![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
snoggedHere comes another extremely rare pairing from my ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
femslash_minis challenge that somehow managed to tantalize my muse.
Title: Shock Therapy
Author: snogged
Disclaimer: Joss Whedon and Co. own the characters of Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel the Series. I don’t.
Pairing: Gwen Raiden/Buffybot
Word Count: 1292
Overall Rating/Highlight for Warnings: FRT-13/PG-13; **hurt/comfort, adult language**
Setting: Set before Angel 4.02 - Ground State
Summary: Gwen is hired for an unusual mission.
Beta: the spectacular![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
snowpuppies who also helped me to figure out a good way to make this seem somewhat in line with canon.
A/N: Written forbrutti_ma_buoni who requested Buffybot/Gwen Raiden, after the disaster, electrical failures, and common interests for Round 40 at femslash_minis. I'm not sure if this is quite what you had in mind, hun, but I hope you enjoy it anyways.
Shock therapy.
Also known as the fine art of treating the morons who mess you with a blue-hot, 1000 volt electrical surge to the chest…
…or in the case of her new assignment, bringing broken limbs of circuitry wrapped in cyber-skin back to life.
It wasn’t that her new task was all that difficult. After all, she’d spent nearly the last decade honing her skills as a thief for the freakier corner of the Black Market and she’d become quite adept at picking up the oddest shit: the amulet of Hathoria, the statue of R’Michl’Din, the seeing eye of Nervis.
But it was hard to believe that some mangled robotic wreck kept in an underground storage locker could possibly have any monetary value- let alone sentimental value- to a dark-haired man who waved his fancy lawyer business card in her face for a good three seconds before telling her what this was all about.
His pretentious attitude had annoyed the fuck out of her given her experience working with Wolfram and Hart in the past. It made her long for the days of Lindsey McDonald and his smooth talking moral ambiguity. She may not have trusted him as far as she could throw him, but at least he hadn’t treated her like a child or tempted her to remove her black satin opera gloves and give the tops of his knuckles a nice warning shock. Twenty-five volts would probably be enough to get him to shut the hell up.
But the moment the guy had placed the check in front of her, she forgot about the violence, forgot about the scoffing remarks. The number of zeroes behind a curvaceous, ink-black ‘5’ had nearly made her eyes bulge out of her skull. Clearly the pile of pieces they were in the mood to obtain were something damn special.
Either that or this douche was in the mood to purchase damaged sex toys on the company credit card.
Perv.
Didn’t stop her from nodding her head in agreement ‘cause you know what they say: one man’s twisted fetish was another man’s new pair of blaze-red leather pants. Or, you know, woman’s.
--
You’ll be compensated when you put her back together again.
Recovering the ‘bot had been a snap after she’d shut down the power to the elevator and the security cameras with the touch of her fingers. All it took was a simple rappelling descent down the shaft, followed by a combination so easy to hack that her grandmother could have done it.
Reassembly, on the other hand, felt like a whole new world of what-the-fuck-ery. She had no engineering training, whatsoever, and it wasn’t like there was a manual or anything. Her only hope was that the skill set she had in her tight back pocket would be enough to do the trick.
She started small, picking up the left hand and the section that thankfully still had the left wrist intact. Taking a breath, she removed her glove and closed her hand around the fleshy pink, albeit slightly dusty, segments. As always, electricity sparked through her, channeling itself into the severed wires and singeing them back together.
If she’d been in Humpty Dumpty’s corner, the egg probably would have lived to see another day instead of being broken further by some horses who just wanted to help.
That part of the rhyme had never made sense to her. Nor had it really made sense to her that she was capable of killing and saving with the same touch.
But she wasn’t about to start over-analyzing it, not when she was in the middle of giving new form to something that had been quite beautiful. Power wouldn’t fix the matted blonde hair, though, or make the skin smoother. Didn’t matter what way Gwen melted the wires and flesh. The automaton would always look like a patchwork ragdoll.
Would always look like a freak.
Just like her.
At least they had that in common.
Gwen sighed heavily, reaching for the head, the last piece of her puzzle. She balanced it on the column of the ‘bot’s throat and instantly felt the circuits bond together. Half a second later, Gwen saw the girl’s eyelids flutter, revealing pretty, green Barbie-esque eyes. This was followed by the slightly parting of perfectly molded, bubblegum pink lips.
“Hey,” Gwen offered, briefly considering pulling out her tube of scarlet red lipstick and giving the machine a makeover.
The robot blinked in confusion and tilted her head. “I’m Buffy.” She paused, her body vibrating slightly as she looked down at her crudely attached hands. “Was I dead? Did vampires kill me? I’m supposed to slay them, but I think they hurt me. Do you know who hurt me?”
Although Buffy spoke with the raspy, breathy tone used by many of today’s porn stars, Gwen felt suddenly willing to rule out sex toy. It was far more likely that someone got off on installing a crazy chip in her brain.
“Nope. You were broken when I found you,” Gwen replied.
“And you fixed me?” Buffy asked, her face splitting into an awkward, lopsided grin.
“Yes,” Gwen answered.
Buffy responded by throwing her arms around Gwen’s neck and dragging her into a breast-smushing, bone-crunching hug. Gasping for breath, Gwen reacted by pressing her hands against the robot’s back. Before she could blink, the surge coming off her fingers entered into Buffy’s skin and the machine went into instant shut-down and tipped backwards.
Just in time for all the muted white dome lights to go off too.
Dammit!
“Perfect,” Gwen grumbled, sarcasm dripping from her tone. “Just perfect.”
She wagered all the electricity she’d produced putting Buffy back together had triggered a surge in the building and freaked out the breakers. Frustrated at this turn of events, Gwen slumped to the floor and extended her hand into the darkness, placing her palm on Buffy’s still chest.
As Buffy returned to existence again, Gwen withdrew her fingers and slid her hands back into her gloves.
“It’s dark,” Buffy cooed, stating the obvious. “Are we going on patrol now? So I can slay the vampires?”
Gwen shook her head, wondering if she was going to get Buffy to talk about something other than fangers. Didn’t this girl know Dracula was a myth?
“Nope. We’re gonna take you to a nice corner office with a pretty window and some really nice folks are going to make sure you get a happily ever after or some perky shit like that.” Gwen replied, putting priority back on what she was sent here to do. …And I’m gonna get paid and go back to leading my semi-charmed life.
“That sounds nice,” Buffy mused. “Will you be there, too?”
“I...” Gwen started, a frown creasing her features. The gentle inquiry reminded her of the boy, the boy who’d come up to her and offered his truck without fear. The boy who’d stepped up to the Grim Reaper and held her hand. She’d learn the hard way that having friends was never going to be a thing for her.
But as the lights flickered back on and she caught the warm look in Buffy’s wide eyes. There was a brightness and genuineness there that touched her heart, even if this mechanical chick was 10 degrees South of crazy. Besides, it would be easy to keep a friend around who wouldn’t die instantly from her touch and she didn’t really mind having to do a reboot every once awhile.
Granted, Wolfram and Hart’s policy might cause a few snags in their relationship, but they could cross that bridge when they came to it.
“Of course, I will.”
Shock therapy.
The fine art of feeling temporary normalcy from a constant state of freak.
femslash_minis challenge that somehow managed to tantalize my muse.Title: Shock Therapy
Author: snogged
Disclaimer: Joss Whedon and Co. own the characters of Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel the Series. I don’t.
Pairing: Gwen Raiden/Buffybot
Word Count: 1292
Overall Rating/Highlight for Warnings: FRT-13/PG-13; **hurt/comfort, adult language**
Setting: Set before Angel 4.02 - Ground State
Summary: Gwen is hired for an unusual mission.
Beta: the spectacular
snowpuppies who also helped me to figure out a good way to make this seem somewhat in line with canon.A/N: Written for
brutti_ma_buoni who requested Buffybot/Gwen Raiden, after the disaster, electrical failures, and common interests for Round 40 at femslash_minis. I'm not sure if this is quite what you had in mind, hun, but I hope you enjoy it anyways.Shock therapy.
Also known as the fine art of treating the morons who mess you with a blue-hot, 1000 volt electrical surge to the chest…
…or in the case of her new assignment, bringing broken limbs of circuitry wrapped in cyber-skin back to life.
It wasn’t that her new task was all that difficult. After all, she’d spent nearly the last decade honing her skills as a thief for the freakier corner of the Black Market and she’d become quite adept at picking up the oddest shit: the amulet of Hathoria, the statue of R’Michl’Din, the seeing eye of Nervis.
But it was hard to believe that some mangled robotic wreck kept in an underground storage locker could possibly have any monetary value- let alone sentimental value- to a dark-haired man who waved his fancy lawyer business card in her face for a good three seconds before telling her what this was all about.
His pretentious attitude had annoyed the fuck out of her given her experience working with Wolfram and Hart in the past. It made her long for the days of Lindsey McDonald and his smooth talking moral ambiguity. She may not have trusted him as far as she could throw him, but at least he hadn’t treated her like a child or tempted her to remove her black satin opera gloves and give the tops of his knuckles a nice warning shock. Twenty-five volts would probably be enough to get him to shut the hell up.
But the moment the guy had placed the check in front of her, she forgot about the violence, forgot about the scoffing remarks. The number of zeroes behind a curvaceous, ink-black ‘5’ had nearly made her eyes bulge out of her skull. Clearly the pile of pieces they were in the mood to obtain were something damn special.
Either that or this douche was in the mood to purchase damaged sex toys on the company credit card.
Perv.
Didn’t stop her from nodding her head in agreement ‘cause you know what they say: one man’s twisted fetish was another man’s new pair of blaze-red leather pants. Or, you know, woman’s.
--
You’ll be compensated when you put her back together again.
Recovering the ‘bot had been a snap after she’d shut down the power to the elevator and the security cameras with the touch of her fingers. All it took was a simple rappelling descent down the shaft, followed by a combination so easy to hack that her grandmother could have done it.
Reassembly, on the other hand, felt like a whole new world of what-the-fuck-ery. She had no engineering training, whatsoever, and it wasn’t like there was a manual or anything. Her only hope was that the skill set she had in her tight back pocket would be enough to do the trick.
She started small, picking up the left hand and the section that thankfully still had the left wrist intact. Taking a breath, she removed her glove and closed her hand around the fleshy pink, albeit slightly dusty, segments. As always, electricity sparked through her, channeling itself into the severed wires and singeing them back together.
If she’d been in Humpty Dumpty’s corner, the egg probably would have lived to see another day instead of being broken further by some horses who just wanted to help.
That part of the rhyme had never made sense to her. Nor had it really made sense to her that she was capable of killing and saving with the same touch.
But she wasn’t about to start over-analyzing it, not when she was in the middle of giving new form to something that had been quite beautiful. Power wouldn’t fix the matted blonde hair, though, or make the skin smoother. Didn’t matter what way Gwen melted the wires and flesh. The automaton would always look like a patchwork ragdoll.
Would always look like a freak.
Just like her.
At least they had that in common.
Gwen sighed heavily, reaching for the head, the last piece of her puzzle. She balanced it on the column of the ‘bot’s throat and instantly felt the circuits bond together. Half a second later, Gwen saw the girl’s eyelids flutter, revealing pretty, green Barbie-esque eyes. This was followed by the slightly parting of perfectly molded, bubblegum pink lips.
“Hey,” Gwen offered, briefly considering pulling out her tube of scarlet red lipstick and giving the machine a makeover.
The robot blinked in confusion and tilted her head. “I’m Buffy.” She paused, her body vibrating slightly as she looked down at her crudely attached hands. “Was I dead? Did vampires kill me? I’m supposed to slay them, but I think they hurt me. Do you know who hurt me?”
Although Buffy spoke with the raspy, breathy tone used by many of today’s porn stars, Gwen felt suddenly willing to rule out sex toy. It was far more likely that someone got off on installing a crazy chip in her brain.
“Nope. You were broken when I found you,” Gwen replied.
“And you fixed me?” Buffy asked, her face splitting into an awkward, lopsided grin.
“Yes,” Gwen answered.
Buffy responded by throwing her arms around Gwen’s neck and dragging her into a breast-smushing, bone-crunching hug. Gasping for breath, Gwen reacted by pressing her hands against the robot’s back. Before she could blink, the surge coming off her fingers entered into Buffy’s skin and the machine went into instant shut-down and tipped backwards.
Just in time for all the muted white dome lights to go off too.
Dammit!
“Perfect,” Gwen grumbled, sarcasm dripping from her tone. “Just perfect.”
She wagered all the electricity she’d produced putting Buffy back together had triggered a surge in the building and freaked out the breakers. Frustrated at this turn of events, Gwen slumped to the floor and extended her hand into the darkness, placing her palm on Buffy’s still chest.
As Buffy returned to existence again, Gwen withdrew her fingers and slid her hands back into her gloves.
“It’s dark,” Buffy cooed, stating the obvious. “Are we going on patrol now? So I can slay the vampires?”
Gwen shook her head, wondering if she was going to get Buffy to talk about something other than fangers. Didn’t this girl know Dracula was a myth?
“Nope. We’re gonna take you to a nice corner office with a pretty window and some really nice folks are going to make sure you get a happily ever after or some perky shit like that.” Gwen replied, putting priority back on what she was sent here to do. …And I’m gonna get paid and go back to leading my semi-charmed life.
“That sounds nice,” Buffy mused. “Will you be there, too?”
“I...” Gwen started, a frown creasing her features. The gentle inquiry reminded her of the boy, the boy who’d come up to her and offered his truck without fear. The boy who’d stepped up to the Grim Reaper and held her hand. She’d learn the hard way that having friends was never going to be a thing for her.
But as the lights flickered back on and she caught the warm look in Buffy’s wide eyes. There was a brightness and genuineness there that touched her heart, even if this mechanical chick was 10 degrees South of crazy. Besides, it would be easy to keep a friend around who wouldn’t die instantly from her touch and she didn’t really mind having to do a reboot every once awhile.
Granted, Wolfram and Hart’s policy might cause a few snags in their relationship, but they could cross that bridge when they came to it.
“Of course, I will.”
Shock therapy.
The fine art of feeling temporary normalcy from a constant state of freak.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
on 2010-10-20 02:11 am (UTC)Are all y'all going out of town this weekend or something? Everybody's getting their stories in early!
This is delightful. Your Gwen is crisp and saucy, but with a really attractive tenderness, and your Bot is hilarious. Intriguing, sweet, a little bit sexy. Good job.
no subject
on 2010-10-20 02:19 am (UTC)I'm glad you found this entertaining and that you thought I captured Gwen and Buffybot well. I was especially worried about Gwen coming off right seeing as I've never tried her before.
no subject
on 2010-10-20 02:28 am (UTC)Hee. Well that sounds fun!
Your Gwen was outstanding. I would never of guessed it was your first time. (That's what she said. Sorry. I had to.)
no subject
on 2010-10-20 02:28 am (UTC)I knew you were my kinda person!
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on 2010-10-20 02:19 am (UTC)And I love that Gwen found a friend that she can't kill by touching!
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on 2010-10-20 02:21 am (UTC)And yep, Gwen merely has to reboot her every so often. :D
no subject
on 2010-10-20 03:08 am (UTC)Gabrielle
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on 2010-10-20 03:18 am (UTC)no subject
on 2010-10-20 03:37 am (UTC)no subject
on 2010-10-20 03:46 am (UTC)no subject
on 2010-10-20 07:29 am (UTC)no subject
on 2010-10-20 11:29 am (UTC)no subject
on 2010-10-20 07:50 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2010-10-20 07:52 pm (UTC)I really wanted to do this pairing justice and find a way to help it make sense in my head so I'm really glad it worked for you!
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on 2010-11-16 01:12 am (UTC)no subject
on 2010-11-16 01:22 am (UTC)As for the banner, the Willow and Spike image is a manipulation done as a gift for me by
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on 2010-11-16 09:13 am (UTC)no subject
on 2010-11-16 12:13 pm (UTC)