Title: Gift of a Future 18/?
Author: Gileswench
Feedback: Constructive criticism always welcome. Praise abjectly sought.
Disclaimer: It all belongs to Joss, Mutant Enemy, etc., etc., etc. I just let them have all the fun Joss won't. I own nothing except my twisted mind which you really don't want. Please don't sue.

Ben pulled a shirt on over his head as he started down the staircase. He wanted nothing more in life than to get away from Glory's seamstress, Gronk. The bumpy female minion followed him, lamenting over the remains of the dress Ben had arrived in. This body switching was terribly wearing on Her Magnificence's wardrobe, and Ben continued in his stubborn refusal to aid Glory.

"This is terrible," she fussed. "I'll never be able to mend this."

"Not my color," Ben shrugged flippantly as he flopped onto the sofa.

"Oh yes, inappropriate humor," Gronk sniffed. "Very amusing. I don't suppose you know what led to this sartorial tragedy?"

"That's not how it works and you know it."

Ben wished the minion would stop talking to him. He wished he still had the knife he'd used on Jinx. He wondered if he'd killed the scabby minion, and what the reaction was when the body was found. But Gronk was still there, the knife was nowhere to be seen, and the demon seamstress was still fishing for information in what she no doubt considered a subtle manner.

"Yes, of course," she simpered. "I just thought maybe after her magnificent incandescence was returned to this...manly and...painfully handsome assemblage...you might have noticed something interesting? A key in human form, perhaps? Lounging about unattended?"

She sent a determinedly lustful gaze his way. Ben's stomach roiled at the sight.

"If I did, do you really think I would tell you?" he snapped.

"Why do you insist on fighting the inevitable?" Gronk asked. "No one can stand against her blindingly scrumptious luminescence."

"Glory," Ben spat. "Her name is Glory and she's your God, you little scab, not mine!"

"With all due respect and fear of sharp objects," Gronk grovelled, mindful of the state Jinx had been in when Ben last finished with him, "you exist, sir, only because of her divine greatness."

"You mean her divine failure, don't you?" Ben taunted her. Suddenly he got up and began to pace like a caged animal. "I didn't ask for any of this. I just wanted to be normal."

"We play the hand we're dealt," Gronk scoffed. She had no patience with Ben's difficult moods.

"Nothing's mine, is it?" Ben fumed. "This life, this body, it's all infected. The only thing I ever cared about she's taken away from me. You know why I wanted to be a doctor?"

"Flattering drawstring pants?"

"To be close to people. To witness their lives and their deaths, to be there alongside them, a part of everyday humanity. Maybe it's the drugs."

"Drugs, sir?"

"Find the right combination, keep her buried where she belongs."

Gronk followed in his wake now, distressed by the casual way Ben spoke of subduing her mistress.

"Impossible! Her magnificence can never be fully contained! She is a perfect, all-encompassing light, one you should feel honored to be bathed in."

"Oh, yeah, I'm thrilled," Ben sneered as he came to a halt. "Especially with the part where she gets her key back and I cease to exist."

"True," Gronk admitted, "this oh-so-appealing form will of necessity be shrugged off."

"Not if I get the key first."

That thought stopped Gronk in her scabby tracks. It had never occured to her that Ben might move beyond simple disobedience to actual sabotage of Glory's plans. She decided to play on his humanity, that weakness she had observed in so many of those who had fallen before Glory's magnificence.

"And if you did," she asked, "what then? Could you do it? Take a human life with your own hands?" At his nervous expression, she switched to a more soothing tone of voice. "Oblivion is such a small inconvenience in the service of a deity. Accept your fate. I mean, you said it yourself. This life was never really yours anyway, was it?"

Ben's jaw took on a new tilt of determination. The die was cast. He knew what he had to do.

"It doesn't matter how I came by it. It's mine. And I plan on keeping it."

*****

Giles waited until Buffy had given instructions to the others on what to pack before taking her aside.

"We need to talk," he began.

"About what?" she asked. "We all know what we need to do, so let's do it."

She began to walk away, but Giles grabbed her arm.

"Buffy, something happened between us. I think we need to talk about it."

"I really don't have time for this, Giles," she told him firmly. "We have a Hellgoddess to outrun. Once we save Dawn, we'll have all the time in the world to get over whatever hump we have to, but right now, I don't need the distraction."

She pulled away and headed out the door. Giles whipped off his glasses and rubbed the back of his neck. He took a deep breath and turned to go back to work, only to find Deanna behind him.

"What was that about?" she asked.

Giles shook his head.

"Nothing, apparently. If you'll excuse me, it seems I have supplies to gather."

Deanna shook her head as she watched him go. She decided to see how Will was doing at gathering weapons. Honestly! Deanna couldn't fathom people who tossed such intense love aside out of fear.

*****

"Beverly," Captain Picard began. She looked up at him sadly. Suddenly, he found himself at a loss for words. He grabbed at the first thought that came into his head. "Do you...do you have everything you need?"

"I think so," she answered shakily. "Xander's been looking out for me. He's better at this century than I am. I wish you were going to be with us, Jean-Luc."

"As do I," he agreed. "But under the circumstances, Buffy wants the main force with her to protect Dawn."

He sat next to Beverly and took her hand.

"It isn't fair!" Beverly blurted out. "We're not even supposed to be here and here we are and it's hurt Wesley. Damn Q!"

"I know," Picard soothed her. "It isn't fair, and I'd rather like to hurt Q badly myself. Still, at least one good thing has come out of this. And I promise you, I will do everything in my power to cure Wesley."

"There's one thing you have to do to keep that promise, Jean-Luc," she reminded him. "You have to stay alive. Please don't take any foolish chances. Come back to me when this is over."

"Over and out," Wesley muttered.

Beverly looked helplessly at her son as Picard drew her into his arms.

*****

Geordie tightened another screw clumsily. He hated the primitive tools he was forced to work with. At least he'd been taught what they all were back in his Acadamy days. One of his professors had felt a good engineer needed to know the history as well as the use of his tools and had forced the class to memorize the look, feel, and use of what seemed like hundreds of ancient handtools.

"Never thought I'd thank you, Professor Cravitz, but thanks."

He reached for the pliers. It had turned out to be surprisingly easy to reprogram the bot. Once he took a look at her wiring, Geordie had been impressed at how much had been accomplished with such economy of wiring and such crude materials. Whoever had put this together was even more of a genius than Dr. Noonian Sung, that was clear.

Geordie was roused from his thoughts by a set of footsteps on the basement stairs.

"No problem," he heard Xander call up to the kitchen, "I know I saw it down here last week."

The young man clumped down two more steps, then stopped dead in his tracks.

"Geordie?" he asked nervously. "You're not doing what I think you're doing, are you?"

"I guess that depends on what you think I'm doing," Geordie replied evenly.

"I think you're deactivating that bot," Xander theorized. "And let me just say...good."

"Well...that's not exactly what I'm doing," Geordie admitted. "I'm more reprogramming her."

"To do what?"

"It's...sorta hard to explain," Geordie began. "And kinda personal."

"Wait a minute," Xander said. "Please tell me you're not making it your sex toy, because I think I'd have to hurt you, then."

"No, no, of course not," Geordie assured him. "I like my girls a little less...mechanical."

Xander blew out a relieved breath.

"That's good," he said. "I didn't really want to have to hurt someone on our side. It's just that...that robot gives me the creeps. I mean, it's Buffy. But it's not, y'know? Now once upon a time double Buffy would have been my wildest dream, but the reality...." His eyes went huge. "Geordie, does anyone know you're tinkering with the bot?"

"Just Worf. Why?"

"I think I have an idea. Stay down here with the bot until Buffy and everybody else is gone. You're coming with me. Bring the Slutbot with you."

"What for?"

"Buffy needs to distract some of the people after her. This is gonna provide the distraction."

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