By Dave Turner.
Disclaimer: I do not own the Buffyverse which belongs to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. ‘The Terminator’ was directed by James Cameron and written by James Cameron and Gale Anne Hurd. Neither do I own or claim authorship of ‘Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles. I also do not claim authorship of any canon words or quotes that you might find in this fic. I write these stories for fun not profit.
Crossover: BtVS with ‘The Terminator’ and ’Terminator SCC’, there are also some references to ‘Star Trek the Next Generation’.
Spelling, Grammar and Punctuation; Written in glorious English-English. American idioms are used throughout this fic.
Timeline: Loosely based on the BtVS Season One episode ‘I Robot, you Jane’.
Words: Fourteen chapters of about 2500 words.
Warnings: Some strong language, and a little lesbian wild monkey sex.
Summary: Everyone is in love with Willow, even the Demon Robot and the Terminator.
By Dave Turner.
The machines arose from the ashes of the nuclear fire. Their war to exterminate mankind had raged for years, but the final battle would not be fought in the future. It would be fought here, today…in Sunnydale.0=0=0=0Behind the Sunnydale Observatory; 28th April, 1997.
Driving the trash truck carefully forwards, Carstairs guided the vehicle’s forks into the brackets on the sides of the dumpster. Bringing the truck to a halt he flipped the lever which would activate the hydraulic rams and lift the dumpster over his cab and deposit the trash into the back of his vehicle.
The big diesel engine raced a little as it took up the added strain of powering the pumps that worked the forklift. Unconcerned Carstairs sat back in the driver’s seat and smoothed down his handlebar moustache. Just as the dumpster disappeared from view above his cab he noticed what looked like static electricity arc itself from the observatory building to his truck.
“Oh I say,” he looked out of the cab’s side window to see great forks of static electricity flash and writhe from the ground to his truck, “well I must say this is most odd!”
He watched in interest for a moment longer until the truck’s engine cut out.
“Well I’ll be blowed,” he muttered calmly as he tried to restart the motor.
Having no luck with the engine he looked up to see that the static electricity, or whatever it was, was coalescing into a large blue ball of light that intersected with the surface of the parking lot. Carstairs started to feel uneasy, the ball of light reminded him of ball lightning, but this was much, much bigger. He’d lived in Sunnydale long enough to know about all the strange and weird things that happened in this otherwise normal American town.
He also knew that if any of these ‘strange and weird’ things happened near you, it was often best to leave the area…rapidly. With a cry of ‘Bugger this, I’m off’, Carstairs slid across the seat, opened the passenger’s door and after jumping down from the cab, he ran off into the night. Which was a pity, because if he’d stayed a moment or two longer he would have seen the rather attractive, naked, dark haired girl materialise from the ball of light.
The girl crouched in the dip in the ground formed by the lower edge of the light ball. The lightening slowly dissipated and everything went back to normal (or what past for normal in Sunnydale). Slowly she stood up and took in her surroundings, turning slightly she glanced at the observatory and seemed to dismiss it from her mind as useless. She stepped out of the still smouldering hole with all the grace and projected lethality of a tiger looking for its next meal.
Once again she surveyed her surrounding her eyes flashing like blue ice as she appeared to sniff the warm night air. Something attracted her attention, cocking her head to one side she listened. With no change to the calm expression on her beautiful face she started to walk away from the building and into the night.
Three ‘teenage’ vampires stood together on the observation platform that overlooked Sunnydale. The three appeared to be stuck, sartorially speaking, back in the heyday of punk, that is, sometime in the nineteen-eighties. They fought over the possession of a telescope, placed there to help the public enjoy the spectacular view, as they passed a girl between themselves. Each took a drink from the wound on her neck before passing her on to his buddy. The leader of the little gang had just grabbed the moaning girl from one of his gang mates when the third vampire, not distracted by whom had possession of their victim, noticed the approach of the naked dark haired girl. Even in Sunnydale this wasn’t something you saw everyday, or in this case, night.
“Hey,” laughed the vampire unencumbered by their sobbing victim, “what’s wrong with this picture?”
The three vampires chuckled amongst themselves for a moment before they dropped the girl and turned to form a line facing the newcomer.
“Nice night for a walk, eh?” asked the leader with the spiky blue hair, the three advanced on the seemingly defenceless girl and moved to surround her.
“Nice night for a walk,” the girl repeated without a trace of fear or emotion.
“Wash day tomorrow,” the blond vampire spoke for the first time; he clicked his fingers in front of the girl’s eyes but produced no reaction, “Nothing clean to wear, right?”
“Nothing clean. Right,” replied the girl flatly.
The blue haired vampire laughed as his blond buddy looked the girl up and down appraisingly. The third, and by far the more normal looking of the vampires, stepped behind the girl.
“I think this bitch is a couple of cans short of a six pack, right?” Blue-hair laughed at his own wit.
“Your clothes,” the girl spoke with the same flat emotionless tone that she’d used earlier, “give them to me. Now.”
“Fuck you, asshole!” Blue-hair’s face changed as his fangs became visible, within moments the other two vampires morphed into their ‘game faces’.
Glancing over her shoulder at the vampire behind her the girl hit him with a straight arm, knocking him off his feet to crash into the wall of the observation platform. Thinking that his victim would be distracted, blue-hair leapt to the attack only to jump directly into the girl’s fist. Blue-hair’s face exploded in a welter of blood and broken bone; he fell to the ground clutching at his ruined face.
The third vampire actually managed to bite the girl on her shoulder; his victory, however, was short lived. The girl reached up and took hold of the vampire’s neck and squeezed, there was a sound like a dry branch breaking and the vampire turned to ash. If the girl was surprised by the sudden desiccation of her opponent she didn’t show it. Instead she turned towards her first attacker who had just recovered enough to climb unsteadily to his feet.
Seeing the un-naturally calm girl step over their original victim and walk towards him, the vampire weighed up his chances. One of his buddies had been dusted and the other would be out of action for the foreseeable future. He considered making a break for freedom but gave up on the idea when he realised the girl could easily block any escape route he tried to take. Reluctantly he started to undress.
0=0=0=0Sunnydale High School Library, at more or less the same time.
Taking the lid from the large wooden box that rested on the ‘research table’, Buffy peered inside.
“Oh great,” she said with forced jollity, “a book.”
Reaching into the box she pulled the great leather bound tome from the crate. How she’d managed to get herself roped into this current little project she didn’t know. Someone, somewhere had decided that all new library books had to be scanned into the school computer. Giles, of course, hated the idea while Ms Calendar, the Computer Sciences teacher, seemed to be enjoying herself immensely. Buffy knew from past experience that there was no way that this would end well. In fact, at this very moment Giles and Ms Calendar were squaring up for a major confrontation.
Passing the book to David, one of the two computer nerds who were helping Ms Calendar with the project, Buffy prepared to throw herself between the two ‘adults’ in an effort to prevent world war three breaking out right there in the library. Luckily her slayer powers weren’t needed as an outburst from Fritz (the other computer nerd) distracted everyone from their own little disagreements.
“The printed page is obsolete,” announced Fritz from behind his monitor, “information isn’t bound up any more. It’s an entity. The only reality is virtual;” Fritz stood up, “if you’re not jacked in, you’re not alive.”
Everyone stood or sat as if frozen in place; Fritz picked up his school books and headed for the door.
“Thank-you, Fritz, for making us all sound like crazy people,” Ms Calendar called to Fritz’s rapidly departing back. “Fritz comes on a little strong,” Ms Calendar walked towards Giles as he was bending over a box, “but…”
Sighing Buffy stood by ready to jump between the warring parties, luckily once more open warfare was avoided. Ms Calendar appeared to realise that she wasn’t going to win her argument, at least not tonight.
“Alright guys,” she sighed turning away from Giles, “let’s wrap it up for the day.”
“I’ve just got a few more,” Willow called from her end of the table as she ran the scanner over the page of a book, “I’ll hang for a bit.”
“Cool, thanks,” Ms Calendar picked up her bag and started to head for the door.
“Xander you wanna stay and help me?” Willow smiled hopefully.
Throwing the strap of his school bag over his shoulder, Xander grinned down at his friend.
“Are you kidding?”
“Yes,” Willow’s face fell as she realised that Xander would soon be chasing off after Buffy, “it was a joke I made up.”
“Willow,” Xander started to head towards the door after Buffy, “I love you but...byeeee!”
“See you tomorrow?” called Willow a little needily.
“…Buffy wait up!” Xander made a rapid exit from the library.
After exchanging parting sarcastic comments with each other Ms Calendar and Giles left Willow by herself with the computer. Scanning in some more pages Willow watched her screen as the information appeared before her. If only she hadn’t been watching her monitor so closely she just might have noticed the words and symbols disappearing from the page she’d been working on. Saving the newly input information Willow closed up the book and put it with the pile that belonged to Giles’ special collection. Logging off she never saw the three words that appeared on her screen as she made ready to head for home.
“Where am I?” the words were visible for only a second or two before the computer shut down.
0=0=0=0A Sunnydale Cyber-café early the following day.
Gazing at her reflection in the window of the cyber-café, the girl lifted her hand and ran her fingers along the line of her jaw. She neither knew nor cared if she was beautiful, she did know that she’d been designed to appear attractive to human males. She pushed back her hair from her face and noticed the adolescent male at the table opposite staring at her. Glancing at the youth a list of possible responses appeared on her head-up-display; ‘Can I help you?’, ‘Yes?’, ‘Do you want to party?’, ‘Do you come here often?’, ‘Fuck off asshole!’, ‘Go away I’m busy’, her central processor picked one at random.
“Fuck off asshole!” her voice was flat and devoid of any emotion.
The words appeared to have the desired effect; the youth looked uncomfortable for a moment before concentrating on his own computer screen. Satisfied that one of her few interactions with a human from this time had ended in a non-violent way she turned back to her monitor. Using violence would bring her to the attention of the authorities; if that were to happen it might hinder her in completing her mission successfully.
Resting her fingers lightly on the keyboard she started to type, her central processor observed that the old model 101 Terminators would have been incapable of even this simple act. A 101 would have smashed the keyboard to pieces, even if it had been capable of understanding the usefulness of the internet and computers in general.
The girl had been programmed with masses of ‘real world’ data; she was still trying to process much of it. That would take time but it would become easier the more contact she had with humans and their strange ways. Her head tilted to one side as her central processor calculated the time she’d need to integrate herself into human society. About a week should be sufficient, and then she would be able to start the main part of her mission.
The first thing she would need was a name; her fingers flashed across the keyboard as she brought up list after list of names onto the screen. There were so many of them, how could she choose? Her eyes scanned the lists and fed them into her memory files, a minuscule part of her central processor started to sort through the names in accordance with the criteria she’d been programmed with. A second later she had a name…Cameron, yes that was a good name and would suit her purposes well. Next she would need a ‘family name’, she started her research. If Cameron had been able to feel despair she would have when she found out just how many names there were, but she couldn’t and very soon she’d picked a family name.
Thus was born Cameron Diaz; the two names seemed to fit together perfectly. Now she had a name she could start to insinuate herself into the world of the late twentieth century. Cameron Diaz; aged nineteen, born in San Francisco; both her parents were dead, killed in traffic accident when she’d just turned eighteen. An average student she would now never go to college, she had spent the last year drifting, getting by on the money she made from menial jobs. Cameron gave herself a Driver’s Licence and then stopped to look at what she’d accomplished.
Did she need to add any more detail? No, she decided; she didn’t expect to function for long in this world. She would complete her mission and simply vanish because she’d never existed. There was also a chance that the mission might end in her destruction but she didn’t really believe that this was likely.
There were other things she would need, an address would be useful; without an address so many things were impossible, even mutually exclusive. How could she defraud a bank if she hadn’t got an address for them to send the ATM and credit card she needed? Without money how could she get an address? Then there were simple things that she’d need; like clothes for instance.
She’d noticed that people were giving her strange even frightened looks as she tried to interact with them. A little research told her that she was dressed incorrectly to be taken for a normal, law abiding member of the community, this would, in so many ways, hamper her in completing her mission. Sighing, this was one of the many automated responses that she’d been programmed with and was only now starting to use; she bent back to the keyboard and started to select a style for herself.
It was a strange feeling to be everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Moloch had soon found he was in some strange existence where everything was reduced to pulses of electricity like tiny flashes of lightening. Quickly recovering from the shock of finding himself in a disembodied state he began to learn. This was surprisingly easy, all he found he had to do was to think of the question he wanted answered and the information would come to him.
Of course at first he didn’t understand the answers, but all he had to do was ask another question and the knowledge would fill his mind. The more he learnt the easier it became to learn more and then, after only a few hours he found that he could interact with the solid world outside cyberspace. The first thing he would do was recruit a group of followers and then he would have them make him whole again.
*:Taken from an early STNG episode, the full quote goes;
Yar: "You are fully functional, aren't you?"
Data: "Of course, but--"
Yar: "How fully?"
Data: "In every way, of course. I am programmed in multiple techniques."
Yar: "Oh, you jewel! That's exactly what I hoped."