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Author's Chapter Notes:
Thanks for all the awesome reviews for the last chapter. I'm really glad you all seem to like where this story's going. I also want to remind readers that this will be a long story, and will develop over time. Not all information will be given at once, so please be patient, kay? I promise it will be worth it! :D
Chapter 3: Up Close and Impersonal

Court went reasonably well. It was an informal session, and neither Drusilla or her lawyer were present for the hearing itself. Wesley didn’t have to do much, just sit and wait for the judge to set bail, and then post it when necessary. The judge set the court date for three months from now, giving them enough time to gather their defense. No doubt they had a lot of work ahead of them, and Spike dreaded it with everything he had.

He was let go after that, changing his clothes quickly in the back, and then getting out the building as fast as he could. Wesley was waiting for him outside, and gave him a ride back home. Fred was going to pick up his car from the school parking lot on her way to bring Dawn home. Spike had been ordered to stay off of campus until further notice.

He still didn’t understand how any of this could have happened. What would possess someone to make up such a terrible lie? Especially one that could lead to Spike spending a good portion of his life in prison. Lies like this ruined reputations. Whether they were true or not, people would always look at you differently after everything was said and done. Spike was almost sure that no matter the outcome of the trial, he would never be allowed to teach at Sunnydale again.

Throwing his keys in the near vicinity of the end table, Spike treaded up the stairs jadedly, feeling completely drained. He didn’t sleep for more than two hours in his hard excuse for a bed last night, his mind too occupied on trying to prove his innocence, and how he was going to explain where he had been to Dawn when he saw her next.

Dawn was the little spitfire who had bright eyes so blue they rivaled her father’s and a temper that equally matched his also. Her long brown hair and pale skin guaranteed that she was one of the most beautiful little girls in her kindergarten class. She had just turned six a few weeks ago, and had Spike wrapped around her little finger, a fact she played to the ‘T’ when asking for birthday presents. Spike showed her no limits in what she deserved, showering her with gifts and surprises whenever he saw fit. Fred always said that he was trying to make up for their absentee parents by making sure that Dawn had the very best of everything.

That was probably true.

But Spike was always sure to be there for her too, knowing that material objects could never make up for the love and affection that a parent was supposed to bestow upon a child. He had never missed any birthday, holiday, school play, or any other event that had occurred in all six years of his daughter’s life, and was confident that he never would.

At least, he was until yesterday afternoon.

Now he was worried that he might miss every birthday, holiday, and school play that occurred from here on out. He could do serious jail time for a crime of this magnitude, and little Dawnie would be forced to grow up without a father as well as a mother.

Slipping out of the same clothes he had worn to work yesterday, Spike sighed with relief as the hot jets of water massaged his skin, letting the frustration bleed from his pours and flow with the water down the drain.

When the hell did life get so complicated?

~*~*~*~

He tried to fix himself something to eat, but almost threw up when he bit into it. The nerves in his stomach were making him feel even more queasy, and Spike wasn’t sure he could consumes any kind of nourishment until they settled.

Checking his watch, he sighed when he realized that Fred would not be arriving with Dawn for another two and a half hours. That meant he had nothing to do but worry about his future constantly for all of that time. He ran a hand through his still damp hair and got up to throw the uneaten piece of microwavable pizza in the trash. Standing at the sink for a moment, he contemplated hurling the ceramic plate at the wall, wondering if it might quell his anger, but decided against it when he thought of the mess he’d have to clean up if he did. Setting it softly into the sink, listening to clink it made when connecting with the hard metal, and feeling like he wanted to cry- something he hadn’t done since his parents’ divorce.

The sudden sound of the doorbell ringing loudly throughout the house, shook him out of his depressing thoughts, and he was glad for the distraction. Walking slowly to the door, he glanced around his empty living room, frowning softly. The house just wasn’t the same without Dawnie there to make noise. Spike thought that it was just too quite without her there.

Opening the door, he was surprised to find the pretty blonde from yesterday waiting on his porch with her briefcase and another arm full of papers. She was looking at her shoes when her first opened the door, but quickly looked up when she realized he was staring at her questioningly.

“H-hi.” She smiled politely, shifting her weight nervously. “Wesley called me and asked me to stop by. He seems to think that it would be in the best interest to start on your case as soon as possible.”

“And you are?”

She gave him sheepish expression. “Oh, sorry. I’m Buffy. Buffy Summers. I’m a paralegal at Wesley’s firm. He usually assigns me to his tougher cases.”

Spike frowned at that.

“And that was me showing you how much I love to put my foot in my mouth.” She looked down, biting her lip. “I’m sorry. That was stupid of me. You’re case isn’t tough. It’s really rather looking up actually. Everything seems to be in ship-shape.”

“That was a very nice attempt at making me feel better, pet.” Spike told her offhandedly, leaning against the door frame.

“Did it work?”

“Lil’ bit.”

“Good.” She laughed, wiping her brow dramatically with the hand that held her stack of papers.

Spike smiled kindly, feeling himself warm up this girl. She really was a quite a pretty little thing now that he had a closer look. Sparkling hazel eyes that glittered in the bright sunlight from above, long hair the color of honey that was again pulled away from her face, revealing full cheeks that were tinted with a fair shade of pink, full lips that looked soft to the touch, and a cut little upturned nose. She was short, slender, but with womanly curves in all the right places, that appeared to have seen a great deal of sunlight in their time.

It took him a moment to realize that they were still staring at each other intently before Spike opened his mouth to invite her inside.

“Thank you.” She said as she walked inside, looking around for the first time. “You have a very beautiful home, Mr. Pratt.”

Spike smiled at her after closing the door. “Thank you. And please call me Spike. Mr. Pratt is my father.”

She gave him a quizzical look. “Spike?”

“A nick-name.”

“I really don’t think I sure call you by a name like Spike, Mr. Pratt.” She told him politely, impersonally.

“Then call me William.”

“I can do that.” She nodded.

They both took their seats in the living room, Spike leaning back into the soft cushions of his couch, while Buffy choose to put space between them, and sat down in the chair opposite him.

“So, you’re Wes’s assistant, then? Why isn’t he here gettin’ all the info?” Spike asked, dark brow rising in question.

Buffy looked up from where she was sorting through her paper work. “He handles most of the formalities in court. My job is to gather all the information necessary for him to put together a strong defense.”

“So you get snubbed with all the dirty work, eh, luv?” He smirked.

“You could say that.” She was keeping him at a distance. He could tell. And it was bothering him immensely.

“You two are close friends, right?” She asked suddenly, and Spike was sure that she sounded nervous.

“You could say that.”

She looked up sharply at his obvious jab. She held an unreadable expression, as she gazed at him inquisitively for a moment, as though she was trying to find something in him that he wasn’t sure he wanted her finding.

“Listen, pet. I know it’s your job to just get the info needed to win the case, and then to back off. But if I’m gonna be sharin’ my life’s story with you in a minute, I’d prefer it if you didn’t act like I were some soddin’ insect being dissected for your education, okay?”

“Mr. Pratt-”

“And soddin’ hell, would you please stop callin’ me Mr. Pratt!” Spike exclaimed, frustrated by her attempt to keep this entire conversation aloof. “I’m a person, Ms. Summers. And I want to be treated as one. I don’t need some daftly over-educated cow, who thinks that everybody accused of a crime is immediately guilty until proven innocent.”

“Cow?!” She roared, rising to her feet. “Mr. Pratt, I am here doing you a favor! In case you haven’t noticed, everybody who knows about this charge thinks you guilty. It’s my job to prove otherwise, and I would appreciate it if you would let me do that job!”

“Your job?” Spike stood up then, angrier further by her words. “Your bloody job!? Do you have any soddin’ idea what it feels like to have somebody accuse you of something like this? Something you didn’t bloody do?! I have dedicated half my life to teaching teenagers everything I know, because I thought it would mean something- make some kind of impact on the world. It’s my bloody life, Ms. Summers, and I actually happen to enjoy it. I was bloody proud to get up every morning to go to class and pass on the gift of knowledge to those kids each and every day. Do you know what it’s like to have one of them accuse me of taking something like this from them? Accusing me of forcing-”

His voice caught in his throat then, and the tears that he had been fighting pushed themselves forward, gathering in his eyes, where he refused to let them spill over. He looked away from her then, not wanting her to see him fall apart. If she wanted to keep it impersonal, then he would do the same.

Buffy, for her part, had the decency to look shameful, and gave him an apologetic look. She watched on as the distraught man before her tried to reign his emotions under control. “William-”

“Don’t!” He told her, holding up his hand. “You have no bloody idea what it’s like to feel like this. Yes, it’s your job to keep everything between us professional-I understand that. It’s pro’lly the first bloody thing they teach you in law 101. But I am not your job! I am a person, and in case you haven’t noticed Ms. Summers, my life could be ripped to shreds in a few short months! I could lose everything!

“And I don’t really give a shit what you think of me. Lord knows what the bloody town’ll think and say, but-You can think me guilty if you want to, but I will not be treated like some bleedin’ obstacle you have to get past to get a soddin’ pay check!”

They were both out of breath by the time he finished, even though only one had spoken. They stood there in silence, staring at each other intently, as if tryin to gauge the other’s next move.

Finally, Buffy was the first one to look away, letting her blonde head fall to the side. Spike watched as she took a couple of deep breathes before looking back up to him. He was surprised to find eyes were a little glassy, frowning when she appeared to be trembling before him. Guilt began to wash over him.

You didn’t have to be so bloody mean to her, mate! She’s only tryin’ to help you, and you go and make her cry!

“Mr. Pr-William.” She started, correcting herself before he had a chance to. “I know this must be very hard on you right now, and that it must hurt deeply. These accusations that have been made against you are horrible, and anyone who could do such a thing must not have a soul. But they are just that, William. Accusations. Lies.”

Spike waited patiently, as she stopped to breathed deeply.

“And lies always have some kind of inconsistencies. Somewhere there’s something that doesn’t make sense, and we will find it. Make no mistake about it, I am fully committed to this case, and will give everything I have to make sure you don’t take the fall for something you didn’t do. You are not just a job to me. I may be some ‘daftly over-educated cow’-as you put it-but I have the one thing that is going to win this case.”

“And what’s that, pet?” Spike questioned, eyebrow raised in curiosity.

“I believe that you’re innocent.”



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