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Buffy got home late from patrol, feeling grimy and sweaty from the relatively minor fights, the heat lingering and burning like the few tastes of beer she’d had. She couldn’t stop thinking about what she’d seen. Willow and Xander and Cordelia… it was a strange pairing. A strange pairing and a half. As if Xander and Cordelia weren’t weird enough, throw Willow into the mix. Her and Cordelia, yeesh. What was it with her friends and that… cheerleader? She thought they’d all agreed she was horrible.

Well, I guess we didn’t agree she didn’t have awesome boobs.

Her mother was in the kitchen, sitting at the table, head down on her arms as she got a massage from Buffybot. 

“Hey mom,” Buffy said. “Ultron.”

“Buffy,” Joyce replied, eyes still closed in enjoyment of Buffybot’s chopping hands. “I left some food for you in the crockpot. You’re lucky, I was going to fridge it just as soon as Buffybot finished up.”

“Massage theoretically has health benefits, but cannot be said to be scientifically valid due to the impossibility of placebo-based and double-blind clinical trials,” Buffybot said. 

“I still don’t think I sound like that,” Buffy said, grabbing a bowl from the cupboard.

“How was patrol?” Joyce asked.

“Fine.” Buffy helped herself to a cravenly small portion. Fighting always gave her an appetite, and she overcompensated by not going in on a full plate, not wanting to gorge herself halfway through and then have to finish the meal. Plus, it was her mother’s cooking. “I saw Willow having a threesome with Xander and Cordy.”

“Cordelia Chase?” Joyce asked, lifting her head. “Well, Xander I can understand, those two have always been, uhh, what’s the Spanish—“

“Simpatico!” Buffy said with flair.

“Yes, that. But I thought Cordelia was something of a, you know—“

“Heinous bitch?” Buffybot offered. “Total ho? Stunning cunt?”

Joyce pushed her hands away. “Thank you, Buffybot, that’s enough. Why don’t you draw a bath for Buffy? She stinks.”

“Mooom!” 

“I’m sorry, dear, but it’s true. Heaven knows what smells you pick up walking through a graveyard, grappling with dead things—I don’t know how the goths put up with it. If I have to do your laundry, the least you can do is have a good soak.”

“I do my own laundry!” Buffy protested. 

“You mean when it doesn’t mysteriously disappear from your floor and reappear in your dresser?”

“I thought that was Buffybot.”

“Please. I can’t trust her to separate whites from colors. That’s what happens when you let a man build a robot. Once he’s got the boobs right, he’s satisfied…”

Buffy paused a moment as she heard water rumbling from the bathtub’s faucet, sloshing into the tub. She sucked on her spoon, then pulled it from her mouth. “Don’t you think it’s a little odd that Willow and Cordelia and Xander had a threesome?”

“How so, sweetie?”

“I don’t know. Just strikes me as weird, somehow.”

“Well, Buffybot may have had your friend Cordelia’s number, but—teenage hormones. I got into all sorts of trouble when I was their age.”

“Still…” Buffy tilted her head quizzically. “You don’t think there’s anything wrong with this picture?”

“Maybe you’re just a teensy bit jealous?” Joyce theorized sing-songedly. “Just remember, they don’t have a Buffy. Or a Buffybot, hint hint.”

“Mooom!”

“What? It’s what she’s there for. Enjoy it. I heard all you kids are supposed to practice self-love.”

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