escritoireazul

Title: We are the Naked Ones
Author: escritoireazul
Written for:

femslash_minis
Prompt: Buffy/Buffybot, dirty pictures, reprogramming, Angel
Soundtrack: Bush's "Chemicals Between Us" (title and summary from this) and "Machinehead"
Word Count: 1700 words
Rating: 16+
Setting: AU after BtVS season five
Author's Note: This is very, very, very late and for that I'm really sorry.

Summary: There is no lonelier state than lying in this bed.

The lights are really freaking hot. Sweat collects beneath Buffy's breasts, at the crease of her thighs, the bend of her knees. She tilts back her head, turning her face up, basking in the glow as if it's the sun.

A click and even brighter light flashes. She can hear BeBe moving around, lining up shot after shot. Unlike Buffy, BeBe's really good with the camera, can appreciate the angle and the lighting and the best way to capture bared flesh.

It's programming, that's all, microchips and memory cards and electronics whirring to life.

The bed bends when Bebe climbs onto it. Buffy spreads her legs and BeBe settles between her thighs, hooking her arms across Buffy's hips. Buffy tilts her head, glances down the length of her body at -- well, at herself.

"Don't look." BeBe grins, teeth bright, lips glossy. "Turn your head away."

Buffy stares at her a moment longer, then leans back her head again. The camera clicks again and she can imagine it, the way her breasts are thrust up because of the angle, the dark gold of her sun-kissed skin glistening.

"Pretty," BeBe says. She places one little hand on Buffy's stomach.

"Finished?" Buffy's voice doesn't shake. She has better control than that, even when desire sparks in her cunt and her clit throbs.

A cool finger trails across Buffy's stomach, circling her belly button, swinging lower and lower with each sweep.

Then BeBe presses her mouth against the inside of Buffy's thigh; Buffy lets the quiet sigh escape. BeBe deserves that much at least. She likes to listen, likes the sounds of sex.

Programmed, reprogrammed, designed.

Buffy looks down at her. BeBe sets aside the camera and licks the crease of Buffy's hip, working her way from the outside to the inside. Buffy spreads her legs wider apart, giving her more room.

"We make good pictures," BeBe says. She nips the inside of Buffy's thigh, perfect white teeth leaving a perfect little mark.

"Which we will look at and show Angel and then erase."

BeBe giggles. It's weird, because it sounds like Buffy but not like her all at the same time. "I know the rules." She licks her fingers, little pink tongue darting across her skin, slicking it up, then thrusts them inside, three at once, not even taking the time to work Buffy up to it.

"Fuck." Buffy tips back her head again, groaning, and she can feel BeBe giggle again as she puts her mouth to Buffy and licks a long line up her cunt, lingering at her clit. She curls her fingers inside, a come hither motion that nearly shakes Buffy apart.

BeBe's talking, saying something, but all Buffy can hear is the rush of her blood in her veins, the pleasure surging through her body. BeBe talks a lot, her tone bubbly and bouncy and bright, and though Buffy doesn't bother to make out the words, it carries her through BeBe's tongue on her clit, one hand curled inside her body, one hand on her breasts, nails on her nipples.

Her body clenches and shakes and as the orgasm washes through her, she opens her eyes stares down the line of her body, down into her own face, both of them twisted up with pleasure.

#

"Why did you salvage it?" Buffy snaps.

Willow flinches, but doesn't duck her head, doesn't slump her shoulders, doesn't look away. "We needed a Slayer," she says, holding her ground. "We needed Buffy."

"That's not me!" She crosses her arms over her chest, alternating her glares between Willow and the damn sexbot. "That's not a Slayer."

"She's what we had." Willow shoves her hands in her pockets, but she doesn't back down.

"I died. There was a new Slayer somewhere."

"Sure. In prison. Named Faith." Willow jerks her hands out of her pockets, rubs the sides of her thighs. One hand drifts to the back of her neck, but still she doesn't duck her head, slump her shoulders, turn away. "You already died once, Buffy. That activated Kendra. When Kendra died, that activated Faith. Your death isn't the catalyst anymore."

Buffy opens her mouth, but she can't really argue with it. She doesn't know if Willow's right. Sort of it doesn't matter, because she didn't ask for this. She paid her dues, she did her time, she sacrificed everything and yet here she is, expected to give even more.

"That is not a Slayer." Buffy jabs one finger toward the sexbot. "That is not me."

#

"You were dead." Angel's voice breaks. He's so big and so strong and so freaking old, sometimes it's easy to forget that emotionally, he's pretty fragile and young. He bends his body in half, pressing his face into her lap, those broad shoulders far wider than her thighs. She strokes his hair, lets him shudder against her, lets him shake, and if he's crying, he's quiet about it.

Around them, the cemetery is silent. Probably there are monsters out there in the darkness, but that's fine, there are monsters here, too, one breaking down, one numb. Both died multiple times. One came back from hell, one from heaven.

Buffy's breath catches. She hasn't admitted it to anyone, not a whisper of her worry, because it will make them feel bad. Because it will make them sick with guilt.

Because maybe they won't actually care, their need was too great.

Angel clings to her and Buffy holds him through the darkness.

#

"Hi, I'm BeBe." It's a ridiculously perky name, said in a ridiculously perky voice, and paired with a ridiculously perky smile, all white teeth and glistening lips and head cocked just a little to the right.

Buffy hesitates in the doorway. Her stomach grumbles at her again, but she's not sure she wants to find something to eat, not with it sitting at the high breakfast bar like it's really a person.

"BeBe?"

"Buffy-Bot was a mouthful." It's still grinning. "And I'm not Buffy."

"No you are not." Buffy's voice is cold, but its smile doesn't dim.

"No I am not," it agrees. "But our friends needed me."

"My friends needed me," Buffy snaps.

"Yes." Its smile is slightly less bright, but there's something so gentle and knowing in her eyes Buffy's breath catches. Its eyes. Damn it. "But you weren't here."

There's a mix of sadness and guilt twisting her stomach. She's definitely not hungry any more.

#

It's twisted and weird and probably very wrong, but Buffy really likes to watch the thrust of Angel's dick into BeBe's arching body. She likes feeling it inside herself, of course, that's to be expected, but there's something deliciously twisted about watching her doppelganger fuck Angel, at hearing the pleasure sounds that are almost just like Buffy's but not quite. She leans closer, getting in the way so she can bite BeBe's nipples, palm her ass, help set the pace as BeBe rides Angel with abandon.

Angel's eyes are all for Buffy and she holds his gaze while he comes.

#

"That thing," Buffy says when she speaks about it.

"BeBe," it corrects. "I have a name."

"You are nothing." Buffy crosses her arms over her chest. "You are a thing."

There's that look in its eyes again, knowing, almost human. Fully human. Impossible things.

"I was created for one thing," it says. "But I am something else now."

Did Willow program it to be human? Could she do it again?

#

Buffy kisses Angel in the doorway. Outside, the sun is rising. In a second, he will need to flee to the darkness of the basement, but for that one, precious moment, she wraps her arms around him and kisses him. He's as steady as ever, cool and calm, his chest silent against hers.

She craves the peace of him, not because he reminds her of who she was at sixteen, but because he knows everything, all her dark secrets, and still he looks at her with eyes that see beyond what she is and what she is supposed to be

#

That thing sits down next to Buffy. Together the two of them stare at Buffy's grave.

"I wasn't made for this." Not that she knows what this is. Not that it will understand.

It takes Buffy's hand. She tenses, but it feels nice, soft and cool. She almost can't stand the heat of human touch -- Willow tries to hug her or Dawn cuddles close and she cringes away -- but craves contact at the same time. To ground her. To remind her that she's here, she's alive again, whether she wants to be or not.

They sit like that for hours and then Buffy sighs.

"Thanks," she says. Hesitates. "BeBe."

#

Buffy cradles the phone against her shoulder so she can flip through the pictures on the camera with one hand and stroke her fingers across BeBe's breasts with the other. "She got some great shots, really sexy."

"You're always sexy," Angel's voice rumbles in her ear.

"Well of course." Buffy laughs and BeBe giggles along with her, fitting together into a melody. BeBe skims her hand along Buffy's side, then pushes at her until she can palm Buffy's ass. "When are you coming up?"

"Soon." She can hear pages flip. "We've got lots of work here, but soon."

"Soon is good."

"Sooner is better," BeBe chirps, then wiggles the tip of one finger into Buffy's ass. Buffy makes a strangled noise and rolls away, giving BeBe better access.

"Tell me what she's doing," Angel asks, his voice quieter, lower. It makes her skin crawl in a delightful way.

"Get up here and see for yourself," Buffy teases. BeBe pushes her finger all the way inside and Buffy cries out.

"Soon," Angel promises. A door shuts sharply. "Where's she touching you?"

Buffy licks her lips, her bare lips, no lipgloss and no lipstick, the antithesis to BeBe's glossy perfection. She'll find her voice in a moment and tell him all about it, the way BeBe's body bends against hers, the way each touch feels so good, and she'll picture him palming himself, wrapping his big hand around his dick and keeping a slow, steady pace until he hears her come.

BeBe rises up long enough to kiss Buffy, an easy, knowing kiss, almost human.

"Can you learn to be human?" Buffy asks.

BeBe smiles and ticks through her programming.