Later that night when Buffy was home with no one but her son and was left alone with her thoughts, she thought back on the evening. There was no wining and dining – but Doyle also knew that was not necessarily her speed. Though, she had to admit, it would have been nice. Is Spike the wine and dine type? As quick as the thought came was as quickly as she dismissed the thought. This was not about Spike.
All in all, she’d had fun and was comforted by the fact that Doyle felt that no matter what, he was adamant about keeping her in his life, even if it wasn’t as “girlfriend”. That took the pressure off in ways he couldn’t imagine. Relationships – real ones – were not her forte. He’d given her the green light to relax and just be her. He’d also made it clear that he was not going to push for anything – and in a world where ‘anything’ was a given, it was refreshing to know that they could go at her pace and that “putting out” wouldn’t be an issue.
Ah, sex. She missed sex. The touching, the connectedness to another, the physical intimacy, the getting off…she missed it. She wanted it, but. . .
But not with Doyle, the persistent voice in her head nagged – Buffy supposed that was her conscious. Or the devil on her shoulder, either one worked really. You want --
“Shut up,” she said aloud and shook her head at herself.
So, if it’d been Spike you were out with, would you have “put out”?
“I’d like to think no,” she muttered. “So many levels of wrong with that, the least of which not being the fact that he’s still married!”
Then what’s missing?
“Who said anything is missing?”
She didn’t need her conscious to tell her that something was missing.
“Okay, okay. So there were no big sparks…though I did flirt with him! So there was a moment...But was it a real moment or just a contrived moment born out of relief that I didn’t have to feel the pressure. Was it a….a grateful moment?”
Only you know the answer to that one.
“Oh, shut up. Just stop, Buffy, stop. One night does not, like Doyle said, have to mean everything!”
Funny, cause when it was Spike, it did mean everything. And how life-changing was that one night with him anyway?
“I hate my life,” Buffy muttered and flicked on the TV to drown out her thoughts.
Spike didn’t think he’d be getting two lawyers, but two lawyers he got: Lindsey McDonald, Esquire, and Liam “Angel” O’ Connor, Esquire.
“Angel?” Spike questioned, feeling like a small fry at the end of a long desk. He felt small and inconsequential. He figured that was perhaps the whole point. Wasn’t it all just one big mind game with those attorney types?
Angel, a tall, dark haired fellow with piercing brown eyes that Spike felt could see right through him – and boy did he hope whatever this “Angel” saw was up to snuff – grinned at him “It’s a nickname a client gave me when I got her out of a contract that was seemingly impossible to get out of.”
Hope flared in Spike. “Oh?”
Angel nodded, and Spike couldn’t be sure, but he swore Lindsey rolled his eyes, which caught Spike off guard and his gaze settled on the shorter man with the gray eyes that held wisdom and something a bit shifty in them. He wasn’t sure if that was good or bad.
“You’ve come to the right place,” Lindsey told him, as if he could read Spike’s thoughts.
“Have I?” Spike wondered, not wanting to be rude, but feeling wary at this point. Nothing was for certain it seemed and being used to hitting dead ends; he was loath to get his hopes up.
“Most definitely, Mr. Giles. You see, we earn to gain something from this case as well,” Lindsey explained.
“And that is?”
“Well, aside from helping an old friend out who had in turned helped us so long ago, we get the irrefutable pleasure of sticking it to Morgan Adams,” Angel explained.
Spike’s brows flew up. “Excuse me?”
“You know how the Kennedy’s are notorious for flubbing up every chance they get—yet are respected in this community and by some, looked up to and defended as being ‘misunderstood’?” Lindsey explained.
“Yes,” Spike said slowly, wondering where the hell this was going.
“Well, you see, the Adams’ are not the Kennedy’s. They exalt themselves as the pillars of community; they are seen as virtuous do-gooders, when really, they are anything but,” Angel continued. “We’ve sort of made a name for ourselves in the community. The ‘underground’ community as the case may be.”
“What exactly do you mean?” Spike asked, narrowing his eyes.
Lindsey smiled. “We’re the ones people come to when they have a dispute or a ‘contract’ they need to get out of with the Adams’. We like to think that we specialize in ‘sticking it to’ the Adams’.”
“How is I’ve never heard of you then?” Spike asked.
“I suppose that’s because Morgan wouldn’t want to give us the business. He prefers that we just go away,” Lindsey told Spike. “We can get you out of this marriage, Mr. Giles. And it’ll be clean too.”
“Right,” Angel continued. “No double-dealing, no dirtiness involved – I can’t say the same for Morgan and your soon – to – be ex-wife, but I can say that from our end, we will make it our mission to give you a clean break from the Adams’ with no messes to clean up after.”
“There are people I wish to protect in all this,” Spike went on. “I haven’t exactly been a complete, uh, ‘angel’ say we say in this?”
“How do you mean?” Angel asked, looking grim.
“I’ve had affairs and Cecily knows of them.”
Angel and Lindsey simultaneously sat back, regarding him thoughtfully.
“She have proof?” Lindsey asked.
“You mean like pictures?”
Lindsey nodded.
“I don’t know. I have reason to believe she’s had me followed.”
Angel laughed and the sound was anything but comforting. “Of course she did. You’re one of her possessions. And I’ll bet anything it was the old man’s idea, not hers.”
“Well,” Spike mused, “She’s not an innocent, either. She’s got a devious side to her.”
“Does she now?” Lindsey asked, leaning forward.
“Well, she has threatened ---as has Mr. Adams-- that bad things would happen to me if I left.”
They both nodded and Spike almost wanted to chuckle at the synchronicity of it. “It’d be worthwhile to note that a threat was involved,” Lindsey said to Angel.
“Yes, but will it hold? Most know that Morgan pulls puppet strings,” Angel replied.
“But by societal standards, it would be uncouth to actually talk about it. It’s one thing to know about something, another to talk about it.”
“Good point.”
Spike cleared his throat. “One more thing.”
“Yes?” Angel asked, sounding a wee bit annoyed.
Spike took a deep breath. “A woman I . . .” he cleared his throat. “A woman I bore a child with. I don’t want that to get out. I don’t want them to be known.”
Angel and Lindsey exchanged glances, and then Angel turned to him. “You have an illegitimate child? Does Miss Adams know of this?”
“She does not.”
“Then I suggest you keep it so that she doesn’t find out. We can’t say for certain that Morgan will keep them out if he gets wind of it. It’d be a might bit hard when you drag in a woman and an illegitimate child that I’m gathering you still see?”
“Yes. The mother and I are not uh, together, but I do see her to see my son,” Spike explained.
“And we can always go for defamation of character if he tries to slander her and the child. The public wouldn’t take kindly to a child being slandered.” Lindsey jumped in to Angel.
“They might not mind if they’re in favor of the Adams’ though,” Angel countered.
Lindsey turned back to Spike. “Keep her and your son under wraps for as long as possible until we have more leverage here, Mr. Giles.”
“What kind of leverage are you planning on getting?” Spike inquired curiously.
Lindsey grinned. “Well, if she has pictures, we get pictures. With as shady as that family can be, there are definite venues to explore, trust me on that.”
Angel slapped his hands together conspiratorially. “So, do we have the case?”