"So the two halves of the demon grew back together?  Holy
buggerin'...."

Angel nodded.  "That's what I said.  More or less."

"Neat solution, though."

"Yeah, well, flaming fists, nothing to sneeze at.  And bugs!"  Angel
shuddered.  "I hate bugs."

Xander sat at the kitchen table, watching this exchange with thinly
veiled amusement. 

"What?" asked Spike, noting Xander's smirk.  "What trials have you
endured, mate?"

Xander thought for a moment.  "I dated Cordelia *and* Anya.  Does
that count?"

Angel and Spike looked at each other, than back at Xander before
answering in unison.  "Definitely."

Cordelia chose that moment to peek her head in.  "Spike, please,
you've got to do something with Buffy.  We're getting desperate in
here."

"Okay, okay, keep your knickers on, pet.  I'm coming."  He walked
out with Angel close behind.

As Xander started to follow them, Cordy put a hand on his
arm.  "Just so you know?  I heard that."

"Cordy!"  Xander laughed nervously.  "I was just teasing!  You know
me, with the funny, and the fondness for shoe leather tartare?"

"Oh, I know all about your foot in mouth disease," she said with a
sweet smile.  "And I'm sure Anya does too.  In fact, since you're so
fond of shoe leather, I'm sure we'd both be willing to offer you
more.  Say, a nice swift kick in the teeth?"  She turned and stalked
out of the room.

Xander lowered his head in defeat.  "Crap."

*********************

"What time is it?" Buffy asked.

"It is approximately," Wesley pulled back his sleeve and looked at
his watch.  "Seven, no, eight minutes since the last time you asked."

She failed to notice his sarcasm.  "And how long until sundown?"

"Three hours and 15 minutes," answered Spike.  And Angel.  And
Connor.

Buffy began to pace, and the others present let out a collective
groan.  Willow and Fred had gone over and over their research but
had been unable to find any new information.  Giles and Wesley had
discovered nothing else helpful in the texts.  Anya had exhausted
her few remaining demon connections looking for information about
the trials, all to no avail.  And Buffy had spent most of that time
looking over their shoulders.  And pacing. 

"I don't see what the big deal is," said Connor.

Buffy spun on her heel to face him.  "What do you mean, not a big
deal?" she demanded.

"I mean, why don't we just jump the guy when he shows up?  We could
take him!" he said, looking at Buffy, Spike and Angel. 

"Maybe Willow could do a spell," Dawn offered.

"No, I don't like magic.  It never works out the way you want it
to," Connor said.  When Dawn's face fell he added, "um, really good
idea, though."

"Ahem," said Buffy.  "Since when are you in charge, super boy?"

"I'm just trying to help!"

"Connor," said Angel, "we know you're trying to help.  But this
isn't some random demon we're talking about."

"Yeah.  Just what part of `all-powerful' did you not understand?  He
could send us *all* to Quor-toth if he wanted to."  Anya stood up,
hands on hips, and glared at Connor.  "Are you anxious to go back
there?  Because it's never been on my top million list of places to
spend a lifetime!  Not that anyone other than you immortal types is
likely to live very long in a place like that, anyway.  Now, you
might be the Destroyer in that dimension, but here you're just an
unusually strong teenager with an extra dose of glowery genes!" 

She looked down at Giles, who was gingerly feeling the bump on the
back of his head.  He smiled weakly at her.   "I'm sorry.  I'm tired
and I'm cranky and I'm worried.  But everything I said is true." 
She sat back down on the edge of Giles' chair and crossed her arms
over her chest.

Connor slumped back against the cushions, seeming to know when he'd
been beat, and Dawn scooted as far away from him as she could get.

The two vampires stood up against the living room wall, and Spike
nudged Angel.  "Your kid's awfully brash."

"Yeah."  Angel sighed.  "And your point?"

Spike glanced over at the sofa, where Connor was currently shooting
furtive glances Dawn's way.  She was pointedly ignoring him.  Spike
smiled.  "I like him.  Tends to rush in a bit without thinking,
though, doesn't he?"

Angel slowly turned his head toward Spike.  "Yeah, he does tend to
do that," he said flatly.  "Kind of a hot head.  Remind you of
anyone you know?"

Spike rolled his eyes.  "I have no idea what you mean." 

Cordelia walked over and touched Spike's arm.  "Would you *please*
do something?" she asked him quietly.  "Standing here holding up the
wall is not helping.  And you owe me for that little comment in the
kitchen."

"Sorry, pet.  You know I love strong, beautiful women."

Cordy smiled.  "Okay, you're forgiven."

"I love strong, beautiful women too!" Angel said.  Cordelia rolled
her eyes and turned her back to him.

"And speaking of strong, beautiful women, what do you suggest I do? 
Drag her out by her hair?" Spike asked, still watching Buffy,
keeping his own voice low.  "That'd go over well."

"Not caring, at this point," she whispered.  "Use your imagination. 
A little creative distraction, maybe?"

His eyes lit up with an idea, and he gave her a smirk.  "Maybe the
caveman route is not such a good plan, but my idea is only slightly
more evolved.  And she'll probably kill me, but desperate times and
all that rot." 

Cordy patted him on the shoulder.  "It's for the greater good."

He took a deep breath, strode over to Buffy, picked her up and flung
her over his shoulder.

"Hey!" she said, from upside down.  "I know you've always wanted to
sweep me off my feet, but this is heading into proverbially
ridiculous territory, Spike."  Her voice vibrated as she bounced
against his back.

Spike laughed as he began to climb the stairs.  "Well, I'm not
exactly Rhett, and you're certainly no Scarlett, but it does make
for a nice visual, don't you think?"  The rest of the group
applauded as they disappeared from view.

He opened the door to her room, kicked it shut with his foot, and
deposited her on the bed.  "Should I tell *you* to strip now, love?"

She tried to sit up, but quickly gave up and lay back down.  "I
would, but being upside down all that way - head rush!"

Spike laid down next to her and tried to straighten out her hair,
which was now a completely tangled mess.  "Sorry `bout that,
Goldilocks."

She rolled over and lay her head on his chest.  "No you're not. You
had it all planned out, all of you.  Sneaking away to the kitchen. 
Whispering in the corner.  It was all a conspiracy.  I'm sure of it."

"Very true.  Told you before, got to get in all the Buffy time I can
before these bloody trials.  Besides," he said, kissing the top of
her head, "you were driving everyone batty."  He stroked her hair,
smoothing it with his hands, and she burrowed into him as close as
she could.

"You believe what I told you before, right?"

"I do," he answered quietly.

She raised her head and put a hand to his face.  "No, you don't. 
You're afraid I won't feel the same, aren't you?

He sat up, taking her with him and keeping her close to his
side.  "I believe that you meant what you said, that you would love
me soul or no.  But I don't think anyone really knows how they'd
react unless they're faced with a situation.  Right?  Not even me."

Without warning, the portal opened before them, silently this time,
and the robed figure stepped forward.  "It is time."

"It's too early!" Buffy stood up.  "It's way too early.  It hasn't
been a whole day.  You didn't come till after sundown last night."

Spike took a deep breath before standing and placing an arm around
her shoulders.  "It's okay., love."  He forced a smile.  "Let's just
get it over with.  Better than sitting around waiting, don't you
think?"

"I should go get the others...." she began, glancing panic-stricken
toward the door..

"No, Buffy.  This is better.  I'm not much for the big good-bye
scenes.  Besides, this is just a see you later."  He grabbed her
face between his hands and kissed her gently.  "I love you.  Back
soon."

"I love you too," she said.  She looked at the robed figure.  "And
for the record, I really, really hate this."

Spike smiled at her, then addressed the being.  "I'm ready," he
said. 

A moment later, Buffy stood staring at the place where the portal
had been.  Spike was gone.

********************
               
The effects of the portal left Spike slightly dizzy for a moment,
and he leaned over, putting his hands on his knees and closing his
eyes until the feeling passed.  When he finally felt like he could
stand without falling over, he did so and was amazed to find
himself...on the streets of Sunnydale.

He turned to his mysterious companion.  "You needed a portal for
this?"

"We are not actually in your quaint township.  We merely offer
familiar surroundings to make you more...comfortable."

Spike looked up at what appeared to be a very accurate rendition of
the California sky, and noted that the constellations seemed to be
in their familiar places.  "Well, thanks for making it night, at
least."

They began to walk, and Spike could see that they were headed into a
perfect replica of downtown Sunnydale, though there was no one else
about.  The streets were deserted, though shops, homes, and street
lamps were cheerfully lit.           

Spike stole sideways glances at the figure who walked, or rather,
glided beside him.  He waited for him to speak, but the bloke was
obviously not big on idle chit chat.

"Sooo," Spike said, "when do I get to see what I'm up against? 
Flaming fists?  Two-headed demons?  A few creepy crawlies, maybe? 
Or will this be more like what Angel was telling me about, with the
holy water and crosses and such?"      

His companion continued to move forward.  "None of those."

Spike sighed.  "Alright.  That's helpful.  Something worse, then?"
he asked.

The figure stopped and looked at him, and Spike could see its
glowing green eyes and a flash of sharp, white teeth.  "Everything's
relative," the being answered.  It raised a robed arm and with a
dramatic sweep, indicated the building they were standing in front
of.  "We have arrived at our destination," it said.

Spike turned and looked up at the building, one he had passed by
many times before.  In fact, it was right near the police station,
and from where they stood he could see the alley where...no.  Best
not to think of that right now.  The sign identifying the building
was in large letters over the door, and was helpfully lit, though he
could have seen it even in the darkness.

As he read the sign, he started to laugh. 

"You are amused?  Very good," said the robed being, sounding
genuinely pleased.

"Amused?  This is bloody well perfect.  I guess you weren't kidding
when you said I'd be facing trials."

The building they stood before was the Sunnydale Court House.   
   

Only one pair of footsteps echoed off the polished wood floors, as Spike and his companion traveled down the otherwise silent halls of the pseudo Sunnydale Court House.  Spike had given up any half-hearted attempts at sarcasm and small talk, too nervous now to even joke, and glad that they were on the move, at least.  The robed figure glided to a stop in front of a pair of impressively massive wooden doors, and swept an arm toward them.  They swung open to reveal a room full of accusing eyes, which turned as one to stare at him from the wooden benches flanking either side of the large room.
                              
Spike had barely enough time to register that the robed figure had disappeared from his side when he reappeared behind the judge's bench, beckoning Spike forward.

He squared his shoulders and walked briskly to the front of the courtroom, where a lovely dark haired woman in a sharply cut business suit gave him a smirk to rival his own, and stood,  extending a well manicured hand in his direction. 

“William the Bloody, I presume?  I’m Lilah Morgan.  I’ll be serving as your counsel for this trial.”

He nodded and shook her hand.  “I prefer Spike.  And it’s my pleasure,” he replied.  She had a firm grip, and when he met her eyes, he could see that they danced with amusement, and something a tad more dangerous.  He had a feeling the two of them would get on just fine.  Her fabulous legs had absolutely nothing to do with it. 

“Oh, believe me, the pleasure is mine.  I have been *so* bored since I’ve been here.  They’ve had me working on real estate, of all things.”  She pulled out a chair for him, and then sat down at the table.  “Your case is going to be anything but boring.”

“Since you’ve been here?  You mean, you’re....”

“Dead?”  She smiled.  “Afraid so.”

“And so we’re in....?”

“Well, I’m not exactly a lady of leisure here, so definitely not a heavenly dimension.  But not hell either.  This is sort of an in between area, limbo-ish, if you’re so inclined.  Though, being a vampire, probably not.”  She tugged at the silk scarf tied around her neck and shrugged.  “I thought I’d sold my soul, but apparently it was more of a rent-to-own kind of thing.”  She leaned in, her mouth close to his ear.  “So you see, you don’t have to worry.  I’m well motivated.”  She leaned back.  “And besides, I’m a great lawyer, and competitive as hell.”

The judge pounded his gavel and the bailiff stepped forward.  “All rise,” he instructed.

Court was called to order, and the judge informed those present that the reason for their gathering was to determine if Spike deserved the soul he had been granted.  He looked toward the prosecutor and asked if he was ready to begin.

A middle aged man in a three-pieced suit rose from the other table and informed the judge that his witnesses were all present.

“Do you recognize that guy?” Lilah asked, giving Spike a nudge.

“No, should I?”

Lilah shrugged.  “Gee, I don’t know.  His name is Grant Whitaker.  You killed him in 1979.”

Spike stared at the man, his mouth dropping open in horror, which was soon replaced by indignation as he began to sputter.  “Bloody Hell!  That hardly seems fair and unbiased!”

She patted his hand.  “Don’t worry,” Lilah said.  “It gets worse.”

“Worse?  Now wait just a minute, here.  Don’t I get an impartial jury of my peers?”

Lilah scratched some notes on a yellow legal pad.  “Nope, just the big guy.  And oh ... I’m sorry ... do you actually *have* peers, William?”

The first witness was called, and a young woman with dark hair approached the witness stand and slouched in the chair, smacking her gum.

“What about that whole ‘nothing but the truth’ thing they’re s’posed to do?” Spike asked. 

Lilah kept scribbling on her  pad.  “Swearing on bibles?  Come on.  Half of the witnesses would combust.”
   
Whitaker approached the girl.  “State your name, please.”

“Sheila Donovan.”

Spike nudged Lilah.  “I think I know her, too” he said.

Lilah smiled.  “Of course you do,” she said, keeping her voice low.  “Let’s work on defying that whole ‘dumb blonde’ stereotype, shall we, gorgeous?”

Spike bit back a retort and returned his attention to the front of the courtroom.

“And how do you know the defendant?” Whitaker asked her.

“Uh, he, like kidnapped me?  And then he tied me up and hung me from this hook in the ceiling?  And, uh, fed me to his girlfriend.”

“His girlfriend?  That would be the vampire known as Drusilla?”

“Yeah, I think so.  The weirdo one.  With all the dolls.  She vamped me.”  The girl blew a bubble.

“Thank you, Miss Donovan.  Your witness, Ms. Morgan.”

“Oh, no questions,” said Lilah, looking up briefly and smiling at the judge.

“What do you mean, no questions?  You’re just going to leave it that way?” Spike whispered.

Lilah raised an eyebrow.  “What am I going to ask her?  You kidnapped and tortured her and fed her to your girlfriend.  The less she talks, the better.”

Spike slumped down in his chair.

Sheila left the witness box and sauntered down the aisle, snapping her gum and pausing to wink at Spike on the way.

“Next witness.”

“The prosecution calls Eliza Thornton.”  A rather unassuming middle aged woman in a floral dress took the witness stand.

“Who’s this, then?” Spike asked dully.

Lilah sighed.  “Don’t you remember any of your kills?”

“How do you know the defendant, Mrs. Thornton?” asked the prosecutor.

“I was the previous owner of the Magic Box in Sunnydale, California.  The defendant came in one day looking for a spell.  Then he killed me.”  She sniffed and wiped her eyes on an embroidered handkerchief.  “They had to take my cats to the pound.”

“Thank you for relaying that painful information, ma’am,” Whitaker said, patting her on the hand.  “Sorry to put you through that.  Your witness, Ms. Morgan.”

Lilah stood up and walked slowly around the table.  “Good afternoon, Mrs. Thornton.”

“Blessed be,” said the woman.

Lilah smiled sadly.  “I’m afraid it’s a little late for that.  Mrs. Thornton, what was the defendant’s state of mind, in your estimation, at the time of the attack.”

“Well,” she said, looking thoughtful, “I’d say he was quite upset.  And quite drunk!"  She sniffed haughtily.  "I could smell the liquor all over him.  As I recall, he wanted a curse.  Something about boils.”

“And then what happened?”

“Well, let me see.”  The woman paused for a moment.  “A young girl came in the store.  Wanted ingredients for a love spell, I believe.  No.”  She smiled.  “It was for an anti-love spell, actually.  I remember because she called it a de-lusting, and I thought that was cute.  And then...”

“Thank you, Mrs. Thornton.  No further questions, Your Honor.”  Lilah sat back down.

The next witness called was a good-looking young man with short dark hair.  He, Spike remembered.

“Your name, please?” asked Whitaker.

“William Fordham.”

“Can you please tell the court of your experiences with the defendant.”

“Well, let’s see.  He sired me.  And then, when I rose, the slayer staked me.”

“So, first the defendant took away your life, and then was not even in the vicinity when you rose?  He did not even care enough to try and protect you?”  The prosecutor shook his head in disbelief.

“Well, it all happened pretty fast, but I sure didn’t see him.  Just Buffy and Mr. Giles were there, and then, you know, poof.”

“Thank you, Mr. Fordham.  Your witness, Ms. Morgan.”

Spike whispered something to Lilah, which she jotted down on her pad.  Then she stepped out from behind the table and gave Ford her most winning smile.  “Hello, Mr. Fordham.”

Ford smiled back, flattered.  “Ms. Morgan.” 

“Tell me, when did you first make the defendant’s acquaintance?

He shifted in his seat.  “I, um, went to the place where he lived.” 

“Mmm, hmm.  And why was that?  Did you not realize he was a vampire?”

“Uh, no.  I mean, I knew he was.  I was looking for him.  To, umm...”

She took a step closer to Ford.  “I’m sorry, I’m having a little trouble hearing you.  To what?”

He cleared his throat.  “To make a deal.”

“To make a deal for the slayer, a good friend of yours, by the way,  in exchange for him siring you.  Isn’t that right, Mr. Fordham?”

“Well, yeah.  But I was dying!”

“So, that’s your excuse for selling out a friend?”

The prosecutor rose from his seat.  "Objection, Your Honor!  Mr. Fordham is not the one on trial here!"

Lilah folded her hands in front of her.  "Excuse me, Your Honor, but this speaks directly to the reliability of the witness."

The judge's eyes glowed green behind his hood, and he nodded.  "I'll allow it.  The witness will answer the question."

Ford’s voice was desperate  “I didn’t want to die like that.”

“I see.  So tell me, did you deliver the slayer?”

“Uh, yeah.  But he couldn’t go through with it.  Buffy threatened Drusilla, and so he let her go.”

“I see.  Actually, you delivered not only the slayer, but several dozen unsuspecting young people as well, didn’t you?”

“Well, I wouldn’t exactly call them...”

“And, the defendant let them all go.  Why was that, again?”

“Because Buffy was going to kill Drusilla.”

Lilah crossed her arms over her chest and began to walk slowly back and forth in front of the witness stand.  “So, let’s review!  You went to the defendant and *asked* him to sire you, in exchange for the slayer.  Did he hold up his end of the bargain?”

“Yes.”

“Even though he didn’t kill the slayer, am I getting this right?”

“Yes.”

“And he didn’t kill her in order to protect his mistress, Drusilla.  Am I at all in the ballpark, here?”

Ford nodded miserably.  “That about covers it.”

Lilah smiled brightly.  “Thank you, Mr. Fordham.  No further questions, Your Honor.”

Spike grinned as she walked briskly back to the table and sat down.  He leaned over to whisper in her ear.  “Good show, love!”

Lilah went back to her notes, but a slow smile spread across her face as she spoke, more to herself than to him.  “You ain’t seen nothin’ yet.”
                              
tbc ...

“What time is it?”

Everyone in the room let out a collective groan.  They had been forced to watch as she resumed her pacing and obsessive clock watching.  All except for Willow, who had fallen back on baking to soothe her nerves. It also gave her the chance to hide out in the kitchen for a while.  Cookies were done, now, though. She smiled and stuck one in Buffy’s mouth as she walked by.

“Excuse me,” said Gunn, taking advantage of the Slayer’s inability to talk for a moment.  “I hate to bring this up, but  . . .  shouldn’t we have some sort of, I don’t know, contingency plan?”

“Plan for what?” asked Xander.

“For when and if the dude comes back through the portal soulless and ready to rumble.”  He glanced around the room, searching for solidarity.      

Connor walked in from the porch, carrying several stakes and a whittling knife, and sat down on the floor.  “I’ve got enough of these for all of us,” he said.

“Nowajutamint.”  Buffy tore the cookie out of her mouth and swallowed hard.  “Wait.  Just.  A.  Minute.”  She took a predatory step toward Connor and shook the remainder of the oatmeal raisin in his face.  “If you so much as give Spike a *splinter* I will show you what a slayer can do, Young Gun.”

Connor made a move to stand up until Angel caught his eye.  The vampire shook his head.  Connor sat back down.      

“Buffy,” Wesley began, “I would certainly never suggest that any of us know Spike better than you.  But you must understand.”  He gave Angel an apologetic look, and sighed.  “We’ve recently dealt with Angelus, and, therefore, have a very good understanding of the differences between a souled vampire and an unsouled one.”

“Like night and day,” Fred interjected.  “Or, like, night and really dark night.  Or, perhaps, more like  twilight and the deepest, blackest  . . . ”

“Fred  . . . . ”  Angel gave her a tight smile, and she ducked her head.

“Sorry.”  She took a bite of her cookie.

“As I was saying,” Wes continued, “given our recent experiences, you will forgive us if we are a bit  . . .  concerned.”

Buffy took a deep breath.  “I understand.  I do.  But, you don’t.  Not really.  With all due respect to Angel, this is a completely different situation.”

“How so?” asked Gunn.  “You’re telling me there’s no difference between him souled and unsouled?”

“No, I’m not saying that.  It’s just that  . . . .”  She looked helplessly at Dawn.

“The important things are the same,” Dawn said.  “Like, he loves Buffy, either way.”

Buffy smiled.  “You too, Dawnie.”  She looked around the room.  “And that means, he wouldn’t hurt any of you.  He just wouldn’t.”

“How do you know?”  Connor did stand up this time, leaving his stakes in a pile on the floor.  “Angelus pretended to be Angel, and, like idiots, we believed him.  We actually let him go.  Who knows what kind of damage he did before we caught him again?”

“Not much,” Angel muttered.

“Okay, I have an idea,” Anya said.  She was sitting on the sofa with Giles and now she leaned forward, eyes alight with enthusiasm.  “You’ve had sex with him sans soul, *and* soulful, Buffy.  Surely there’s a difference, with all the credit souls get for romance in this culture.  Technique? Stamina?  Quality of orgasms, perhaps?”  She smiled brightly.

A flush of red began at Buffy’s neckline and spread upward, quickly encompassing her entire face.  “Could someone please change the subject?”

“Not me.”  Cordelia wiggled her eyebrows and smiled devilishly from the chair where she was curled up.  “Inquiring minds want to know.”

The room went quiet and all eyes turned to Buffy.  “Uh.  Well.  You see, the problem with that  . . .  er  . . .  theory, is that I’m the one  . . .  I mean before, I was, and he was, wow, and then after  . . .  well, also with the wow, but also before, and  . . . ”

“Please, for the love of God, make it stop,” Angel pleaded. 

Buffy breathed a sigh of relief.  “Right.  Sorry.  Happy to oblige.”

Giles pulled Anya to her feet.  “Care for a breath of fresh air?”  As he led her outside onto the porch he said, “You were quite naughty in there, Anya.”

She smiled and pressed herself against him.  “Whatever do you mean?   I’m just strangely literal and obsessed with sex.”  She kissed his cheek.

He smiled back, lifting her hand and threading his fingers through hers.  “You can’t fool me, love.  That’s a reputation you often use to your advantage, but occasionally with, shall we say, ulterior motives.”

She nuzzled his neck.  “Oh come on.  I was dying of boredom in there, and so were you.  Admit it.”

He tried valiantly to suppress a grin.  “Well, I must say, you certainly know how to liven up a discussion.”

She pressed more tightly against him and breathed into his ear.  “Yes, you do know me well, Rupert.  Except the obsession with sex part?”  Her voice dropped to a whisper.  “Completely.  True.”

***

“Objection, Your Honor, a three-year-old is far too young to be a reliable witness!  The prosecution knows that!  He’s just grandstanding!”  Lilah stood, banging her fist on the table and glaring at the prosecutor.

“Objection sustained.  In any case, I believe I got all the information I needed when the child ran screaming from the room upon seeing the defendant.”  The judge’s teeth flashed white and sharp behind the hood.  “We’ll take a five minute recess.”

Lilah sat back down.  The appearance of the child, complete with coal bin dust,  had been a definite setback.  “Well, that was just peachy.  I swear that was actually one of those Culkin kids.  Are they all still alive?”  She shook her head.  “Okay, Spike, we need to go over a few things for our defense.  It’ll be our turn, soon.  Spike?”  She looked toward the non-responsive vampire and found him slumped in his chair with his fingers pressed to his temples as he fought to contain his emotions.

“Oh, great.  Just great.”  She sighed.  Considering they were both souled vampires, this one couldn’t be any more different from the great stoic one if he tried.  No, he reminded her a little bit of someone else instead, with the haunted eyes, and the . . . never mind.  This was no time to get distracted.  She put a hand on her client’s arm.  “Spike?”

He took his hands down, taking several deep breaths, which unfortunately did not seem to calm him.  “Bugger the defense.  Don’t deserve a sodding defense.”

Lilah rolled her eyes.  “Oh, please.  Don’t tell me I’ve got a martyr on my hands.”

Spike laughed.  “Martyr?  Yeah, right.”  He moved his face to within an inch of her own.  “Don’t you get it?  I killed that kid.  And a hundred more like her.  How are you going to defend that?”

Lilah didn’t flinch.  “Without a soul.  Would you like to know the kind of things I did with one?”  The judge pounded his gavel and called the court back in session, and Spike sat back in his chair.  “Now, pull yourself together.  You’re making me look bad.  And I’m a sore loser.”

***      

Buffy sat down a few steps below Angel, who had found temporary refuge on the Summers staircase.  “Hiding out?” she asked.

“Of course not,” he answered.  “I’m a people person.”

Buffy snorted out a laugh, but her smile was soon replace by lip chewing and brow furrowing.

“I don’t suppose telling you not to worry would do much good, would it?” Angel asked.

She shook her head.  “Doubt it.”

“Okay.  So how about, he’s the most annoying, tough, stubborn son of a bitch I ever came up against?  And did I mention annoying?”

A hint of a smile returned.  “Helps a little.  Though I pretty much already knew that.  It’s just . . .”  She looked up at Angel.  “I shouldn’t be talking to you about this.”

“Why not?  We’re friends, right?” he said softly.

“Of course, it’s just  . . .  I was going to say, Spike’s been through so much already, but look at what you’ve gone through.  What you deal with every day.  With the guilt, and the curse, and . . .”

“And look what you’ve been through, with the dying and the resurrection.  And look what Connor has been through.  Or Willow.  We all have our own stuff, Buffy.  Spike’s is just as valid as mine or anyone else’s.”

She wiped a tear from her face.  “Thanks.”

The sat in silence for a moment.  “What are you going to do if they take his soul?” he asked.

She didn’t look at him, but drew a deep, shuddering breath.  “I know he’ll still love me.  He always has.  I told him I would still love him.  That I’d be there for him.”

His voice was so low, she could barely hear the words.  “And *will* you?”

She looked up into his eyes.  “I know I’ll still love him.”  She smiled sadly.  “After all, I still loved you.  But will I be able to handle it?  I don’t know, Angel,” she whispered.  “I just don’t know.”

***

The prosecution called its last witness.  A young woman with wavy blond hair, casually dressed in blue jeans and a short sleeved shirt took the stand.  She appeared nervous, like she didn’t know what to do with her hands.  She rubbed her bare arms as if she was cold.

“State your name, please.”

“M . . .  my name is Natalie.  Natalie Maxwell.”

“And how do you know the defendant?” 

Her eyes flitted quickly over to Spike, then away again.  “I met him at a club.  The Bronze,” she said quietly.  “He was sitting by himself at the bar.  I was by myself, too, so . . . .”  She shrugged.

“Please describe what happened next.”

“Well, we started talking, and, he just seemed so sad, you know?  And I was kind of down that night, too.  My boyfriend had dumped me a few days before, and he was at the bar that night with someone else.  I guess I was trying to make my ex jealous, at first.  You know, sitting down next to this cute guy?  But after we got to talking, I sort of really liked him.  There was this girl that he was upset about, too.  He didn’t say much about her, but I could tell.”

“You thought you’d found a kindred spirit, did you?”

“Yes.”

“I’m not surprised.  He’s good at that.”

“Objection, your honor.  The prosecutor is editorializing.”  Lilah barely looked up from her notes.

“Withdrawn.  All right, Natalie.  Please continue.  Did you eventually leave the bar?”

“Yes.  I asked him to walk me home.  He was so sweet.  He didn’t even try to hold my hand.  Kept his hands in his pockets the whole time.  Then, when we got to my place, I  . . .  well, I asked him up.  I usually don’t do things like that!”

“Of course not.”  Whitaker nodded in understanding. 

“But he seemed so nice.  I mean, had to ask him like three times  . . . . ”  Her voice dropped off until you could barely hear her last words.  Lilah watched as Spike leaned forward, jaw clenched, eyes full of tears.

“And?”  Whitaker prodded gently.

A tear rolled slowly down her face.  “He was a vampire,” she said.  “I should’ve known.  I lived in Sunnydale long enough.  I didn’t even  . . .  “ She laughed half-heartedly.  “I’m so stupid.   I thought he liked me.  I actually thought he liked me.”

Whitaker stepped forward and handed her a tissue.  “No further questions, Your Honor.”

“Your witness, Ms. Morgan.”

Lilah looked at Spike, who had buried his head in his hands, then at the young woman who now sat miserably on the witness stand, mascara running down her face.  Lilah shook her head. 

“No questions.”   

tbc . . .
           

“The prosecution rests, your honor.” 

And so the torture ended, though Spike was barely able to register this; there was no comfort to be found in these words, no sense of relief.  Not after he had sat, hour upon hour, and listened to a litany of accusations and indictments, unspeakable wrongs committed against the innocent, and from their very own mouths.  Victim after victim, some crying, some burning with anger.  Some yet cowered in fear at the sight of him, though William the Bloody could hurt them no longer.

The worst of it?  Every word they said was true. 

He could feel himself sinking deeper and deeper into a chasm of hopelessness.  When he took on this challenge, he had been determined to keep his soul, for Buffy’s sake.  All that seemed so long ago, because it didn’t matter to him what happened anymore.  Soul or no soul, he wasn’t fit to go on.  Didn’t deserve to exist, especially on the same plane as Buffy.  As for her love, who were they kidding?  Of course she never loved him without a soul.  She couldn’t have.  Shouldn’t have. 

“Time for us to present our defense,” he heard Lilah say.

He glanced her way.  Even through his haze of despair, he was still able to appreciate her measured efficiency, her cool confidence in the face of overwhelming odds. 

And her legs.  Nice gams on that one.

“Defense?”  He ran a weary hand over his face and reached for a glass of water.  “Weren’t you listening, pet?  Or did you fall asleep?  Come to think of it, didn’t hear nary an ‘I object’ outta you the whole time.”  His sarcasm didn’t last long.  “ ‘Course, given that I slaughtered innocent people for fun, I can understand why.  They were just tellin’ the truth, poor souls.”

Lilah’s glare would’ve struck fear in the heart of most men.  Spike was too tired to do much more than raise an eyebrow.  “You know, *William*, I’m getting a little tired of this woe is me routine.  Yeah, you killed people.  So what, this is news to you?”

“Never had to look ‘em in the eye and hear about the husbands and wives and children they left behind before, now did I?”

“Look ... yes.  I understand that must be very difficult.”  She sighed heavily, and he almost smiled at the expression on her face.  This sympathy thing was obviously difficult for her, but she was trying.  “The thing is, as far as this trial goes, it is so not the point.  And the reason I didn’t object is that the prosecution is doing my job for me.”

“How do you figure?”

“The worse you look before, the more impressive the fact that you sought out your soul.”

He nodded.  “I see what you’re sayin’.  But Lilah ....”

So much for sympathy.  “No more ‘but Lilah’s!’  I’m the boss of you right now, and I say we’re doing fine.  And I told you before, I don’t intend to lose.  So just stop your whining already.”  Her voice softened then.  “Spike.  You did an amazing thing.  You loved someone enough to change your entire way of life - unlife - for her.  I know how hard that is.  There aren’t a lot of people who are willing, or able, to do that.  I’m going to make sure the judge sees how amazing it is, too.”

Somehow he got the feeling that this was as much about her as it was about him.    Still, he was glad to have her looking out for him.  “Appreciate what you’re doing for me, pet.  Really, I do.”

She began to thumb through a stack of papers on the table.  “Well, we’ve got to get through this and get you back to that slayer of yours, now, don’t we?  I have a feeling if she doesn’t like how I handle things, there’ll be hell to pay for me.”  She looked up and smiled.  “So to speak.”

He smiled a bit too, thinking of Buffy in her fierce, protective mode.  Wasn’t quite used to it being directed his way, even now.  “Yeah, I suppose you’re right at that.”  He shook his head.  “The woman deserves so much better than me.”
           
“Well, I’m not the big love expert like you,” she said, “but I bet that little slayer of yours doesn’t love you because she thinks you’re what she deserves.”  She glanced sideways at him, and her voice lost its mocking tone.  “She loves you because you’re what she needs.”

***

He looked thoughtful after that comment, much better than distraught, weepy, and numb, which were the looks he wore while the prosecution presented its case.   Although she hoped the judge had noticed how upset he’d been.

Whitaker leaned around his assistant and gave Lilah a self-satisfied smirk.  She smiled back with as much ice as she could muster.  Go ahead and gloat, asshole.  The bigger they are, the louder they scream when they get sucked into the next hell dimension.

“Is the defense ready to call its first witness?” the judge asked.  He smiled his bright, sharp smile in anticipation.

“We are, your honor.”  Lilah patted Spike’s arm.  “Buck up, soldier,” she said, under her breath.   “I’m about to call in the big guns now.”  She stood up and smiled confidently at the judge.  “The defense calls Joyce Summers.”   

***

“Can we talk?” 

Cordelia nodded and slid over to make room for Angel on the sofa.  “Looks like the young lovebirds are on the outs already,” she observed.  Connor had run out of weapons to sharpen, and was now playing a video game, stealing glances at Dawn every few moments.  She continued to ignore him in the most obvious way possible.  “That’s some Olympic caliber hair-tossing, right there,” Cordy said, looking at Dawn with admiration.  “I give her a perfect 10.”

“Thank God.” Angel sighed.  “Not that she’s not a great girl, it’s just ...”  He exhaled loudly.  “I’m not ready.”

She smiled gently and patted his knee.  “Yeah, I know.  But don’t be thanking anyone quite yet.  You know what they say.  Opposites attract, there’s a fine line between love and hate, pick your cliche.”

“Better late than never?”  He smiled hopefully.  “I’m really sorry about ... before.  It didn’t have anything to do with Buffy, it’s just ...”

“It’s just what you do.  I know.  Helping the helpless and all that.  Except, she’s about as opposite of helpless as you can get.”

He sighed.  “I know, I know.  I get back here and I fall into old routines, I guess.  Plus, I’m not used to being a part of a family, and now that I have you and Connor to consider, well, I don’t always remember that.”

She bit her lip.  “You consider me your family?”

Angel glanced over at his son, but Connor was still preoccupied with Dawn.  Yet another of his defenders bit the dust while he was looking at her instead of the screen, and Connor threw down the controls in disgust.

Angel took her hand in his.  “Cordy, you know how I feel about you.  But, I’ve been afraid for us to be together like, well, like a real couple.”

“You mean sex.”

He cleared his throat.  “You’re very straightforward.  I admire that.”

“Yeah, sure, and I had no idea vampires could blush until right this second.”

“It’s not like I don’t think about it.  All the time.”

She reached out to touch his face.  “Angel, so do I.”

“It’s a risk, you know that.”

“Now that you know about the curse, I think it’s a pretty small one.  So does Wesley.”

“Wesley?”  He pulled at his collar.  “Is it warm in here?”

“I made him help me with research.  The psychology of vampires is not a well known field.  It was pretty damn funny, actually.”

Angel laughed, putting his arms around her and kissing her.  “I really, really love you.”

“I love you too.  And if it makes you feel any better,  I have it on good authority from my own research - with romance novels and sappy movies - that love is *always* a risk.”

***

Spike stood up so quickly that his chair rocked back, clattering against the wood floor until Lilah reached out and steadied it. 

“Joyce,” he said, his voice barely making it above a whisper.  The woman coming down the aisle smiled at him sweetly before taking the witness stand.  All he could think of was how much Buffy would give to see her mum again.

Lilah whispered to Spike to sit down.  “Could you state your name for the court, please,” she then asked the witness.

“Joyce Summers.”

“And what is your relationship to the defendant?”

“He’s a ... friend.”  She smiled at Spike again.

Lilah stepped around the table and walked closer to the witness stand.  “Really?  Tell me, how long have you known him?”

“Oh, we met several years before I died.  He was helping my daughter.”

“And your daughter is Buffy, the vampire slayer?”

Joyce sat up a little taller in her seat. “I have two wonderful daughters, and one of them is a vampire slayer, yes.”

“Help me out here, Mrs. Summers.  Why was a vampire helping a vampire slayer?”

“Well, I didn’t realize it at the time, but I found out later that he helped her save the world.”

“Save the world?”

“That’s what Buffy said.  She said she couldn’t have done it without his help.  And she wasn’t just saying it, believe me.  She didn’t like him much at the time.”

Lilah, looked surprised.  “Wow, that’s pretty impressive.  Oh, and by the way, when the defendant helped save the world, did he have a soul?” she asked.

“No, Spike did not have a soul at the time of my death.  That apparently came much later.”

The people sitting in the courtroom gasped.

“You mean to tell me that a soulless vampire helped a slayer save the world?”

“Yes, I think I just said that.  Several times.”

Lilah smiled.  “Indeed you did.  Thank you Mrs. Summers.  Now, let me ask you this -  how often was Spike in your home?” 

“Oh, many, many times.”

“Did he ever try to hurt you?”

“No, never.  In fact, Buffy asked him to protect Dawn - that’s my younger daughter - and I more than once.”

“And did he?”

“Yes, he did.”  She smiled at Spike.  “I’ll never forget that.”

Lilah began walking back to her seat.  She paused midway and turned back to the witness stand.  “Thank you, Mrs. Summers.  No further questions, your honor.”

“Your witness,” intoned the judge. 

The prosecutor stood up and frowned, looking down at his notes.  “Mrs. Summers, I believe you’ve misspoken.  Isn’t it true that the first time you met the defendant, he was trying to kill your daughter?”

Her brow furrowed in concentration.  “Oh.  Oh, I’d forgotten that, yes.”

“And isn’t it also true that when he was in your home all those times, the defendant had a government chip in his head that prevented him from harming humans?”

“Well yes, but ...”

“And isn’t that the real reason that he didn’t hurt you or anyone else?”

“Perhaps he couldn't hurt us, but he didn't have to help us.”

Whitaker sighed.  "Your honor, the witness is being unresponsive."

"The witness will answer the question," said the judge.

Joyce glared at the prosecutor.  “That may have been part of it, yes.  But I still don’t think ...”

“Thank you.  Now, tell me, Mrs. Summers, what was your reaction when you discovered the defendant had fallen in love with your daughter?”

“I was ... concerned,” she said.   

“And what happened when your daughter tried to tell the defendant that she wasn’t interested in him?”

Joyce looked over at Spike, and he nodded to her to continue.  “He, well, he tried to convince her that he really loved her.”

“How?”

Joyce sighed.  “He chained her up in his crypt and offered to kill another vampire to prove his love.”

“I see.  He sounds like a great guy to have over for tea.”

Lilah raised herself halfway out of her chair.  “Objection.  Editorializing.”

“Withdrawn.  Tell me, what did your daughter do then?”

“She had her friend Willow, she’s a witch, do a disinvite spell on the house.”

“Did you ever speak to the defendant again?”

“No.”  She shook her head sadly.

“No further questions.”

“Redirect, your honor,” Lilah said.  Spike leaned over and whispered in her ear, and she smiled and nodded to him.  “Mrs. Summers, did the defendant have that behavioral chip every time he was in your house?”

Joyce thought for a moment, then her eyes lit up.  “No!  No he didn’t.  We had hot cocoa.  He likes those little marshmallows.”

“Really?”  Lilah grinned at Spike, and he rolled his eyes at her.  “That’s very ... cute.  And how long was he in your home that time?

“A couple of hours, at least.  He was very upset - girl problems.  He needed someone to talk to.”

“Did he make any attempt to harm you?”

“He did not.”

Lilah spoke briskly.  “No further questions.  Thank you Mrs. Summers.”

Spike stood up again as Joyce walked by and took her hand.  “Joyce.  It’s so good to see you.”

She placed her other hand on top of his and looked into his eyes.  “Good luck, Spike,” she said. She squeezed his hand and walked away.

“You may call your next witness,” said the judge.

“Thank you, your honor.  The defense calls Tara McClay.”

***

“Are you awake?”  Xander paused a moment, and then almost had the door pulled shut again before he heard Buffy answer.

“Yeah, you can come in.” 

She sat up and pulled the elastic out of her hair.  “Everyone getting along okay down there?” 

Xander shrugged.  “No major injuries,’ he said, sitting down next to Buffy.  “Angel and Cordelia made up.  In fact, it’s a regular love fest down there, between them and Fred and Willow making with the googly eyes.”

Buffy placed her hand over top of his.  “What about Giles and Anya?”

He made a disgusted face.  “They’re taking a ‘nap’ in the guest room,” he said, making little air quotes with his fingers around the word ‘nap.’

“And?”

“And what?”

“Are you okay?”

He tried to smile reassuringly.  “I can’t complain.  My significant other has not been transported to another dimension.  You, on the other hand, have full complaining rights.”
                           
“I ... what about Dawn?  I should go check on her.” 

Buffy went to get up, but Xander gave her a gentle push back down.  “I just did.  She’s in her room listening to depressing music.  She says Connor is an idiot and not that cute and she never liked him anyway.”

Buffy smiled.  “So it’s not a total love fest.  Except we both know she’s all denial girl.”

“Takes one to know one, Cleopatra.”

Buffy sighed and leaned back against the pillow she had propped against the headboard, hugging her knees.  “Go ahead.  Rub it in.  God, I wasted so much time.”

Xander leaned back next to her.  “What are you so worried about?  They said he’s coming back, one way or the other.”

She turned her head to look at him.  “It’s the other that I’m worried about.”

“Alright, then.  Let’s address the elephant in the room, shall we?  Hello, elephant.”

Buffy spoke quietly.  “Hello, soulless Spike.”

“He’d still love you to distraction, you know that.”

“I know.  That’s not what I’m afraid of.”

Xander reached out and took her hand.  “Ah.  So you’re afraid that you won’t love him, is that it?” She shrugged.  “Is that really something you can turn on and off like a faucet, Buff?  I know I couldn’t.  When Anya became a demon again, I hated it.  But I still loved her.”

“I know, and no, I can’t just turn it off.  But before, it was so ... ugly.  And it wasn’t just him.  Even when he tried to do the right thing, I just kept ...”  She dropped Xander’s hand.  “Evil, soulless, thing.  That’s what I called the guy I was sleeping with.  And I wasn’t the only one.”

“Okay, first of all, I never slept with him.  I swear.” 

Buffy snorted.  “I meant ... “

Xander smiled.  “I know what you meant.  And I’ll ignore the fact that you just changed the subject and turned it all back on me for the time being.  You want to know about how I feel about all this?  He’s my friend, now, and I don’t have that many, so I can’t afford to lose one.  And if he’s my friend because of what he is, not who he is, then I’m not much of a friend, am I?”

“But he would be different.  He wouldn’t give a crap about anything he’s done in the past.  The only reason he wouldn’t eat people is because of me, not because he cares.  He’d be different.”  Buffy let her head fall back against the pillow and closed her eyes.  “I just can’t think about this anymore.  It’s making me crazy.”

“You want some advice from a former Spike-hater and many time loser in the love game?”

Buffy smiled and opened her eyes.  “Sure.”

“Don’t think.  Just feel.” 

She put her arms around him and hugged him tight.

tbc ...

“Ms. McClay, how long did you know the defendant?”  Lilah sat on the edge of the table, legs crossed at the knee, and glanced down at her notes.

“About three ... three years, I guess.”

“Did the defendant have a soul at that time?”

“No, he didn’t.”

“And yet he saved your life on numerous occasions, is that correct?”

Tara nodded.  “Mine and the others.  The Scoobies.”  She smiled shyly.

Lilah dropped her legal pad on the table and approached the witness stand.  “Ms. McClay, did you like the defendant?”

Tara glanced nervously at Spike.  “W...well, I wouldn’t call us best friends or anything.  I was a little ... intimidated by him.  But I k....kind of had a soft spot for him, I guess you’d say.”

Lilah smiled.  “And why was that?”

Tara took a drink of water.  “Well, there was this time when I, sort of wasn’t m...myself, for awhile.  After Glory ...” she trailed off.

“Your mind had been damaged by the hell god known as Glory, correct?”

Tara gave her a grateful look.  “Yes, that’s right.  And I accidentally burned Spike.  I pulled back a curtain and he got burned by the sun.”

“Really?  And what was his reaction - this soulless, evil vampire?”

“He...he said it was okay.  He kind of made a joke about it.  Even though his hand was smoking.  He was ... kind, to me.”

“Interesting.  Was Buffy Summers there to witness this?”

“No, she was in another room.”

“I see.  Oh, and one more thing.  Is it true that Buffy Summers confided in you several months later, when she began her affair with the defendant.”

Tara nodded.  “Yes.”

“What advice did you give her?”

“I told her that I thought it was okay, that Spike had done a lot of good, and that I knew he loved her.”

Lilah leaned in close to Tara.  “Thank you, Miss McClay.” 

“Your witness,” said the judge, as Lilah returned to her seat.

The prosecutor scowled down at his notes.  “No questions, your honor.”

“Very well.  The witness is excused.  Ms. Morgan?”

Lilah stood up.  “Ms. McClay was our last witness, your honor.  The defense would now like to present a videotaped record of the trials the defendant endured to obtain his soul into evidence.”

“There was videotape?” Spike asked.  Lilah hushed him.

“Very well,” the judge intoned.  “We will take a short recess, and then view the video.  If you have no more witnesses, this will be followed directly by closing statements.  Please be prepared.”  He vanished in a flash of blue light.

“Spike,” Tara said, placing a hand on his arm.  “It’s so good to see you!”

Spike stood to embrace her.  “You too, pet.”

“Ever the gallant knight, I see, fighting for your lady.”

Spike snorted out a laugh.  “Oh, right.  Said lady was about to kick my ass for doing this.  And she still might.”

“And that would be a bad thing?”  She gave him a coy smile.

He smiled back.  “Not necessarily.”

The bailiff gestured for Tara.  “Oops, looks like I have to go now.”  She touched his arm again.  “Good luck.”

“Thanks, pet.”

“Oh, and Spike?”  She paused and turned back to him.  “Could you do me a favor?”

“Anything.”

“Tell Willow... tell her I’m okay, and I’m glad she’s happy.  Will you do that?”

He nodded and watched as the bailiff led her out the door.
      
***

“... So in conclusion, the defendant clearly obtained a soul for purely selfish reasons - solely, pardon the pun, for the love of a woman.  He has led an unusually cruel and violent life, even for a vampire.  Nothing he could do as a souled being could ever make up for that, even if he wanted to, of which I’ve seen no evidence.  The fact is, he wants to keep his soul only to keep his place in the Slayer’s bed.”  With a satisfied look in Lilah’s direction, the prosecutor took his seat. 

The judge nodded to Lilah, and she stood for her closing statement.

“Well,” said Lilah, standing up behind the table, “I have to tell you.  I agree with the prosecutor.  Spike went and got his soul for the love of a woman.  That is a fact.  A soulless, evil vampire endured incredibly difficult physical trials to obtain a soul, because it was something a woman he loved deemed valuable.”  She glanced over at Whitaker and shrugged.  “Happens every day, right?”

She walked around the table and stood in front of the judge.  “As for his actions before the soul?  Well, I can assume that the court is not  interested in the violence that occurs in the earthly dimension; if the court was, the court would not be considering sending an unsouled, unchipped Spike back into the world.  But since the prosecutor made that point, let me address it.  Yes, an unusually violent existence, even for a vampire.  I agree with that too!” 

She smiled sweetly at the prosecutor, who just scowled at her.  “And maybe it’s just me, but that makes his later actions even more remarkable.  He loved a woman, a human woman, when he didn’t have a soul.  He loved her mother, and her little sister.  And while he couldn’t hurt people, he didn’t have to help them. Yet he did.  You’ve heard the testimony of the witnesses, including Joyce Summers herself.  He tried to change for them, the best he could.  And when *he* thought it wasn’t enough, he went out and got himself a soul.  Does he deserve to keep her love?  Does he deserve to keep his soul?”  She focused her gaze on the judge.  “I guess I’ll have to leave that up to you.”   

The judge nodded and his eyes glowed green behind the hood.  “The defendant will rise,” he said, after a moment.  Spike looked at Lilah, and then slowly stood.  The judge leaned forward. “The court wishes to know your opinion.”

“My... opinion?”

“Yes.  The court has heard the testimony of a few people you have helped, and many more who are but a fraction of the lives you ruined.  Do you deserve your soul?  What is your opinion?”

Spike’s gaze traveled from the judge, to the prosecutor, and finally to Lilah.  He smiled apologetically at her, and leaned forward with his hands on the table.

“Bugger it all.”

There was an audible gasp from those in attendance, and a gavel appeared from within the judge’s voluminous robe.  “Order!” he said, pounding the gavel on the desk.  “Explain,” he said, pointing the gavel at Spike.

Spike stood up straight.  “The sodding soul’s mine.  I bloody well earned it, and suffered for it.  Still do, as I well deserve, I know.  And I did it for Buffy, that’s true.  But the damn thing’s mine now.  You want to take it?  That’s your right, given that I volunteered to take her place.  Don’t see the logic, myself, but it’s plain you’ve got your bloody bureaucracy here just like everywhere else.  So go ahead and take it, see if I care.  I’ll just go and get it back again, anyhow.  Hear the Serengeti’s nice this time of year.”  Spike sat down and crossed his arms over his chest.

The judge smiled his bright, sharp smile.  “Well, I see that I chose the correct vampire.  This has indeed been quite entertaining.  I will return shortly with my verdict,” he said, and disappeared.
                       
“You’ve just gotta be you, is that it?”

Spike put his hand over Lilah’s.  “Sorry, love.”

She shook her head and gave him a rueful smile.  “Don’t worry.  I think we’ve still got a shot,” she said.  She doodled on her legal pad.  “I hope we’ve still got a shot,” she mumbled.

“What happens to you if we lose?”

“You don’t want to know.”

“Lilah ...”

She smiled, and hoped it looked more reassuring than it felt.  “Look, can’t be much that’s worse than real estate law, right?  We just have to be patient, and wait for the judge’s decision now.”

Spike leaned back in his chair, balancing on the two back legs.  “Hope he doesn’t take too bloody long.” 

“I do.  In my experience, the longer the judge deliberates, the more likely the verdict will be in the defendant’s favor.”

The judge appeared back in his seat with a flash of light.

The front legs of Spike’s chair hit the wood floor with a bang.  “Bugger.”

Lilah put a hand on his shoulder.  “You’ve been a great client, William.  I hope this goes your way.”

He squeezed her hand.  “Me too, love.  You were fantastic.”

“Now that the mutual admiration society is over, can you do a little favor for me, too?”

“Anything, love.”

“When you go back, tell Wesley ...” 

The bailiff called “All rise ...”

“What, Lilah?  Might not have much time.  Tell Wesley what?”

She smiled, soft and genuine.  “Tell Wesley that I look good in grey.”

***

The house was unusually quiet, though Wesley could hear music playing behind a closed door somewhere.  Everyone had been very relieved when Spike returned, and although Wesley was extremely curious as to the vampire’s soul status, he seemed to be the only one other than Connor to give it much thought.   Unfortunately, the vampire had been in no condition to provide any information at the time.  Old habits died hard, though, so Wes had taken his journal into a quiet corner and carefully recorded all the additional  information he had, in hopes that it might help with future translations.   He trusted Spike would be able to give him more details, once he’d gotten some well deserved rest.  When Wes finally closed the book and looked up, everyone else seemed to have disappeared.

Stepping out onto the porch for a breath of fresh air, he found Gunn and Xander Harris there, sitting on the porch steps.

“Hey look, it’s the other single guy,” Xander said, his tone rather morose.  “Join the club.  The sad, lonely, depressed, the girl I love is sleeping with someone else now club.”

“I’m sorry?” Wesley asked.  He must have missed something. 

Gunn looked over his shoulder at Wes.  “He means, everyone else has coupled up, English.”

Wes smiled.  “Even Lorne?”

“Lorne drove Dawn and Connor to get ice cream.  And it’s a good thing he got them out of here when he did, with all the pheromones flying around this place.”  Xander glanced at the upstairs windows, and sighed heavily.

Wes nodded in sympathy.  “Well, I don’t suppose it’s all that surprising that Buffy and Spike ... “

“I meant Anya and Giles.”

“And Fred and Willow,” Gunn said.

“Really?  Fred and ... Willow?”  Wes looked up at the windows himself.  “I didn’t realize this house had that many bedrooms.”

“I think Angel and Cordelia are in the basement,” Gunn added.

“What?  Angel and Cordelia are ... ?”

Xander nodded.  “There’s a lot of sex going on in that house.  A lot of sex.”

“Well, you know what they say.”  Gunn looked at Wesley expectantly.

“Uh, when the going gets tough, the tough get going?” Wes offered.

Gunn stood up.  “I was thinking more along the lines of, if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em.”

“I don’t think I understand ... “

“I’m with you.”  Xander stood up and put an arm over Gunn’s shoulder, and both of them smiled at Wesley.  “You want to join us, Wes?”

“I ... thank you ... for ... thinking of me, but I, uh, think I’m going to take a walk.”  Wes pushed through the two other men and rushed down the porch steps.

Xander looked at Gunn and shrugged.  “I guess he doesn’t want any ice cream.”

***

She couldn’t believe he was really here.  Unconscious, but still - in her home, in her bed.  How he’d gotten there was a pretty funny story, though he probably wouldn’t think so.  She smiled and reached out to touch his face, his hair, the smooth skin of his chest where the top buttons of his shirt were unbuttoned.  She wished she could tell just by looking at him, but the truth was, he always had looked so innocent and boyish when he slept.  She used to watch him sleep, during the badness of their first affair; it was the only time that she really looked at him, studied him, allowed herself to wish that things were different.  She’d never gotten further than “different,” though.  She couldn’t bear to.  But he’d gone out and made things different anyway.  And wasn’t that just like Spike.

It was all right, though.  She trusted him to tell her the truth.  Buffy lay down and gently rested her head on his chest.  She hadn’t been able to tell right away when he’d gone and gotten himself a soul.  Would she be able to tell now if he’d lost it?

***

The last thing he remembered was being transported to the Summers living room via express portal, falling over dizzy, and looking up at Angel’s kid, who had a stake aimed at his heart.  Then he had promptly passed out.  Or perhaps the kid did dust him, because wherever he was now sure felt like heaven.  There was a fluffy pillow beneath his head, and a warm girl covering his body.  Her hair streamed out across his chest and arm, one strand tickling his face.  Her breath caressed his skin, one soft puff at a time.  Her eyes were closed but she was awake; he could tell by the rhythm of her breathing, and her heart.

“Buffy?” he said softly.  She raised her head and smiled, a smile touched with concern.

“Hey.  How are you?”

He looked around the room, which was cast in a warm, golden glow.   Late afternoon, close to sundown.  It was a bit close in the room, windows shut and draperies pulled tight, and everything was hazy and warm.  “How long I been out?”

She glanced at the clock on the night stand.  “About an hour is all.”

He sat up and rubbed his eyes, trying to clear his vision.  But it seemed it was his head and not his sight that was a bit clouded up.  “Last thing I remember, Connor was about to dust me.”

Buffy giggled.  “Not really.  Super boy just gets a little overly enthusiastic.  He knew if he touched you, though, I’d kick his ass all the way back to Qu’or Toth.  And then you seemed pretty harmless with the being out cold and all.”

He rubbed a hand over his face.  “Oh yeah.  So how did I ... ?”

She grinned.  “Cave woman style, just like you taught me.  Slung you over my shoulder and carried you up the stairs.”

“You didn’t.”

She smiled brightly.  “There may be pictures.  Perhaps videotape!”

“Oh, brilliant,” he said weakly,  “there’s videotape everywhere.”  He was still feeling too confused to work up any indignation, though.  Then he realized that Buffy was no longer smiling.  She was looking at him oddly, chewing worriedly on her lower lip.  “What’s the matter, love?”

“I believe the phrase is, what’s the verdict?”

“You mean, you don’t know?”

She just shook her head and continued to contemplate him seriously with those big, green eyes.  He looked around the room, filled with Buffy’s things.  Photos of her friends tucked into the mirror, costume jewelry strewn across the dresser.  A vampire in her bed.  He was suddenly acutely aware of her knee, resting casually on his thigh.  He leaned forward, took her face gently in his hands, and kissed her softly.  “I love you, Buffy Summers.”

“I love you too, Spike, whatever your last name is.”  He laughed, but it came out sounding more like a sob, and he pulled her into his arms, burying his head in her hair.  He could feel her hands on his back, soothing him.   “I’m not as shallow as I look,” she said, her voice thick with emotion.

“Oh, baby.  I’ve got so much to tell you, so much to explain.”  He pulled back to look at her.  “Buffy, I ... “   

“Whatever it is,” she said, interrupting him with a finger to his lips.  “Whatever happened, we’re in this together.  Understand?”

He believed her, because he could see the fierce determination in her face.  He saw the underlying fear, too, and that made him love her all the more.  And for some reason, maybe because she looked so completely, adorably serious, he couldn’t resist trying to lighten things up for a moment. 

“In that case, maybe I should let you try to suss it out for yourself a while,” he said.

Her eyes narrowed. 

And then she smiled.  “You know, Anya thought I should be able to tell by the sex,” Buffy said.

“Is that right?”

“Mmm hmm.  Or, we could try a little quiz.  For instance, human beings: a. those we save, or b. tasty snacks?”

He laughed out loud, then pulled her in close again.  “I like Anya’s idea better,” he said.  “Besides, that quiz ain’t really fair, as you are definitely a tasty snack.”  He nibbled at her neck.  “Mmmm, tasty Buffy.”

Her mouth found his.  “You’re pretty tasty yourself.”

“I kept my soul, Buffy.”

He saw relief in her face, and then something else he couldn’t quite read.  “Are you ... are you glad?” she asked.

He wasn’t sure what reaction he expected, but it really wasn’t this.

“What do you mean?”

The eyes looking into his held so much compassion. She reached inside his shirt, her fingers tracing the scars over his heart.  “I know you did it for me, but it’s caused you so much pain.”

He placed his hand over hers.  “Was worth it.  Every time I think I can’t love you more, you go and prove me wrong.  Besides, like I told the sodding judge of that underworld kangaroo court, soul’s mine.  Fought for it.  Earned it.  And no one takes what’s mine without a fight.” 

“Judge?  Court?”

He ran a strand of her hair through his fingers.  “Got so much to tell you, about what happened over there.  And I s’pose we should go talk to the others, fill ‘em in.  Got messages for a few folks, too.”

She pushed him gently back on the bed and straddled his hips.  “I think that can wait just a while, don’t you?  I’d like to check out Anya’s theory, first.”

He grinned.  “Seem to remember us doing a bit of field work in this subject area already, love.”

She place a kiss on the side of his jaw.  “Need more data.”

His hands went around her waist.  “Ah.  Well, then.  We want this to be a valid ...”  Her tongue traveled from his neck to his ear, and he lost all rational thought.  “... something.  Yeah.  More ... data.”

“More ...”

the end.