Doing the Right Thing

Chapter 9


Life was very, very good, Andrew thought. The Universe rewards those that stand for Good.

He sighed happily as strong hands glided massage oil over his back. He’d spent half the day at the computer, reconfiguring the Spikebot. Willow would be gone for days, and a Spikebot was made to serve. Since there was no Buffy around, Andrew had changed all the settings, so the Spikebot was now totally focused on him. He snickered. He was so naughty. But really, what was the harm? He could change the settings back to Buffy when she got back from Cleveland.

“Spike, would you hand me my iced cappuccino?”

“Yes, but I must wash my hands first, or the glass will be slippery.”

“Good thinking, Spike. That’s the kind of stuff that will make Buffy happy.”

The Spikebot got a worried expression on his face. “But I live to serve you, Master Andrew.”

“Of course you do, Spike, of course you do. But instead of washing your hands, why don’t you help me to the shower, and help me wash off this oil.”

“Great idea. Then we could watch a DVD together.”

“Exactly!”

Andrew felt wicked. He almost sent the Universe an apology. But he stopped himself. This wasn’t really Spike, under a thrall or something. This was a robot. His robot , for the next few days. And he was training it for Buffy, right? Buffy would want to take showers with it. He, Andrew, would train this Spikebot right!

“Why don’t you take off your clothes, Spike?” He said to the bot, who was washing his hands in the sink. “That way you can help me get the oil off my back.”

“Okay,” the Spikebot said. “Afterwards we can watch the telly.”

He smiled very nicely at Andrew, so nicely a little thrill ran through Andrew’s whole body.

Well, the real Spike would never look at me that way, he acknowledged. Wouldn’t look at anyone except Buffy like that. Well, maybe at Dawn, if she wasn’t being whiney. None of this is real, it is just entertainment.

Spikebot dropped his black jeans, and Andrew’s eyes got big.

Really, really entertaining.

“Y-You are really really well hung, Spike,” he gasped

“Thank you. I am an anatomically correct copy of Real Spike.” Spikebot took the compliment seriously. His crystal blue eyes roved over Andrew. “You are well hung, too, Master Andrew. So...delicate, and cute.”

Andrew gulped and stumbled into the shower. The Spikebot stepped in gracefully.

*****

Tara rested her aching head on the motel pillow and waited for the Advil to work. She didn’t like to take chemicals, but she’d had this headache since the memory ritual last night, and finally broke down and went to vending machine that had pain relievers, down by the soda machine.

The memory retrieval spell had worked, sort of. She did remember her name, Tara McClay. She remembered her family, her mom. In fact she remembered a lot of things about her childhood. Not too much about her last few years of life,though, and that included Buffy and Spike...and Willow.

Buffy had given her a picture of Willow, a cute red head. She did seem vaguely familiar. Kind of the feeling you got when a name was on the tip of your tongue, but Not. Quite. There.

Something was going on here in Cleveland. Something bad. Buffy and Spike had been all cooing and almost disgusting, while they had all watched a movie together in their room. Then there was the freaky fire hand thing. That took some getting used to.

But then a gorgeous but scary girl named Faith had a shown up.

“Heads up, gang. I heard from Wes in LA. Seems they’ve had an outbreak of Angelus.”

Buffy went a little white. Spike asked, “Who gave him the happy this time? Wolf girl.”

“Harmony.”

Buffy and Spike looked at each other and broke out into gales of laughter. Tara blinked in confusion.

“Sad thing is,” Spike said, wiping tears of laughter from the corners of his eyes. “We probably won’t get to deal with Harmony. Dru’s little birds” –he used his fingers for quotation marks–“will tell her that Daddy’s back.”

“Well, it seems Angelus and Harmony have some type of bond,” Faith said.

Spike snorted. “Can’t have a bond with a big pile of dust, now can you? Harmony is no match for Dru.”

“But how would Dru even find them? They flew the Wolfram and Hart jet to New York City,” Faith said

“Dru’s insane, not stupid.” Spike seemed certain. Faith did not look convinced.

Faith’s cell phone rang. “Yeah...okay...will do.”

“Some vampire just tortured and ate the jet maintenance crew at Wolfram and Hart.” She told them, sliding her phone back into her pocket.

Spike pursed his lips and raised his eyebrow in an ‘I told you so’ gesture.

“Okay, then,” said Buffy in a false bright tone. “We have Angelus and soon we’ll have Drusilla, all headed to Cleveland.”

After that there had been a flurry of activity. But not for Tara. She’d been sent to her motel room with a bag of snacks and a sack from McDonald’s for dinner.

Somehow, the snacks and burger seemed all wrong. Like not at all something she, Tara, would eat.

“Stay in your room. And don’t let anyone in, for any reason.” Spike said. “Not even motel staff.”

“I wish we had time to get you into an apartment, or a private home. Motels just aren’t as safe as private dwellings.” Buffy had looked quite worried.

“Yeah, and the Slayer house is going to be a major target, so that’s no use, ”Spike said.

Tara was pretty sure she didn’t want to live in something called a slayer house, anyway.

“If I got you a newspaper, do you think you could call some places, apartments? Don’t worry about the money. If we could get you into one tomorrow, far away from me and Buffy...it would be a good thing.”

Tara agreed to do that, though the idea of moving here permanently was a little daunting. It made her feel tired. She closed her eyes and tried to sleep. Maybe things would look better in the morning.