Final gift for jen_nsync_landl
Sorry for taking so long. I've been stranded at the cabin with a somewhat reluctant laptop and very family-time eager people.
Title:
Rating: PG
Summary: Willow needs to keep her hands busy.
Notes: for jen_nsync_landl , who among other things asked for post "The Gift" summer fic.
Dawn was the one that claimed they couldn't leave it, couldn't bury that last part; the only part she could keep. Nobody argued, too devastated and worn out by the shock of it all, and the pieces were quietly collected, bundled up and put away.
***
After the burial Willow constantly had something between her hands. At first it was Dawn, trying to comfort her the best she could, but in the end Tara was the one Dawn leaned on - soft hands and softer words, after all - and when that became too much for Dawn she turned to Spike.
Willow did household chores, helped cook and clean, all the while growing more and more restless. They were moving backwards, standing still at best. She needed to do something.
***
Everybody shied away from the BuffyBot, or so Willow thought until the day she noticed the cellar door slightly open, light shining through the crack. At the bottom of the stairs she found Dawn's tear-streaked face, a disembodied head cradled in her lap. Her big, wet eyes locked with Willow's, and she asked, pleading, "Can you fix her?"
Maybe it was irrational, but it was something she could do. And it wasn't as if they didn't need the help.
***
The BuffyBot managed to get through the first couple of trial outings. Just basic vamps, one at a time, but they turned to dust all the same.
It was working until it didn't. A pack on unexpected Ghanxs' saw to that. Demons never feel like sticking to the plan, no matter how long you spent on it. They're not much with the sensitivity.
***
And so Willow found herself putting the pieces back together a second time, working as fast as she could. Dawn had a very big freak-out when they returned with the broken illusion of her sister, and Willow quickly assured her she'd be up and working again in no time.
They brought it up the stairs this time, Willow preferring the well-lit rooms over the damp cellar, and the BuffyBot was laid out on the floor surrounded by tools and card-board boxes and stacks of books yet to be put away.
'In no time' was looking to be a couple of days off at least, judging by all the loose wiring, and before Willow knew what hit her she'd spent the entire night squinting at the circuitry, poking and prodding.
"Were you up all night?" Dawn was standing by the doorway, tainted red by the rising sun, her shadow slowly crawling up the wall behind her.
"Dawn. Hi." She ran a hand behind her neck, tilting it left then right.
"Is. Is it working?" she asked, quiet and uncertain, seeming to brace for an oncoming blow.
"Not yet, sweetie, but it will." Willow tried an encouraging smile, "I'm already half-way there."
"So you can fix her. You're sure."
Willow nodded, "I'll fix her."
Dawn slinked down the hallway, and Willow sighed, chewing on her lip. When had she begun referring to the BuffyBot as her? Willow was beginning to re-think having it in the house, Dawn was growing too attached to it. It couldn't be healthy. Maybe Giles could keep it locked away at the Magic Shop. It would never be out of mind, but out of sight could at least count for something.
But for now she needed to lie down, and the bed was just too far away. The spines of several arcane books were the last things she saw before closing her eyes, and when she dreamed she dreamed of magic and the power to set things right.
Title:
Rating: PG
Summary: Willow needs to keep her hands busy.
Notes: for jen_nsync_landl , who among other things asked for post "The Gift" summer fic.
Dawn was the one that claimed they couldn't leave it, couldn't bury that last part; the only part she could keep. Nobody argued, too devastated and worn out by the shock of it all, and the pieces were quietly collected, bundled up and put away.
***
After the burial Willow constantly had something between her hands. At first it was Dawn, trying to comfort her the best she could, but in the end Tara was the one Dawn leaned on - soft hands and softer words, after all - and when that became too much for Dawn she turned to Spike.
Willow did household chores, helped cook and clean, all the while growing more and more restless. They were moving backwards, standing still at best. She needed to do something.
***
Everybody shied away from the BuffyBot, or so Willow thought until the day she noticed the cellar door slightly open, light shining through the crack. At the bottom of the stairs she found Dawn's tear-streaked face, a disembodied head cradled in her lap. Her big, wet eyes locked with Willow's, and she asked, pleading, "Can you fix her?"
Maybe it was irrational, but it was something she could do. And it wasn't as if they didn't need the help.
***
The BuffyBot managed to get through the first couple of trial outings. Just basic vamps, one at a time, but they turned to dust all the same.
It was working until it didn't. A pack on unexpected Ghanxs' saw to that. Demons never feel like sticking to the plan, no matter how long you spent on it. They're not much with the sensitivity.
***
And so Willow found herself putting the pieces back together a second time, working as fast as she could. Dawn had a very big freak-out when they returned with the broken illusion of her sister, and Willow quickly assured her she'd be up and working again in no time.
They brought it up the stairs this time, Willow preferring the well-lit rooms over the damp cellar, and the BuffyBot was laid out on the floor surrounded by tools and card-board boxes and stacks of books yet to be put away.
'In no time' was looking to be a couple of days off at least, judging by all the loose wiring, and before Willow knew what hit her she'd spent the entire night squinting at the circuitry, poking and prodding.
"Were you up all night?" Dawn was standing by the doorway, tainted red by the rising sun, her shadow slowly crawling up the wall behind her.
"Dawn. Hi." She ran a hand behind her neck, tilting it left then right.
"Is. Is it working?" she asked, quiet and uncertain, seeming to brace for an oncoming blow.
"Not yet, sweetie, but it will." Willow tried an encouraging smile, "I'm already half-way there."
"So you can fix her. You're sure."
Willow nodded, "I'll fix her."
Dawn slinked down the hallway, and Willow sighed, chewing on her lip. When had she begun referring to the BuffyBot as her? Willow was beginning to re-think having it in the house, Dawn was growing too attached to it. It couldn't be healthy. Maybe Giles could keep it locked away at the Magic Shop. It would never be out of mind, but out of sight could at least count for something.
But for now she needed to lie down, and the bed was just too far away. The spines of several arcane books were the last things she saw before closing her eyes, and when she dreamed she dreamed of magic and the power to set things right.