can tweak it a little more."

"Willow?" Buffy asked, creasing her brow in concentration.

"mmm?"

"I still can't move."

"Oh, well don't worry Buffy, we haven't finished fixing you just yet. I just wanted to check your power systems, and make sure everything's okay up here." Willow said with a grin, tapping Buffy's forehead.

Buffy raised her eyes, attempting to see what Willow was pointing at.

"Your cognitive functions," Willow clarified, and Buffy nodded in understanding.

"I'll just need to switch you off again for a while. Don't worry, before long you'll be as good as…" Willow hesitated, seemingly unable to finish the sentence. "You'll be fine Buffy."

Buffy heard a switch flick, and then nothing.


"Willow!" Buffy cried, as her friend walked through the door, knocking over a table whilst trying to rush towards her. Spike half-dived to catch it before the china vase atop it fell swiftly to its doom, just as Buffy promptly headbutted the living room wall instead.

"What happened?" Willow asked, grabbing Buffy's arm and guiding her back into the room. "Where's Dawn?"

"Dawn's fine." Spike reassured her, noticeably moving to avoid Buffy's touch as Willow guided her unsteady path towards the couch. "She's upstairs in bed. But it seems the bot here got into a scrape while she was on patrol."

Buffy nodded in agreement. "I think my feet are broken."

"Looks more like a short in the navigational system." Willow corrected her, sitting Buffy down before turning to Spike. "Can you get me the flashlight? It's in the kitchen."

"She wanted to go out again and look for you," Spike began, wandering towards the kitchen. "But I figured there are enough things in Sunnydale that go bump in the night..."

"Good thinking," Willow called out approvingly, as she began to inspect the damage on Buffy's cranial components.

"But my homing device locates you when I'm injured. I'm programmed to go to you!" Buffy reminded her, concerned at the contradiction.

"I know." Willow acknowledged, lifting Buffy's shirt and opening the panel on her lower torso and plugging in her USB. "Still, just this once it was a good idea to stay put. Spike was right."

That made sense. It was Spike after all. Buffy turned to look at him again as he handed the flashlight to Willow. She couldn't help but smile.

"I'm sorry I questioned you Spike." Buffy apologised sheepishly. "You know I admire your brain almost as much as your washboard abs..."

Spike's eyes slowly dropped to the floor. Raw pain seeped unmistakeably into his expression, and his hands tightened into fists. Buffy felt something. Something… wrong. She knew that much.

"I told you to make her stop doing that," Spike demanded of Willow, refusing to look at Buffy any further.

"I did. I mean, I thought I got all that stuff out of the program-"

"Well, you've got her opened up - fix it." Spike told her curtly.

Willow was right. Buffy was largely aware of the changes in her programming, but she still remembered, remembered how she began. With Spike.

"Sure. I mean I've got a lot of work here… but I'll see what I can do." Willow assured him.

Buffy's eyes followed him as he left. She wanted to know, to understand exactly what had changed between them. He had liked her once. He had wanted her, and more than anything she had wanted to please him. Her purpose had changed, but her past had not.

"Can you point the flashlight here?" Willow asked him, before finally noticing Spike vanishing out of the door. "Spike?"

"Did I say something wrong?" Buffy asked.

"No, its not your fault." Willow replied, only looking Buffy in the eye for a moment before continuing to modify her code.

"I think Spike stopped liking me," Buffy admitted, traces of distress leaking into her voice. Willow stopped. She looked at Buffy for longer this time, surprise written on her face.

"No, that's not true…" Willow tried to assure her, blinking rapidly as she spoke. "He thinks you're swell."

Buffy decided to probe a little further. "Then how come he never looks at me anymore? Even when he's talking to me?" There was a plea in her eyes.

"He just gets cranky." Willow told her dismissively. "Like vampires do."

Buffy trusted Willow. Yet her response did little to allay her fears. He did not think she was swell. He wouldn't look at her, couldn't bear to touch her. Buffy was about to tell Willow so, but she didn't get the chance before her friend got there first.

"Now just relax," Willow instructed her, as Buffy began to feel the new streams of code rewriting her system. "I'm going to make you good as new."

"I promise I am."

Buffy smiled at that, though she wished Willow would have looked her in the eyes when she said it.


"They know where we are now," Xander pointed out, appealing to the other scoobies who gathered around the table. "So its pretty obvious we can't stay here."

"Blatantly obvious some might say," Spike added, lighting a cigarette.

Dawn frowned at him "Won't you set off the fire alarm?"

"Not anymore I won't," he shot back coyly. "I say sod waiting. Grab the robots, grab Wil, sod off somewhere else before Hells' Angels lay siege to the place."

Xander looked at him quizzically. "Weren't you the one who suggested the whole forcefield thing in the first place?"

"That was then, this is now. Long term planning's never really been my thing, mate. Living from moment to moment, that's more my style. Forcefield stopped those demons from having their way with you, so be grateful."

"There's another option." Anya highlighted. "Though after what you've done to my store less than two days since I got it… I don't think any of you deserve to get out of here alive."

"Anya…" Xander implored her. "Please."

She pouted her lower lip slightly. "Fine. There's a trap door in the basement. I didn't want to say it in front of… him." She motioned to Spike.

"Me?" Spike asked, clearly amused. "Why me?"

"You steal things." Anya clarified bluntly. "Now the merchandise is at risk. And its all your fault Xander."

Xander's expression was a fitting combination of bewilderment and resignation.


The training room had swiftly transformed into a workshop. Willow was knelt over the Buffybot, safety goggles covering her eyes and with a soldering iron in hand. An assortment of tools lay around her, wrenches and screwdrivers facing in every direction. The intact hip and shoulder joints had been taken from April, and were now being evaluated by Willow before she began to steadily attach them to the intact sections of the Buffybot's torn legs.

"Willow, I really think you should still be resting." Tara suggested, concern laced into her voice. "You went through a lot earlier, I saw what that ritual did to you…"

"Tara, I'm fine." Willow replied coldly, before letting out a sigh. "I'm sorry… I just… I just need to do something. If I stop, I'll just start thinking about…" She shuddered slightly. "Please, just let me do this."

Tara took a deep breath, before nodding. "Alright. But take it easy. And the first chance we get, you're going to eat something," Tara threatened her with a pointy finger.

"Is that my toolbox?" Xander asked as the door closed behind him, in a tone which clearly indicated her knew the answer.

"I didn't think you'd mind, given the circumstances," Willow replied, a lukewarm smile on her lips.

"Well, I don't as it happens. But I do happen to remember leaving it at home…" He exchanged a knowing look with Tara.

"I take it that forty-five-minute powernap was a good one, huh?"

"It did its job," Willow replied absently.

"So, how's it all looking there Wil?"

"Well, it's not pretty, that's for sure. But let me tell you, it's not nearly as irritating as trying to get her head back on. It's a lot less complicated."

"That's something then," Xander agreed, rubbing his hands together awkwardly.

"Yeah. That's something." She melancholically echoed. "At least there's one version of Buffy I might be able to fix…"

"That wasn't your fault Willow," Tara assured her, running a hand over her partner's back comfortingly.

"There's really nothing we can do about that urn? There's… no way at all?" Xander asked her, and Tara just shook her head.

"She's gone." Tara almost whispered, as if by saying the words she could break the spell of shock which still held them all.

Xander only allowed the silence that followed to hover for a few moments before feeling the need to fill it.

"So," he began, trying to rouse himself from the grief which festered within. "The rest of us have been trying to come up with what to do next."

"And whatcha come up with?" Willow asked, clearly trying to give the same impression.

"Well… the wise and wonderful Spike suggested we just drop the shield and make a break for it before we hear the sounds of Motorhead blaring from outside the walls…"

Willow turned away from her repair work, raising her goggles onto her forehead.

"Xander, you guys have been in there for nearly an hour. Please tell me that's not all y'came up with?"

"Thankfully not," Xander assured her, cocking his head with a jokey smile. "Anya says there's a sewer access down below. Last time I checked motorcycles don't drive down manholes."

"Better," Tara congratulated him. "But can we give it a bit longer? She still needs to gather her strength, and it'll be better for everyone if Buffybot can walk for herself."

Xander nodded. "I'll let the others know."