Author Notes: I'm not 100 percent sure but I think this qualifies as a crossover.
"That'll be thirty days and a two-thousand dollar fine." Judge Stone banged the gavel hard against the sound block with a satisfying clack. One more lowlife paying his dues to society. "Bring in the next defendant." And with that, Judge Stone stretched behind the bench in an undignified display of barely masculine scrawniness, the yawn he didn't even try to stifle growing large on his face. Such was typical of these late-night court sessions.
"Another long night, sir?" Mac asked as he handed the judge his next case file.
Judge Stone nodded, still yawning wide enough to swallow a city bus. "You know it, Mac. Feels like we've been here all night when really it's only been half an hour. 22 minutes without the commercials. Who've we got next?" he asked, taking the file folder from Mac's dark hands.
"We have an old friend with a new sidekick, sir," said Mac, as the large bailiff marched in the two defendants. It was a familiar face in the court, back yet again. "People versus Eva Martineau and Buffy Summers." Eva was playing kittenishly with the bailiff, while her young apprentice was obviously taken aback by Bull's towering - and goofy - presence.
Judge Stone leaned his elbows on his bench and coyly addressed Eva. "Hello Eva. Good to see you again."
"Hi, your honor," she replied, equally coy. She really was good at this. "Always a real treat whenever I get to see you." Eva winked at him and blew a kiss.
"She always brightens our day, doesn't she, Mac?" Stone said, turning to his clerk. "So, what've we got? I guess I don't have to guess?" Mac nodded. "So, Eva, hooked your claws into one of our finest undercovers? Thought you should have met all of them by now. Maybe that's where your friend here comes in?"
"Only partly, sir," broke in Mr. Fielding, the prosecutor. "The officer miss Summers here attempted to advertise her services to was a uniformed officer on duty." Buffy tore herself away from her morbid fascination with Bull to beam at Judge Stone when she heard her name being called.
"Hi," she waved.
Judge Stone scrutinized the peppy, vacant blonde. "I assume some sort of color blindness is involved?"
"No sir. Officer Smith, who can't be here tonight, was on patrol in his squad car at the time."
"Right... You really are something, miss Summers."
"Thank you," she smiled widely.
"Mac," he asked in a whisper, "any signs of drug use or anything else that explains our Paris Hilton wannabe?"
"Nothing confirmed, but it's in the file," Mac replied in a slightly more discreet tone. "Officers noted that she acted as if she was on drugs but there were no signs of needle marks or damage to the nose. We haven't done any urine or blood testing on her."
The court's appointed defense attorney, Christine, entered into the huddle. "Judge Stone, I believe my client may not be fit to stand trial. She was involved in a motorcycle accident two years ago and I'm pretty sure suffered some head trauma. She doesn't seem all there."
"Like Heather Mills..." Judge Stone mumbled to himself as he read through the hastily compiled record on Buffy Summers, and quickly realized that they needed to be helping her, not persecuting. Young, born in 1981 in Los Angeles. Significant juvenile delinquency reported. Arson. Spent two weeks in a mental asylum at age 15. The attachment from social services lister her father in absentia. Mother deceased. Caring for a younger sister. Dropped out of college. Questioned on several other crimes but no charges laid. Resided in Sunnydale when that city was destroyed by an earthquake. No wonder the poor girl has turned to prostitution. Might explain the brain damaged behavior too. Most people probably would have checked themselves into Bellview by now if this was their lives. He let out a low whistle.
He watched with Christine at the poor girl's stunned behavior as she puttered around the courthouse. Dan was too busy flirting with Eva to pay attention to what was going on, so they discussed what to do without him.
"Obviously we can't just give her a fine and send her back into the wild. She'll be eaten alive. Possibly literally."
"I don't think the cannibal population of New York is high enough to worry about that," Judge Stone rolled his eyes, "but I do think she needs medical attention. At least some way where we can get her off the streets and start helping her out."
Christine snapped her fingers. "We can set her up in a women's shelter. They can keep her safe there and are maybe a bit more qualified to give a psych assessment than we are." Bull the bailiff stood in the corner quietly singing to himself while Dan Fielding followed a lady in too short of a skirt around the room. Judge Stone readjusted his dickey and had to concede her that point...