"I get that a lot," he said dryly to her retreating back.

Stopping, she turned and looked at him, her thoughts masked beneath an expressionless countenance.  "I appreciate the effort," she said slowly, "but I think I’d rather have someone who knows what they’re doing."

"Suit yourself," Lindsey said evenly, "but just so you know, I’m as good as it gets."

She arched an eyebrow at his brash statement.  "I doubt that."

"I would assume you of all people would be willing to give me a chance.  How many times have you been written off because you aren’t what people have expected?  Yet, you’re one of the most impressive Slayers in history."

Her surprise was palpable.  Lindsey was pleased.  He didn’t know who she thought had sent him, but he didn’t work for legal aid, and he didn’t do cases pro bono - not usually, anyway.  He smiled calculatedly and looked at his hands, flexing them slowly.  The gesture baffled the Slayer.  Lindsey knew that by all rights, he should have been shaking in his boots.  He was as dirty as they came, and he was confronting a righteous warrior on her turf.  Raising his gaze again, he met her eyes, his face completely devoid of fear.

"The bottom line is that you need help," he said coolly.  "I can offer it to you.  Don’t be stupid.  Are you really willing to risk your sister’s future because I don’t fit your preconceived notion of a competent lawyer?"

Buffy bristled, her gaze shooting to Giles who was watching the by-play silently.

Swallowing convulsively, the Watcher said, "I’m afraid he’s right, Buffy.  He is an extremely competent attorney ... and he’s our last hope."

Lindsey watched her passively, but there was a smug air about him.

The Slayer clenched her teeth so hard her jaw ached with the effort.  She was backed into a corner and she knew it, but it didn’t mean she had to like it …or accept it gracefully.

"He’s our lawyer?" Dawn said, cocking an eyebrow at the attractive young man.  "I thought they were like ... old and stuffy."

Buffy smiled wryly.  "Apparently they come in all shapes and sizes," she commented flippantly.

Lindsey held his tongue as he opened his satchel, pulling out the legal brief he’d composed on their behalf.  It was weighty, hitting the table with an audible thud.  Both of them seemed shocked.

"What’s this?" Buffy asked warily.

"Your ticket to a foster care free life," he said smugly.  When she didn’t smile, he sobered.  "It will ensure that the court not only awards you complete custody of your sister, but it will make them think twice about ever attempting to suggest you are unfit."

Buffy looked at the document.  "You’re confident this is going to work?"

"Yes," he answered firmly.  "I doubt anyone in Sunnydale has ever seen legal work of this caliber.  Not to sound overly confident, but this is like shooting fish in a barrel."

Her lack of faith in him was evident.  "You think this is wise?" she asked carefully.  "You come in here, start throwing your weight around.  What if the backwater courts of Sunnydale take offense and decide to teach you a lesson?  I won’t have Dawn pay for your macho posturing."

Smiling in spite of himself, he met her gaze.  He’d been in this position a thousand times.  He was handing her a get out of jail free card.  Not a single one of his clients in the past had ever questioned him.  The second he’d proven that he could shift the tides in their favor, he’d always been given their undying devotion.  Yet, the Slayer was still unwilling to give him an inch.

Smart girl.

"Trust me," he said, "Dawn won’t pay.  No one will.  This will scare then enough to realize that they aren’t messing with some little girl who has no resources.  It will make them aware of the fact that you are a formidable foe quite capable of making their lives a living hell if they decide to pursue their harassment.  It’s the proverbial warning shot across their bow."

Buffy’s respect for the lawyer blossomed, but she was sure to let nothing outwardly reflect her change of heart.  He didn’t need her to feed his ego, he did that enough himself.  With a small nod, she ushered her sister out of the room.

"Thought you might be able to use this," Buffy said quietly, setting the coffee cup down on the desk.

"Thanks," Lindsey said, shooting her a genuine smile.

"Need any help?" she asked evenly.

He looked at her for a long moment and Buffy was certain her bluff was up.  He knew she was looking for excuses to stay in his presence.  But just as she was ready to turn tail, his expression changed.

"Yeah," he replied, "I need this stack of papers searched for references to your mother’s divorce settlement with your father."

He handed Buffy the file in question and motioned for her to pull up a nearby chair.  She did so, leaning back in the chair and pulling her knees up to her chest as she read through the documents.  He went back to digging through papers, making notes on a legal pad and humming almost inaudibly as he worked.

He’d earned her begrudging respect when he secured her sole, permanent custody of Dawn, but as he’d stayed on to sort through her mother’s estate, Buffy found herself more curious about the man.  She wasn’t sure what exactly Lindsey’s legal forte was, but estate law wasn’t it.  It was taking him weeks to go through documents and read up on statutes.  Yet, he never complained and he was clearly not going to mention a legal fee.  She had no idea where Giles had dug him up, but she was grateful.

After several minutes she gave up her pretense of sorting through papers and watched him.  How long had it been since a man had stirred any emotion in her, even simple lust?  But looking at him, she felt something inside herself flutter to life for the first time in many long months.  He was a handsome man, that much she’d noticed off the bat, but there was more.  He was a mystery, dark, quiet, even vaguely dangerous.  He was intimate with darkness, she knew that much without having to ask.  Spike had once accused her of needing a little monster in her man, and she was beginning to suspect he was right.

It had been months since she’d held another body to hers with the simple intention of sating a hunger, scratching an itch.  For months she’d been closed down, first from her mothers death and then later from her legal ordeal over Dawn.  She had no intention of opening up to him, but maybe she could use him to feel a little less lonely.  The temptation was definitely there, hell, it was there with Spike, but being human, Lindsey didn’t create the same moral turmoil within her.

She realized he was staring back at her with a hungry expression that probably mirrored her own.  As he held out his hand in invitation, she took it, allowing him to pull her from the chair and into his lap.  She was surprised at his hesitation.  Lindsey didn’t strike her as a man who was used to denying himself anything, yet it was definitely there.  He looked at her like she was forbidden fruit and he was about to get kicked out of the Garden of Eden.  She didn’t care.  Her lips easily found his and as her tongue traced the outline of his mouth, his hesitation disappeared in a flash.

He wasn’t much on foreplay, and that was just fine with her.  She wasn’t looking for a meaningful relationship, she was looking for something to chase away the numbness.  His hands swiftly undid the buttons of her simple white sweater and since she wore no bra, he palmed her bare breast in a single moment.  She gasped into his mouth, shocked by the heat of his hand.  Odd, that all the months of physical intimacy with Riley had done nothing to acclimate her to the touch of human males.  Some part of her still expected her lover’s flesh to be cold, dead. Generally, she tried not to dwell on that particular quirk. She pushed the thought away.  There was no room for Angel in this rough groping.  This wasn’t about what she’d shared with him.  This wasn’t the same mockery that her relationship with Riley had been.  She wasn’t trying to find another love, she was just looking to get off.  Lindsey was showing wonderful progress in that direction.  Somehow, she’d known.  A man couldn’t look the way he did, strut around the way he did, without being able to satisfy a woman. She held his head to her breast as he pulled her pebbled nipple between his teeth, panting hard as he began to nurse at her aroused flesh.

As one of his hands fumbled with the button on her jeans, she moved to help him.  In short order, the clinging denim was on the floor.  With something akin to a growl, Buffy tore at Lindsey’s shirt.  She wasn’t about to be completely naked while he groped her, fully clothed.  Angel had always done things like that and it had irritated her to no end.  If she was naked, Lindsey was going to be as well.  He helped her pull the T-shirt over his head, baring his chest to her hungry mouth.  Buffy smiled against his hot, tanned flesh.  He was different from her other lovers, being much smaller in stature.  She’d idly wondered if it would bother her, but she found she didn’t care.  Lindsey may have been smaller than both Angel and Riley, but he was still twice her size.

Impatiently, he moved her off his lap, setting her on top of the desk.  She stripped off her sweater while he set about getting rid of his own jeans.  In moments they were wildly groping each other again, now free of any clothes.

He whispered her name in a hoarse, deep voice as he twined one hand through her hair.  He used the grip to pull her head back, exposing the bronzed column of her neck.  She gasped as he sucked harshly on Angel’s brand, worrying the tough flesh with his blunt teeth.  Her fingers dug into his biceps as she wrapped her lithe legs around his waist, pulling his body into contact with hers.  He was hard, and the insistent jut of his erection against her stomach pleased her to no end.

"Fuck me," she whispered, liberated by the fact that she had the gall to utter something so lewd, so intensely private and revealing, to a near stranger.

He groaned, shifting her on top of the desk so he could sheath himself inside of her.  But then something penetrated his lust-addled brain, and he stopped abruptly, knowing that he shouldn’t be engaging in this particular activity.

"What?" she asked him impatiently, her lips swollen from their urgent kisses, her hair tousled deliciously.

"I ... uh," he stuttered.

She continued to look at him with a hungry gaze that made him want to fuck her senseless.

"I ... don’t have any protection with me," he answered, wanting to pat himself on the back for making up a halfway believable excuse.

"Don’t care," she bit out, grasping the head of his cock with one hand and guiding it to her throbbing sex.  "I’m on the Pill. And you seem like the overclean type."

He gasped as the head slipped in a small distance.  She was so hot, so wet, so soft.  It had been an eternity since he’d experienced the simple, delightful pleasure of rutting with a willing human female.  He knew he shouldn’t give in, that his very life could hang in the balance, but he was, after all, only a man.  He plunged into her, his hands clasped tightly around her hips, holding her in place as he thrust against her.  He could feel his climax building quickly, too quickly, so he slowed.

She let out a frustrated growl, trying to move her hands to his hips so she could control the action.  He pulled on her legs abruptly, causing her to lose her balance and fall back against the desk.  Before she could try to push herself into a sitting position again, he took advantage of her sprawl and began to finger her clit as he thrust into her tight wetness.  Her mouth fell open and she let out a low moan as she fell back against the desk again.  He stroked into her slowly, but firmly, teasing her clit the entire time.  Her body was hot, a fine sheen of perspiration covering her as she writhed, her head lolling back and forth as her legs flexed around his waist.  He increased the pressure of his fingers until she exploded around him, her back arching off the desk as she let out a breathy moan.

Her legs went lax in the aftermath, falling away from his hips to hang limply over the edge of the desk.  He withdrew, urging her to roll over until she was face down on the desk, her feet resting on the floor.  He nudged her feet apart and tilted her hips.  She didn’t say anything, just sucking in a breath as his intentions became clear.  She raised herself up on her toes, lifting her ass higher in the air for him.  He thrust into her easily.

This round wasn’t as relaxed as the previous one had been.  He used the leverage the new position afforded him to ram into her tiny body.  He wasn’t worried about hurting her, he knew how much she could take, how strong she was.  Somehow, that knowledge, combined with her submissive posture before him, turned him on even more as his hips pounded against her reddening bottom.  Buffy pushed back against him as much as her position would allow, but each of his thrusts pressed her against the hard surface of the desk, grinding her clit against the wood.

"Harder," she commanded through clenched teeth.

He complied, pounding her into the desk.  The increased pressure was enough, and Buffy went off again with a wail.  As she came, he withdrew, clasping his fingers around the base of his cock to keep from joining her.  Lindsey wasn’t done playing just yet.  He hissed as he watched her climax wash over her, the muscles of her buttocks and back tensing as she found release.

Panting hard, she pushed herself up on the desk, bracing her weight on her arms.  She looked over her shoulder at her partner, noticing he had yet to find release.  She watched him sink to the floor on his back and straddled him without prompting.  She lowered herself down on his almost painful erection, riding him quickly as she braced her arms against his shoulders.  This seemed to be exactly what Lindsey wanted as he became the most vocal he’d been since they started their little tryst.  He moaned loudly, letting her do what she wanted with his aroused body.  Buffy wasn’t one to disappoint.  If her relationship with Riley had taught her anything, it was how to get herself off.  She reached two more quick climaxes before Lindsey was at the cusp.  But he couldn’t tip over.  He needed one more thing.

Turning his head, Lindsey bared his neck in a blatant display of vampiric submission.  Had the human female he was fucking been anyone other than Buffy Summers, it probably would have gone largely unnoticed.  However, she knew the display well.  She knew what he wanted.  Many a hot night before her seventeenth birthday had ended with her sinking her blunt teeth into the flesh of Angel’s neck while he climaxed in her hand.  Without thinking, she leaned forward, biting violently on the waiting flesh.  He keened loudly, grasping her hips in his hands as he thrust up into her, emptying himself inside her warm body.

It was long moments later when they both recovered.  Buffy was the first to realize just what had happened.  Her mouth was still clasped around his neck, her tongue laving the flesh in her mouth, the *scarred* flesh in her mouth.  She let go, pushing herself into a sitting position on top of him as she looked at the bite ... the healed scar ... the brand on Lindsey’s neck that looked exactly like the one at the base of her own throat.  Her eyes raked up his form to his face.  He would not meet her gaze, his eyes screwed tightly shut as he silently berated himself for his stupidity.

She laughed a high, shrill laugh.  His gaze darted to hers and she looked at him, cocking her head to the side.  She looked slightly manic, but oddly, not angry.

"You’re his bitch too," she said quietly.

The statement shocked her as much as it did him, mostly because of its veracity.  This man, this branded human belonged to her estranged lover as much as she ever had, as much as she still did.  Why did it have to all make sense now, when she was still sitting astride him, his cock still inside her as their mingled fluids slowly leaked from her body?  Lindsey belonged to Angel, that’s why he was helping her.

In one fluid motion, she pushed herself off of him and rose to her feet.  Some part of her expected to feel dirty or disgusted.  This man was Angel’s lover.  They had shared countless carnal acts.  But for some reason, the knowledge did not make her sick or angry.  It just made her sad.  Angel had moved on.

She grabbed her clothes and headed from the office up to her room.  The gods took pity on her and Dawn didn’t notice her disheveled sister walking naked through the house, reeking of sex.  She closed the bathroom door behind herself, locking it quickly.  There was no need, of course, Lindsey had no intention of pursuing her.

Buffy was awakened the next morning by a knock on the door.  The woman introduced herself as Cathy Carson.  She was there to finish up Joyce Summers’ estate.  Buffy looked her over carefully, but quickly came to the conclusion that Angel had  hired the woman sight unseen.  Buffy showed her into the office, relieved that Lindsey had cleaned up after their messy evening.

As she wandered back to her room, Buffy considered what had happened to Lindsey.  Surely he’d returned to L.A., to Angel.  Would Angel hurt him for what he’d done?  Would he punish the lawyer for daring to touch his mate?  Buffy shivered involuntarily, knowing the answer to her unasked question.  And yet, somehow that knowledge incensed her.  What right did Angel have to punish Lindsey for anything?  In short order, she had herself worked into a pretty good rage.  Angel had no reason to be pissed.  She didn’t belong to him.  Whomever she chose to fuck was her business.

Grabbing her purse, she stomped out of the house.  She needed a ride to L.A. and she needed to pick the brain of the only person she knew who might be able to understand what the hell was going on.

"Spike!" she yelled, throwing the door of the crypt open.  "Get your ass in the DeSoto."

The End

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