Fight the Power, Fight the Powers That Be!

by Oracleholly

For Wulfie, who dared to challenge me?

The Challenge:
Lawyerly Spike-fic challenge. In season 4 after escaping the Initiative and after finding out he can fight demons, Spike goes to Gotham to visit the lawfirm of Gordan, Greyson, Aldridge, and whatever to sue the Government. Use your creative talents and lawyerly knowledge to build him a case to get the chip out and monetary benefits for having been attacked without cause and chipped without trial. Hell, you can convict various peeps from the Initiative if you want.


Prologue

"I can hurt a demon! That's right. I'm back. And I'm a BLOODY ANIMAL! Yeah!" - Spike - Doomed


Practically bouncing with glee that he could fight something, anything, Spike was anxious to get back out there and regain some of his stones that those government wankers had taken from him. He'd been effectively neutered too long, but now the Big Bad was back. Not all the way, but he would get there. Right now he just wanted to pummel something. Bloody hell it felt wonderful to be able to hit without blinding pain searing through his skull.

He had even approached Harris and Red about going out to fight. So caught up with his delight, he failed to notice he still wore that blasted Hawaiian shirt. But those two just stared at him as if he had drunk some blood laced with LSD. No help there. Lightweights. Hell he would even tag along with the Slayer on the off chance some wanna-be bitty bad wanted to tangle. God, he could use a good slay.

Skirting through the streets of Sunnydale, he caught the all-too familiar scent of one of his torturers. He knew the lab rats by their faces, builds and scents. He'd like to shove a chip in their heads. One that caused them to shove spikes up their asses, cut their own throats, so he could bathe in their blood. And that is just what he would like to do to the scientist types. The GI-Joes, he had a whole host of other long, drawn-out, painful scenarios playing in his mind.

This scent was one of the fatigued tossers. He had already realized that the Slayer's new boy toy was military, which infuriated him. How dare the Slayer cozy up to one of those monsters. Oh right, she still thought he was one. If she only knew how many 'harmless' demons those wankers rounded up and experimented on, would she be so smitten? Probably. The bitch.

He didn't detect any other military type around the one he scented. Stalking close to his prey, Spike noticed that it was the angry black one. Something tree, wasn't it? The Cracker one…Graham…had called him…something to do with trees. Forrest! That's it. Well Forrest was in civilian clothes, trying to impress some completely bored female. Bleeding hell was that bugger reeking in Aspen cologne? Forrest, Aspen. Spike thanked the Powers-that-like-to-fuck-with-you that he no longer had to breathe, as he stopped inhaling that vicious scent. Made him want to heave that precious primo blood he bought at the butcher.

Deciding to follow the lumbering git, Spike hoped that the gormy tit would lead him back to the Initiative's headquarters. No, he didn't want to get caught; he wanted to get even. Those bastards had taken away his fangs for all intents and purposes. Sure he could now rumble with other big bads, but them taking away his purpose as a vampire crossed the bloody line.

So much for military training and being some sort of super soldier, Ugly had led him straight back to Lowell House. The frats were having what the natives call a 'kegger.' Spike counted on two things before he entered the frat house: his sense that most of the blighters were pissed and that most were so overly-hormonally sex deprived that all were trying to get into the skirts of the slim pickings of 'beauties' present. Sneaking in and keeping as low of a profile as possible, he watched as Forrest found a hidden panel, which scanned his hand. A secret elevator appeared. So that was the trick.

Leaving the house, Spike made his way back to the whelp's basement. He needed to know more about who ran the Initiative. When he got back to Harris' Red was still there. Red would know some clues, but he had to be subtle about it. Right now, Red and the Whelp seemed to like that Cardboard soldier boy.

"'lo Red. That Riley guy that the Slayer seemed to know, you know him too, right?"

Willow looked up at him, pizza slice still in her mouth. "Humph." She nodded yes.

"So that's the Slayer's new fella? What's his last name?"

Willow looked at him as if he grew a new head. Quickly changing tactic, he added, "You know…I have to keep up with the habits of my enemy. Know who's important to them. Know who to kill when I get this chip out."

At that Willow seemed to relax. Visibly, incomprehensibly relax. It affronted his demon. Reigning in his anger and keeping a calm veneer, Spike waited until the witch had finished her slice.

Xander piped up, "Yeah right, bleach boy, you know chip comes out, poof, bye-bye Spikey. Slayer would stake you on sight."

"Harris, I'd be sure to drain you before that happens."

"Xander! Spike! You boys stop it. His name is Riley Finn. He's a TA at the University, for Professor Maggie Walsh. You know that professor that Buffy and I talk about. We have her for psych. But I got the feeling you sort of knew him already. What with the 'I'm just an old pal of Xander's here' and the funny accent and all."

"Right, well with those military guys running amok, a vamp had better be careful." With that he left the basement apartment. He had now some solid leads; enough he thought that his friend would be able to take it from there.

He would make them pay all right - one way or another.

*******

Spike didn't normally like dipping into his accounts, but this had been an emergency situation. Having the money he did tended to give other demons and vamps the wrong idea about him. He felt his stealing lent an air to his reputation as a Big Bad. He took what he wanted, when he wanted it, and no one could stop him. The fact that he didn't actually need it was another matter.

Securing the necessary funds, he acquired another vehicle for this mission. While he would have loved to take his beloved Desoto, he deemed it too risky. Those government types might have placed a tracer on it already. He hadn't survived for over a hundred years without learning a few things, despite that the Watcher and the Slayer's little merry band of white hats thought otherwise.

He had driven all through the night and most of the next day to get to Gotham. Sure it would have been easier to go to Wolfram & Hart, but Los Angeles meant Peaches, and he wanted his grandsire to know nothing about his predicament for now. Besides Gotham had an appeal that LA didn't. Her.

Parking in the conveniently sun-protected parking garage, Spike walked to the underground floor entrance of the most powerful inter-dimensional lawfirm, rivaling the best Wolfram & Hart had to offer. Gorden, Greyson, and Aldridge.

He had taken the elevator to the top floor; she demanded the best always. Spike wasn't much surprised that when the elevator doors opened, she was there, smiling and holding out welcoming arms.

"Spike!"

"Holly, you look delectable as always." Huge smile plastered across his face, all would be okay now. She would see to it. Stepping into her arms, he welcomed her enthusiastic hug and felt the delightful surprise of her hands grabbing his ass.


Chapter One

"Of course I do Spike, and I see that you're still sculptured masterfully. We really need to set a time where you could pose for me. Her hands still tightly grabbing his buttocks, causing his groin to rub enticingly against her womb where he sensed a lack of underwear. Hell, if it weren't for B…. He should just take advantage of what this treat had to offer. 'Sides: Evil.

An amused but annoyed huff came loudly down the hall. Pretty soon a wheelchair with all the bells and whistles came flying towards them. A pretty redhead completed the package. "Really Holly, not in front of potential clients." The hint of an amused smile tugged at the corners of her lips. Spike noticed that while the driver of the wheelchair operated the wheels, it appeared she did not necessarily have to. It looked to be mechanized with some interesting additions, but he had no idea what those were.

"Yes, Babs." Holly sighed; her reply almost automatic, as if she's had to say those two words a lot. Even though she had moved to his side, Holly kept one hand poised on his lower back, her pinky finger caressing the top of his left cheek. "It's just I'm rarely graced with the presence of this particular specimen of male perfection." She turned her attention back to Spike, "You don't mind me calling you that; do you dear?"

"No, not at all, pet."

"Barbara Gordon, allow me the great pleasure of introducing Spike, aka William the Bloody, Slayer of Slayers. Spike, this is Barbara Gordon, one of my partners." At the mention of his name, 'Babs' expression turned icy. Spike thought Babs could give the Slayer a run for her money for the title of 'Queen of Lethal Looks.'

"So what are you doing at our lawfirm? Forgive me sir, but wouldn't you rather be at Wolfram & Hart. They tend to specialize in matters more reflective of your history and your kind?" Barbara Gordon, once known by those who mattered as Bat Girl and now Oracle, had gone up against her share of evil. Heck, she still fought evil on a daily basis. Which reminded her that she needed to check in on Dinah's progress on her mission, make sure Tim and Cass kept out of too much trouble, and track down Dick - Nightwing's presence had been requested by Superman. Holly's "Barbara!" snapped her focus back onto the vampire.

"You'd be spot on, if I were just any vamp. 'M not. End of bloody story." His jaw clenched, the muscles in his neck corded.

"Babs, Spike and I go way back. He's a friend. Play nice." Holly began to wring her hands.

Spike took one of her hands in his. Sure enough, she began to sort of sway side to side and bounce on the balls of her high-heeled feet. That was his Holly, constantly in motion.

"I'm sorry Mr. Spike,"

"Just Spike,"

"Spike…I shouldn't have been so rude. I'd blame the mess that has been my morning for my behavior. Please accept my apologies and I hope our firm can assist you with your matter." Babs offered her hand.

Spike shook it, then bent down kissing the back of her dainty hand. He felt calluses, not all from wheelchair usage. Interesting chit. Bet she had stories to tell.

Quickly, Babs had taken away her hand already heading away from the pair. Her voice drifted back to them, "Holly, let me know if you need my help."

"She's…" Holly began.

"She's a piece of work." Spike finished.

"Yeah," she said, nodding her head in agreement, causing her golden curls to bounce. Holly turned professional, "Come on darling, step into my office."

"Said the spider to the fly…" Spike mumbled under his breath.

"I heard that William."

*** Sitting in the most comfortable armchair on the planet, Spike regarded Holly's office. The office offered an interesting mix of textures and styles all reflecting the idiosyncrasies of its occupant. She had filled her space with a blend of Oriental and modern classicism. Deep purples, subtle mauves, splashes of soft reds created an inviting, comforting environment. Yet, for all its lushness, the office embraced the underlying element of humor. The small gong on her desk, the anime action figure proudly displayed in between law books, some of her collection of katanas mounted over a picture of a beautiful lilac colored demon.

Spike would wager that none of her human clients knew that the picture actually showed their lawyers' true demonic form. Like vampires, her kind was able to wear the guise of humanity, since a succubus only differed from humans in color, markings, a nice set of fangs and a nifty set of wings. In either form, Holly could flash her smile, bat her eyes and cause any man worth his salt to succumb to her charms.

Holly watched as her favorite vampire took in his surroundings. It had been a few years since he had come to see her in either an official or unofficial capacity - well at least in this dimension. Being able to traverse dimensions enabled her to see all different kinds of Spikes - some she liked more than others. Technically, she didn't physically jump from dimension to dimension, unless it was an emergency. However, she could simply go into a trance and send thoughts, memories, messages to her other selves.

The phone rang, and Spike noticed that a blue light flickered with the ring. Holly gave him a strange look, before answering the call. She held up one finger and put her free hand over her ear indicating that she wanted him to not listen in. Spike appreciated Holly's demand for confidentiality. He could easily listen to her conversation, but he knew if he breached her trust, he'd be fired as a client. So he put his hands over his ears, while she whispered into the phone.

Holly tensed at the light; the timing could not have been more inconvenient. Blue light call meant only one family. All her 'selves' were working overtime for this client. In one dimension where the timeline was at least 20 years ahead of this one, Spike, Buffy, and their children were hopping through other timelines trying to fix what went wrong in theirs. It was exhausting trying to keep up with it all. Not that she minded helping Spike and Buffy - especially since she really, really, really liked their son William. She became wet just at the mere thought of him - very few had ever held that sort of power over her.

Her alternate selves all agreed via their mental link that she would be the 'go-to' Holly for this matter. The number that produced the blue light was good in all dimensions - so that whenever and wherever her clients were, if they called the number, they got her. Speaking quickly to an older Buffy about supplying cars in that dimension, she concluded the conversation. Glancing briefly back at this Spike, she suppressed a giggle at seeing the big bad vampire holding his hands over his ears; however, he was sniffing the air with a decidedly wicked looking leer.

Spike watched how animated Holly appeared when talking to whoever the caller was. Must be someone important. Just as he was starting to get bored with sitting still, his legs already sort of moving to their own beat, he smelled a delicious aroma of arousal coming from Holly. Someone's being naughty. Now his curiosity doubled. Succubi were known as seductresses, but few men or women could enrapture them.

Holly sat down in her chair, looking pointedly at Spike. He removed his hands, and she gave him a thankful smile.

"Your boy-toy wanting a shag, luv?" Spike teased.

"The caller was not my …erm…boyfriend." Her expression became all business, "So Spike, not that I'm not delighted to see you, what has happened that you made your way here to see me in person?"

"The Initiative. Ever hear of them?"

Spike observed that Holly blanched for a second before quickly covering. She knew about them. How, he didn't know.

"Yes, I am aware of the existence of that particular secret government agency. Why?" Her eyes grew flinty, turning her already dark blue eyes almost pure black.

"Bastards shoved a soddin' chip in my head, makin' so I can't hurt a human, can't feed like a proper vampire. I escaped, but I saw other vamps and demons caged. Most demons were harmless types. Lots of military types and white coats. Had to take bleedin' refuge with the bloody Slayer and her little friends. They'd chained me to the bathtub, made me miss Passions and …" He shuddered, "…and sip pig's blood from a "Kiss the Librarian mug." Spike ranted.

Holding up one hand, Holly said, "Slow down, slow down. I want to make sure I understand exactly what's happened. Take it from the beginning. From your mention of the Slayer, I'm taking it you went back to Sunnydale? Right?" At Spike's affirmative nod, she continued, "Okay, do I want to know why you returned to Sunnydale? No, don't answer that - well not right now - I may need to know later. The others you saw…imprisoned… were they known to you?"

"No, lots of fledges that I've never seen before…were on the same block of cells."

"Right." Holly drew a line down the middle of her legal pad, making scribbles on one side. "Now, tell me what happened."

Spike began his story.

---tbc ---

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