Chapter 7: Going Off-Script

In the briefest of moments, Buffy blinked the night away.

When her eyes flicked open once again, the room was filled with morning light, and Tara was looking down at her uncertainly.

"Morning Buffy," Tara greeted her with a polite smile, unplugging the power unit from her lower torso and sealing her access port before laying the cable gently on the floor.

"Good morning!" Buffy responded with an instinctual grin. "How are you today?"

"Oh, I'm fine," Tara assured her, furrowing her brow. "W-Willow and I wanted you downstairs, is that alright?"

"Of course!" Buffy insisted, sitting up sharply and manoeuvring herself to the edge of the bed. As she rose, Tara placed a hand on Buffy's shoulder, motioning for her to sit.

"But before that – can we talk for just a sec? It's about last night."

Buffy's smile fell from her face as she accessed the relevant memory files. The intense pain on her sister's face. The something she had felt when she saw Dawn flee from her.

"I had a talk with Dawn." Tara explained. "She was… pretty shaken up."

"I know." Buffy affirmed. "She was very upset. I must have said something very wrong."

"Buffy… what were you doing walking around so late?" Tara asked carefully. "It's not like Willow to just forget to shut you down."

"That is true," Buffy agreed. "But lately Willow has been telling me to put myself to sleep. I can do it very easily."

"Oh," Tara replied, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. "Then why didn't you?"

Buffy paused for a moment. Ever since her final confrontation with the Hellions demons, she had become aware of the extent of her new programming; the choices she could make.

"I did not want to." She admitted finally. "There was something I wanted to do. I needed time."

Tara seemed taken aback at that.

Reading her expression, Buffy was quick to apologise. "I'm sorry. I won't do it again." She promised.

Tara shook her head. "Buffy… it's not that you did something wrong exactly, it's just… I guess we should have expected that you…" She closed her eyes for a moment, gesturing with her hands. "You know what? It doesn't matter right now."

"Is Dawn okay?" Buffy asked.

"Dawn's doing fine." Tara assured her, lowering her hand to place it atop Buffy's. "She's headed out to the mall with Janice– it'll help clear her head."

"I am glad." Buffy informed her. "Friends are very important. But I would still like to make it up to her."

"Well…" Tara considered thoughtfully, "you can help me make dinner later if you want? I thought we might try and make Dawn's favourite pizza for when she gets back."

Buffy's face lit up with delight. "I would like that - very much. Can I bring it to the table?"

Tara smiled kindly at her. "I don't see why not…"

And just like that, Buffy thought everything was alright again.


Dawn smiled half-heartedly as Janice emerged from the dressing room, modelling the sixth outfit in a row. She made sure to say the right things, echoes of what her friend wanted to hear – her decision having been made before Dawn said a word. Still, Dawn had to play her role – Janice knew all the cool people, so the last thing Dawn wanted was her disapproval.

As Janice vanished into the dressing room once again, Dawn wandered deeper into the store. Passing through the jungle of clothing stands, filled to the brim with attire of every shape and description, she shortly found herself in the jewellery section. Figuring she still had another minute, Dawn eyeballed the earrings, necklaces and bracelets which lay out before her in several open-topped display cases. Absent-mindedly, Dawn lifted a particular silver necklace from the case, approaching the nearest mirror whilst fixing it around her slender neck. Dawn ran her finger along the rose pendant, before beginning to examine the ornate chain decorated with faux-thorns a few inches on each side.

Obeying a compulsion she couldn't quite explain, Dawn warily checked her surroundings. Content no eyes were on her, she undid the catch at the back of her neck, subtlety tearing off the tag before placing the necklace in the pocket of her denim jacket in a single smooth movement.

Dawn felt a rush, felt her heart pumping that little bit faster. The risk, the excitement was like a streak of colour across the grey despondency she had felt slowly growing inside herself these past months. Ever since her mother, and Buffy. Her confrontation with Buffybot the previous night had just brought it all to the forefront of her mind, and after she cried herself out in Tara's arms, she felt the cold once again.

She spotted Janice re-emerging from the cubicle, and so quickly crossed the shop floor to join her friend. Then she smiled, reading from the other girl's face that this skirt was particularly chic, and complimented her appropriately. And all the while, her fingers traced the edges of the rose, keeping the thrill alive.


The sun was just setting as Dawn started to make her way towards home.

After the mall closed around five, Janice had suggested they take a detour around the park before heading back along the streets. As they wandered along the earthen paths, passing through low-hanging autumn trees and winding around various ponds and hedges, the conversation predominantly revolved around planning the biggest imminent event on the social calendar; Halloween. Though it was still a few weeks away, Janice was breathlessly laying out what she wanted to happen, in particular bragging about the older boys she had snagged on the Sunnydale party circuit, in hopes of a possible after-dark rendezvous. She seemed to be testing Dawn, flashing her looks and signals that were seemingly intended to appraise her interest. As soon as Janice mentioned Justin's name however, Dawn was firmly on board. She didn't know him well. Okay, to be perfectly honest she didn't really know him at all. But their eyes had locked briefly at parties here and there, and she had felt the involuntary flutter in her chest that always followed that initial moment of connection.

However, just as the sky had begun to glow with hints of orange and red, the two girls emerged onto the roads once again. Soon enough, Janice was waving goodbye and turning off down her street, and Dawn was left alone to wander the silent sidewalk, hearing only the sounds of her footsteps on the stone beneath her. As the world around her gradually began to lose the light, Dawn felt a sense of unease creeping up on her. She took a moment to check the sidewalk behind her, releasing a long, calming breath as she saw nothing. Satisfied, she swivelled her head back around only to let out a startled gasp at the dark shape which suddenly loomed above her.

"Spike!?" She questioned breathlessly, as the blond vampire inhaled on his cigarette, blowing the smoke out from between his teeth.

"Shouldn't be wanderin' about this late little bit," he chided her. "Thought you would know better by now…"

"It's a five-minute walk from here Spike," Dawn pointed out, making a show of casually walking past him. "It's not even really dark yet…"

"Sun's low enough," Spike countered, lifting his arms and gesturing towards himself for a moment before turning to follow her. "It's not like you – not lately anyway. Thought the days of you charging straight into danger were behind you? Thought getting caught by the big bad over and over again had lost some of its appeal…"

"Leave me alone Spike…" Dawn demanded, crossing her arms as she continued to walk.

"We've done this dance before Dawn," Spike pointed out, overtaking her before stopping dead in her path, his long leather coat billowing out behind him. He placed two pale hands on her shoulders, his grip only tightening after her attempt to shrug him off.

"Big sis isn't around anymore little bit. So I'm not gonna tarnish her memory by letting the one thing she loved most get the Nobel prize for being a complete moron!"

Dawn's frown just deepened. "Buffy – that's all you see when you look at me, isn't it? You're not trying to protect me – you're just trying to hold on to her!"

Dawn actually felt physically sick, a nausea which came with the reminder of the superior place Buffy had always held in the lives of everyone around her.

Dawn grabbed both of Spike's wrists as if to emphasise the point, just as he finally allowed her to remove them.

"I can't just live my whole life thinking of what Buffy would want – what Buffy would do!"

With that Dawn petulantly stormed home, leaving Spike behind her, watching.


Once Dawn was safely off to school on Monday morning, Willow sprang into action.

She didn't want Dawn to have to worry about anything surrounding their financial conundrum – she had enough on her plate as it was.

Sitting on the couch beside Buffybot, Willow lifted the shoulder of her flowery white dress, examining the synthetic skin beneath. She ran her finger delicately over the barely visible seams where Willow had transplanted sections from April a few days previously, searching meticulously for flaws or discolouration.

"How's she looking?" Tara asked.

"Not bad," Willow assessed. "And it seems like the chemical dye did what is was supposed to. At worst, someone might think she has a couple scars." Willow lowered her eyes for a moment. "You sure you want to go with that dress Buffy?"

Buffybot nodded vigorously. "It's very pretty. Is it not correct?"

"It'll do fine," Tara assured her, crossing her arms. "Do you want to go and do your hair quickly? It's best if… well if you look your best."

Buffybot rose from the couch, swiftly walking to the stairs before vanishing onto the floor above. Willow watched her go, an almost melancholic expression on her face.

"What's wrong Wil?" Tara asked, clearly picking up on her girlfriend's mannerisms. "You think she should wear something else?"

"It's not that, I'm sure it's smart enough for a loan application. It's just… it's not exactly very 'Buffy', is it?"

"Buffy did own it," Tara pointed out. "But even so; it is very Buffybot, don't you think? All bright and… kinda sweet?"

Willow considered it for a moment. "I don't know. The whole point of having the Buffybot is that she, yknow, acts like Buffy. Not sure how I feel about her suddenly going off-script…"

Tara smiled coyly. "Since when has she ever been on-script?"

"Fair point..." Willow conceded with a small smile. "We got everything?"

Tara held out the document file to her. "We do. She'll do fine Wil. We've explained how important this is."

Willow looked profoundly sceptical, worry blooming in her eyes. "What if they don't even let us in there with her? What if she says something and all of a sudden they're calling round to the school, or telling the authorities Buffy isn't fit to look after Dawn?"

Tara interrupted the building cyclone of panic, pulling Willow in for a quick kiss and placing her warm hands against Willow's flushing cheeks. The rush of feelings her touch brought seemed to pacify the storm of worry in her mind for a moment.

"I just don't think that will happen Wil. And if it does… well, then we'll deal with it. One step at a time, like we always have. We'll be strong."

"Strong like an Amazon?" Willow asked sweetly.

Tara pulled her in for another chaste kiss.

"Absolutely."


The October sun still shone down with considerable heat as the three women walked into town. Only the slightest edge of chill in the breeze gave away the fact that Summer was behind them.

Tara and Willow walked either side of Buffy as they traversed the criss-cross of sidewalks into the heart of Sunnydale, mostly in order to ensure she didn't suddenly get the urge to wander off. No matter how often she went out during the day, Buffy always seemed to observe the world around her as though she were seeing it for the first time. Birds flying overhead would cause her to stop and turn, passing cars and bikes would catch her eye, and above all she seemed utterly fascinated by people.

Tara found the experience rather surreal, as if suddenly gaining a glimpse into how a parent watches their young child interact with the world. Especially with Willow at her side.

But then again, you didn't usually have to take a toddler to arrange a major financial transaction.

The bank was bristling with activity. Whilst Tara held a few seats in the waiting area, Willow and Buffy joined the queue which snaked throughout the room. Ten minutes passed sluggishly. The growing irritation on Willow's face contrasted sharply with the blind eagerness on Buffybot's. Eventually, they finally let the clerk know 'Buffy Summers' had arrived for her appointment.


The room to which the lady guided Willow and Buffybot was segregated into several office cubicles, each with a desk and chairs. Between the thin glass partitions, the cubicles were interspersed with more cushy waiting areas. Their escort guided them to one of the desks, motioning for Buffy and Willow to sit and informing them that one of the bank's representatives would be with them shortly. Willow began intertwining her fingers nervously as they waited. After a few moments, Willow noticed that Buffy seemed to be paying particular attention to what she was doing, creasing her brow thoughtfully for a moment before her hands began to imitate her.

"Carl Savitsky, loan officer." the small, balding man introduced himself, entering the cubicle from behind the two girls' chairs.

Willow promptly slapped Buffy's hands apart, as the bank representative confidently sat across the table from them. Buffy's face fell for a moment, before Willow made a show of flashing a quick grin, which Buffy quickly imitated. The large, round glasses the banker wore gave the slightest impression of a peering owl, and his severe black suit and muted red tie contrasted sharply against his attempt at a welcome smile.

Carl flipped open the leather binder on the desk in front of him, flicking through the pages for a moment before bringing his eyes up to the two women.

"Buffy Summers," he stated rhetorically. "That would be…"

"Me!" Buffybot exclaimed excitedly. "And this is Willow."

Carl smiled a little awkwardly, clearly taken aback by the boldness of her response.

"I see," he recovered after a brief moment, placing his interlocked hands on the desk. "Buffy… interesting name. Is that a nickname, or?"

"No," Buffybot pointed out. "Nick is not my name."

Willow started to feel the pangs of dread in her stomach. She was starting to really wish the bank had let Tara come through with them.

Carl let out a single breathy chuckle.

Willow joined him with a small, awkward laugh – gesturing over to Buffybot. "Oh Buffy… you… she's a real kidder this one…"

"I see," Carl answered again, clearly slightly uncomfortable. "This is just for the record you understand - Is Buffy your birth name, or is it short for something?"

Willow's eyes widened slightly.

Don't improvise Buffy, don't improvise don't…

"Buffalo." Buffy blurted out tactlessly. "Buffalo Summers."

Oh God.

Carl's mouth was just hanging slightly open now, his eyes creased.

"Buffy will do fine." He eventually replied, clearing his throat." So… umm… Miss Summers, it says here you've never applied for credit before - is that correct?"

After a brief glance from Willow, Buffybot nodded vigorously.

"Excellent. Did you bring the relevant files, some identification?"

Willow passed the document file across the table to Carl. He opened it promptly, pulling out Buffy's national identity card from the top of the pile of papers within, holding it up to the light and squinting briefly at Buffy. Then he nodded once in satisfaction, before beginning to delve through the list of financial records she and Tara had painstakingly put together.

"Ah." Savitsky halted in a worrying tone, raising his eyes to Buffy. "It appears we have… something of a tangle."

Willow began to twiddle her fingers once again. "Well… money's becoming a bit of an issue its true…"

Carl politely held out a hand to stop her. "You misunderstand me, Miss…"

"Rosenburg."

"You misunderstand me Miss Rosenburg," He said, before turning back to Buffy. "You see Miss Summers, the only collateral you have is your house – which has been losing equity over the past several years. For some reason, property values in Sunnydale have never been competitive…"

Willow didn't need to speculate on why that was the case.

"So I'm afraid refinancing just isn't an option."

Willow's heart sank.

"But we need money!" Buffybot insisted.

Carl gritted his teeth, before soldiering on nonetheless. "You see Miss Summers, you have no income. No job…"

"I do!" Buffybot countered self-righteously. "I have a job. I am the-"

The conversation was suddenly halted by an explosion of glass from the edge of the office cubicle, sending sharp fragments flying through the air, flooding the desk and covering Willow, Buffybot and Carl. After instinctually shielding her eyes, Willow looked up to see a horrific demon yelling a guttural war cry, stretching its scaly, muscled arms menacingly into the air, and the unconscious form of a security guard crumpled between the desk and the wall.

To Willow's eye, the creature looked like some sort of monstrous anthropoid shark, viciously sharp uneven yellow teeth bared below beady, vicious eyes. To her credit, Buffybot sprang into action immediately, rushing up to the screeching behemoth and skilfully parrying the first few wild blows the demon launched at her, before landing a few of her own.

The air was filled with frightened screams as Willow crouched down against the wall, reaching out with her mind.

Tara?

I'm here Wil. Security won't let anyone near the back – what's going on in there?

Demon attack. Buffybot's on it.

Do you recognise the species? Any weaknesses?

It has kinda bad teeth?

Noted. Anything else?

Working on it!

Willow's mental link with her partner was suddenly severed as Buffybot crashed through the desk in front of her. She lay in a wide-eyed daze amongst the wreckage for a moment, her white floral dress now torn and covered in sawdust. Willow then heard the sounds of several wild gunshots, freezing her to the spot for a moment before she peeked through the broken sheet of glass. She caught sight of the rampaging demon charging out of the fire door with one final, defiant roar, leaving devastation in its wake.

"Come back here!" Buffybot demanded indignantly, raising her head from the clutter and debris all around her. "We are not finished!"

Within a minute or so, Carl Savitsky emerged from behind one of the cubicle walls, trepidation heavy in his beady eyes as he ensured the monster was gone. Willow helped Buffy from out of the wreckage of Carl's desk, helping her brush herself down before the robot turned to face the still shaking loan officer.

"I saved you!" She pointed out tactlessly. "You are most welcome. Can I get my money now?"

From the slightly apologetic change in the man's face, Willow immediately knew that it was a vain hope.


"Well… on the bright side," Tara began brightly, "A loan was only a temporary fix anyway. There are other options."

"Maybe…" Willow pondered, her eyes distant. "Still Tara, after the whole 'saving his life' thing, you'd think he'd make some kind of exception."

"I don't think it works that way Wil," Tara replied apologetically. "I mean, he could have lost his job or something."

Willow shot her a playful look. "Yknow, this is usually the time when we hate him together. It's a best friend thing. Showing a united front of mutual loathing and trying to make me feel better."

Tara smirked back at her. "Not very grown up though, is it sweetie?"

"Don't see why we have to be a grown up all the time…" Willow shot back warmly. "So, anyway I had this idea…"

"mmhmm?"

"Well… we're obviously pretty busy with yknow, the college thing. And the demon fighting thing…"

Tara nodded.

"But Buffybot," Willow added, gesturing to the grinning robot striding several steps ahead of them. "Buffybot doesn't really have anything to do all day – Dawn's at school, we're in classes. Well, what if instead of turning her off we… got her a job."

Willow tensed, expecting a far more shocked reaction than the thoughtful look that passed across Tara's face.

"What would she do?" Tara asked, turning her gaze to follow Buffybot. At the moment, she had halted her slightly stiff march, her attention seemingly entirely enraptured by the sight of a group of small children swarming over a local playground. Buffy looked on, fascinated.

"Well – we'd have to train her up, but maybe… maybe she could clean?" Willow suggested. "Or fix stuff. Or something that involves lifting heavy objects – or maybe professional wrestling!"

Her last jest had the desired effect as Tara chuckled softly.

"What do you think?"

Tara pursed her lips for a moment. "Well… I'm not sure. She's like a kid really – all… bubbly, and fully of energy? Maybe she could work in a nursery or something."

Willow's eyes went wide, her face blanching slightly.

"Are you okay Willow?" Tara asked, her voice clearly showing she had picked up on Willow's reaction.

"Yeah!" Willow assured her unconvincingly. "I mean it's a nice idea Tara… But well – even if Buffybot could be trusted around some very, very fragile kindergartners, to work with little kids they… I mean the company has to do some pretty thorough background checks…"

"Right…" Tara acknowledged, motioning Willow to continue.

"Well... it's just that… at her old school - the one in L.A. – Buffy sort of… burned down the gym."

Tara blinked. "Oh."

"Then she comes to Sunnydale – she ends up missing lots 'o classes, pretty sure she was investigated for murder one time, one summer she just vanishes... and then at the end of three years here, the whole school goes… kaboom."

There was silence between them for a few moments.

"It doesn't look good, does it?" Tara admitted finally, earning a knowing look from Willow.

Tara tried to look optimistic.

"Maybe something else."