Evil Friends - JohnnyB - Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV) [Archive of Our Own] (2024)

Chapter Text

Andrew knew he wasn't supposed to be back there. He fidgeted nervously. If he was ten years younger, he would've chewed a hole in one of his sweater sleeves and disgusted everyone in class with its damp slobber.

Now, he's old enough to know better. Just. Well, sometimes his mom, whenever he visited her, still had to tell him to stop doing that. But mostly he was old enough to not do that anymore.

He wouldn't even be thinking about doing what he was thinking about doing if Warren hadn't been gone a long time, and if Jonathan wasn’t seriously starting to get on his nerves, anyway. It was all his fault!

They could never agree on anything! First they started arguing over what order the Alien movies should be watched in- (Truth be told, Andrew hadn't actually seen many of them all the way through, even descriptions of that… Uh, chest-bursting scene at the lunch table had put him off the lunch resting on it) Jonathan had said Aliens was the best so it should be watched first, so as to give the average newcomer the best personal experience of the franchise, and Andrew argued that movies were meant to be watched in the order they came out in. Otherwise, why would they make them in that order?!

He'd known he'd said something dumb the moment he'd said it. Now Jonathan was acting fricking haughty, cause he thought he'd won. This made their second argument about something they normally agreed on, (whether Keanu Reeves was a good actor or not) all the more galling. Still, Jonathan haughtiness was, admittedly, slightly better than the Jonathan distance he'd been feeling between them lately.

It was weird. They used to be tight, back when it had been just them. Then Warren had started playing D&D with them, and (this wasn't even Warren’s fault) Jonathan had started cheating (he was rolling an inhuman amount of 20s), just to prove he was better than Warren.

Then Warren had asked if they'd wanted to take over the world with him. He'd started inventing new, seriously cool stuff, and everyone agreed that it was cool, but Jonathan had acted like actually helping out with the “Gear” as Warren called it was below him or something.

Truth be told, he kind of hated Jonathan now.

Even still, he felt a twinge of sadness in his chest at the fact that they weren't getting along lately.

Jonathan had been just as there as the rest of them to celebrate their successes against the Slayer, but he was always talking like, like they were a bunch of losers! Didn't he laugh and whoop with the rest of them when they stole that diamond? Didn't he accept a round of high fives when they totally reverse bullied that jock with their new Teenage Shame Machine? Didn't he have fun when they used that sucker fish demon to take turns giving each other hickies? Actually, maybe that last one was a dream he had.

Andrew sighed. A lot of stuff really sucked these days, and not in the buddies-palling-around-making-hickies way. He couldn't figure out why. It wasn't all Jonathan being a Debbie downer making him feel like that, after all. Maybe he needed new friends? Except, he'd historically found it pretty hard to make new friends, and Warren always got twitchy around company that wasn't his.

In a way, it was a good thing none of them were in the habit of scoring regularly and bringing girls back to HQ. Warren had exiled a lot of people from the hideout, (Not without good reason! Spike was still on the banned list for what he did to Boba Fett) and most girls would probably be banned anyway. Plus, it seemed Katrina was still a bit of sore spot for Warren too, seeing as she'd been the last girl in the safe house.

Andrew couldn't blame him. If his girlfriend died in an accident like that, he wouldn't be Mr Chipper. How could Warren have known she was going to run off like that?

She was going to tell. That's what Warren had said. He'd only tried to grab her, to stop her. From telling. So it was an accident.

Speaking of telling, he hoped to God no one was going to tell on him for what he was about to do now.

Andrew winced, imagining what Jonathan or Warren would say, if they discovered him doing this. Thankfully, Jonathan was still being haughty and drinking coffee at The Drip. He'd told Andrew a million times he was writing a screenplay, and he needed the ambience of brown noise at the cafe to really get into the writing zone. Andrew asked him whether brown noise wasn't that note that made you, you know, brown yourself, and Jonathan had given him a look like he didn't know whether he was mad at Andrew or just grossed out

Meanwhile Warren was out getting intel on Buffy. Jonathan said every time Warren claimed he was out getting intel (this was something he had to do alone, to be covert) he was at Rack’s, or the movies, but Andrew couldn't bring himself to believe Jonathan. That Rack guy was scary. And skeevy. Warren wouldn't hang out with skeevy people like that. He was their friend, not Rack’s. And as for the at the movies theory, Warren would never go to see a movie without them!

Andrew looked once more over his shoulder, and unplugged RoboWarren’s charging port.

He was supposed to be in rest mode when he charged, so as to not, you know, heat up too much and explode. RoboWarren was an older model, which meant that even if he looked as good as Buffybot, (He didn't mean good like sexy, he meant good like lifelike, that's what he meant) Andrew had to take care to watch out and remember to disconnect him from his sleep cycles, before powering him on.

Warren had said not to touch his robot, partly cause he was super into other people not touching stuff that was his, but mostly cause he still wasn't a hundred percent convinced RoboWarren wouldn't overheat, and again, turn the HQ into an inferno with Andrew still presumably inside it. So, the instructions had been to watch Robo-Warren carefully while he was out, and to use what was left in the fire extinguisher after they had had to stun a particularly cheated demon with the contents, if “Something happened”- NOT to touch it.

Jonathan hadn't even listened properly. He'd just scoffed and left the hideout, only like, fifteen minutes after Warren had left. Leaving him with RoboWarren. He was curious, okay? Was it a crime to be curious? Sure, it killed the cat, but guess what? Satisfaction brought it back! So there.

Apparently, Warren had programmed RoboWarren with a basic knowledge of his friends, so he would be more convincing to Buffy, hopefully stopping her from ripping his head off right away before they managed to enact their plan. Andrew really wanted to ask him questions to see what Warren truly thought of him. Cause, he'd figured out, during a fight with Jonathan, actually, that if RoboWarren treated him as a higher priority friend than Jonathan, and reacted like it when they were face to face, it meant the real Warren probably saw the situation clearly, for what it was. Smart, huh?

Everyone knew Johnathan wasn't even a part of their gang anymore, not really. Whereas Andrew had been (apart from what he was doing now, obviously) going out of his way to be helpful lately.

Staying up late to be a guinea pig for Warren’s new inventions (even if it meant getting a rash that Warren brushed off as an allergic reaction, while Jonathan insisted they were radiation burns and Andrew should go to a hospital), letting Warren use his room as a place to store his electronics magazines and cursed books, and doing some of the washing up when the mold on the edges of the dishes called for it.

A lot of his free time came down to helping Warren, it was only fair RoboWarren was programmed to be aware of his ranking in the group. Even if all Warren was gonna do with him was feed him to an asskicking Buffy.

RoboWarren blinked awake, and Andrew couldn't help yipping in surprise.

For a moment, RoboWarren’s mouth worked and no sound came out. Then, he blinked again, and he seemed alright. Just sleepy, Andrew supposed.

“Hello. Andrew Wells.” The seated robot smiled. “Put it there, pardner.” He held out his hand, the fingers pressed together.

Andrew giggled nervously. He didn't want to leave RoboWarren hanging, but real Warren said not to touch. Matter of fact, he'd said that way more times to him than he'd said it to Jonathan… Oh, wait. Warren wasn't worried that he'd do anything gay to RoboWarren right? Right?

Andrew swallowed his panic. “Uhm. You can go back to sleep if you want.”

RoboWarren looked down at his hand, and then rearranged it into a finger gun at the lack of reciprocation.

“My batteries are at full percentage, so I'm not tired, as you might say.”

Andrew turned his head to the side, watching RoboWarren talk out of the corner of his eye, a little disconcerted. He had never actually seen the real Warren smile as hard, or this much. He inhaled a breath.

“DoyouthinkJonathanlikesyoubetterthanme?” Andrew rushed out.

He'd been eager to have some kind of a talk with RoboWarren, (just to confirm things, to get rid of this… Uncertainty plaguing him) but now he wanted to get the conversation over with as fast as possible. RoboWarren didn't breathe nearly enough, and it was beginning to make him worried. Maybe he was more of a broken down model than they'd suspected. Maybe he wouldn't even have this kind of information coded into him. Only instructions like, step back if the Slayer makes a swing for you, or, try to put yourself out by rolling around if you happen to suddenly burst into flames.

Or… Maybe he was so broken he was evil- like in the first Alien movie when that one robot loved the xenomorphs too much to even function. He'd seen that part, at least. Looking through his fingers, sure, but he'd seen it.

“Whyarewetalkingfastnow?” RoboWarren shot back, still smiling as diligent as ever. He even lowered his voice as if he was all conspiratorial.

“I- I'm not talking fast!” Andrew flushed. “I was just wondering what, Jonathan’s uhm, friendship level is in your, like, systems. You have a friendship code thing, right? Like a prr- uh, order priority system?”

“Orders? I don't take orders.” RoboWarren blinked. “I'm a hundred percent alpha, I make the calls, and bitches better bow down.” He said blankly.

Obviously Warren had programmed that particular line in. Andrew frowned.

“You know who Jonathan is, though?”

“Short.” RoboWarren continued to smile dopily.

Andrew felt himself relax. Yeah, the smile was sort of eerie, but it was sort of comforting too. It made it seem as if RoboWarren had woken up happy to see him, and was now enjoying their talk.

“What about me, who am I?” Andrew whispered.

“You’re Andrew Welles. Dumb. But useful.” RoboWarren said, matter-of-factly.

“D- dumb?” Andrew repeated, flinching slightly. “But you said useful, right?” He said with some hope.

“Yep. And we hang out a lot. Cause you're Tucker’s brother. You like spending time with me. You were Jonathan’s friend. Jonathan cheats at a roleplaying game referred to as Dungeons and Dragons. You still sleep with a night light. You… I'm sorry, it may be because I have a queued update, the information in my files about you is…” RoboWarren made a sheepish shrugging motion with his shoulders. “Lacking.”

RoboWarren placed a hand suddenly on Andrew’s knee comfortingly.

“This is no cause for concern. You're my friend. I'm sure I'll know more about you in time.”

Andrew’s mouth fell open. His crouched leg jiggled under the weight of the robot’s palm. Warren said not to touch the robot, but what if the robot touched him? He gulped, then gently pried the robot’s hand off of his knee.

“Was I not supposed to do that?” RoboWarren said, a cartoonish look of consternation appearing on his face, replacing the smile.

“No! No!” God, this was freaky. Real Warren wouldn't give a damn whether he was supposed to do something or not. He was a supervillain. He did whatever the heck he wanted! And now, this fake Warren, he looked so- so sad? Like he'd hurt his feelings? Which was impossible, cause he was a robot. He just, he really looked like the real Warren. Cause Warren was… Lifelike. No, sexy. No, he meant, good at what he did!

So good at what he did, Andrew couldn't help wanting RoboWarren to smile again. The conversation felt much better when he was smiling.

Only, RoboWarren’s frown deepened at Andrew’s words. Disaster!

“No, I meant, it's fine! It's fine! Look, you can put your hand back!” He grabbed RoboWarren’s hand (oh no) and placed it back on his knee.

“Phew. Woof. I am glad.” RoboWarren said.

His brown eyes rounded with his apparent relief, his weird, cute, automatic-forever-smile turning up again into the corners of his mouth. Warren had a thing about making his designs smile. He said it made them “user-friendly”, but back then, he had only been talking about all his girl ones. Andrew felt his heart beat faster. Maybe he'd meant for RoboWarren to smile, to taunt Buffy? Except, this didn't look like a taunting smile to him.

“Would you like to fight me?” RoboWarren said abruptly.

“Huh?” Andrew blurted out. The past few minutes had been sort of… Hazy. RoboWarren’s hand was still on his knee.

“Buffy wants to fight me. I am here to be fought. And ‘get my robo ass killed’. But Buffy is not here. The objective isn't clear.” RoboWarren said, evenly.

Andrew felt his eyebrows drawing together, in a similar expression of concern the robot seemed to make before. He'd forgot that was what Warren had brought him back for.

“I'm your friend. Friends don't fight.” Andrew mumbled weakly in protest, looking down.

Then suddenly he heard the key slide into the lock on the rusty backdoor of their hideout.

“It's them!” Andrew shouted, yanking the robot’s hand off of his knee, a cold sweat breaking out all over him.

“It's them!” RoboWarren copied with alarm, drawing his hands up to his face and echoing Andrew. Probably cause there seemed to be nothing else to say. It was hard not to think like he was surprised, too. Like, it was fake fear, RoboWarren was just copying him duh, but-

“Shut down shut down go to sleep don't explode just shhhhhhh bed time, buddy byes for little guys.” Andrew muttered quickly, plugging RoboWarren back into his charging port.

He was rough by accident, and sparks flew from the area surrounding the port socket as he ground it into synthetic flesh, instead of the actual hole the cable head was supposed to go in.

RoboWarren ended up saying a garbled: “Guhfh- Badges? We don't need no stinking… Badges…” in a Mexican accent, before his head dropped, and he quietened, finally.

Gosh, that was a close one.

“I bought back the fancy croissants. They were on discount cause they'd been squished.” Jonathan announced in the hallway.