A/N: I think my hit counter is broken again, so I'm posting the next chapter now in order to test it. If you could leave a review at the end, that would ease my mind greatly.


Of Innocence and Alibis

Chapter 2 - Darla

"Ms. Stewart's office," a young man answered Darla's phone, and Angel clenched his fists at the sound. He wondered, unkindly, whether she was sleeping with this one, too. "Who may I say is calling?"

"Tell her it's her brother William's attorney," Angel replied, grinding out the words very carefully and steeling himself for the inevitable sound of her voice, if only this fucking kid would pass the phone over. He'd wanted Spike to make this call, telling him that there were a million other painful things Angel would rather do than call up his ex. But since he was in custody, Spike had very limited call privileges, which left the responsibility up to the lawyer.

"And what may I say this is regarding?"

"Her brother," Angel practically growled in his ear, wondering why the assistant would even ask. Wasn't knowing that his boss' brother had an attorney cause enough to put the call through? "William Stewart."

"Hold a moment, please," the now almost-snide voice on the other end reacted to Angel's gruff manner, just before clicking over to one of those music services. Angel waited, the music a frustrating hurdle before he could talk to Darla and get this fucking phone call over with.

"This is Darla Stewart," a cold voice answered, and Angel knew that it had been mention of Spike needing legal representation that provoked this reaction from her. She'd been on the receiving end of this call even more often than Angel had, and he could tell she was getting sick of it.

"Light jazz, Darla?" Angel asked, in reference to the on-hold music. "Really? Couldn't have sprung for the Classical recording?"

"Liam," the woman replied, her voice now stiff and cold. "Dante mentioned this was regarding Spike?"

"Yeah, I'm not happy about it either, sweetheart," Angel muttered, sighing and scribbling on a pad of paper with a pen, making angry dark lines of ink to match his mood. "But it's pretty serious."

Concern breaking the ice of her voice, Darla asked, "Where is he?"

"In LA," Angel answered, "with me. He's fine, but these charges ... Man-two."

"Shit," Darla whispered. Angel had known that even though Darla refused to give her disinherited brother money to fuel his lifestyle, she still cared about him. Spike was someone who would have a place in her life forever. Not Angel. Not anymore. "What do you need?"

Ah yes. He'd been counting on Darla to cut straight to the point, so Angel replied, "Bail is two mil. I'm trying to get it reduced, but who knows how well that will go."

"Yeah, in your district," Darla agreed, "don't count on it." After a slight pause, she said, "I'm guessing baby brother doesn't want to wait for his trial in the county lockup?"

"No," Angel replied. "Not really. He's a fuck-up, sure," he admitted, expecting Darla's protective scoff and then hearing it, "but he's not cut out for prison."

"Not with that face," Darla agreed. "A chip right off the old Daddy Stewart block, isn't he?"

Stunned, Angel realized that in all the years he'd known the younger man, he never noticed how much Spike looked like his old man. And Spike had inherited the wicked sense of humor and charm from his father as well. No wonder he'd gotten off light on everything before, always earning just a fine or a slap on the wrist any time he got arrested. Well, that and having the best lawyers money and influence could buy. Despite his bad-boy facade, Spike could charm the pants off an Eskimo in the dead of winter. And knowing Spike, he'd probably try to sleep with said Eskimo while he was at it.

The ability had made Mr. Stewart Senior one of the best businessmen in the world, giving rise to the fortune Darla had inherited and that had given Spike all the privileges Angel had to work his ass off for. And, of course, younger Stewart never appreciated it.

"Yeah," Angel finally agreed. "Look, Darla. You know I wouldn't call otherwise, but Spike needs your help here. "

"I'll pay," Darla agreed, almost spitting out the words at Angel's implication that she might not. "I'll pay it, Angel. In fact, I'll come defend him myself."

"Don't do that, Darla," Angel insisted. "He doesn't want you seeing him like this. You shouldn't have to abandon your job over his screw-ups. I'll handle it."

"I don't like it," she shot back. "I don't think he should lean on you like this. He's my family, not yours."

"He could have been," Angel shot back, leaving silent the words, 'if not for what you did.'

The silence lasted far too long, until Darla softly spoke, not daring to let on how much or how little those words made her feel. Angel had never known what the fuck she was feeling, she kept her cards so close to the chest. "Let me hire someone, at least."

"If you want to pay someone, send a check to my firm," Angel demanded, trying his best to stay diplomatic and to avoid pointing out how she always tried to solve her problems by throwing money at them. Such a blow-up would definitely be counterproductive to getting Spike out of prison. "I'm taking this case, and that's final."

Huffing into the phone, Darla kept her peace for a few more silent moments before saying eventually, "I'll work things out with the clerk as quickly as possible. Be ready to take care of him, because I'm not sending anything else."

"Fine," Angel agreed, knowing he probably wouldn't have gotten paid to defend Spike anyway. He never had.

Hanging up the phone, because he really couldn't stand the cold and almost uncaring tone in Darla's voice any more, feeling sick to his stomach with old betrayals and grief, Angel wondered again why he kept doing things like this for Spike. He shouldn't feel so attached to the man, even if they'd been close during the years he and Darla were together.

What Angel remembered best about those years were the summers Mr. Stewart would put them up in his cabin on the Atlantic coast. Usually the three of them and, during later summers, Spike's girlfriend, Drusilla, stayed there alone, just enjoying the weather and the few months away from school. Sometimes the old man would come by, parading his latest trophy girlfriend around the major social events and pretending to care about his offspring.

Angel knew he should have been interning at any of the legal practices in the city, but instead he, Darla, and Spike whiled away the summers on the beach, meeting other young people with similarly privileged parents, and enjoying each other's company. He should have known when Darla took time to herself, she was actually sneaking off for liaisons with those other young men. Men more 'qualified' for her affections than Angel, who had grown up in a comfortable middle-class home, but hadn't had any wealth to fall back on.

Angel realized, after thinking it over for a few years, his relationship with Darla had been, for her, a way to rebel against what her father expected of her. She'd latched on to Angel in law school, a man just poor enough to make it exciting for her. And he'd fallen for her, no questions asked.

But, when he and Spike were left to fend for themselves during Darla's absences, he'd taken the younger man under his wing, so to speak. That first year, Spike was eighteen and Angel twenty three, fresh out of his first year of law school. It just seemed right to keep an eye on Darla's brother, going to parties together, making sure he didn't get too drunk, basically just hanging out, talking about anything and everything.

The next summer, after Spike's first year of college, Angel noticed how much more confident the younger man had gotten, goading Angel into reckless acts of hedonism and youthful risk-taking. They'd gone cliff diving with some other boys, bonded over rebuilding a small-engine motorcycle Spike 'found', and chased girls at a house parties in town, Angel just barely managing to keep from cheating on Darla. If only he'd known then what she'd been doing those nights, Angel wouldn't have stopped himself. It would have been like college all over again, and maybe he could have had something to brag to Spike about, rather than being bragged to at every opportunity.

It was that summer, the summer before Spike started seeing Drusilla, that Angel first saw his friend in a compromising position with another man. Sure, Spike always joked about 'going after blokes', but Angel had never known he was serious until that party in late August. Darla had been with them that night, sneering in distaste at the drinking games and the music and everything else, but loosening up the more alcohol Angel served her.

Eventually she hit that tipping point, where she wanted Angel right then, her dancing growing so obscene that he wanted to take her home before his skin shriveled from blushing. He'd sent Darla after her sweater, stowed in one of the upstairs bedrooms, and had gone to find Spike, to make sure he could fend for himself. And Angel found Darla's brother, lounging in a pool chair, his hands and lap and lips full of a drunken frat boy with a backwards baseball cap.

He almost went to go save Spike, knowing from personal experience how pushy these closeted frat boys could get, but as he got closer, he realized that the blonde was definitely enjoying himself. Thoughts full of getting Darla home and no longer worried for Spike's safety, Angel had left him there. And got bragged to the next morning over brunch.

"Guess what I did last night," Spike had grinned, when Darla got up to fetch more orange juice from the house, leaving her brother and her boyfriend out on the porch by themselves.

"I don't have to guess," Angel replied, looking carefully over the morning paper at his friend. "I saw you making out with someone."

"Yeah?" Spike asked, that grin still plastered on his face as he buttered a piece of toast. "Did you happen to see who it was, mate?"

"I saw a red baseball cap," Angel replied diplomatically, curious but not wanting to appear overly so. Especially since Darla never knew about Angel's history with men. He figured it had been college, and men were easy, simple as that. No need to fill her in, especially given the derisive way she talked about Keith, the gay guy in their law school class. And at this point, Angel had been head-over-heels in love with Darla, intent on getting her to settle down and marry him. The past was the past, and she didn't need to know.

"Bloody hell," Spike swore gleefully, craning to peer down the hallway. "Don't tell Sis, but I fucked Warren Birchman. All soddin' night!"

Ah. Warren Birchman was the son of Mr. Gary Birchman, one of Mr. Stewart's business partners and heir to the throne, so to speak. And though he acted straight – like the frat boy he had been in college, Angel was sure – Angel had seen a flicker of interest in the man's eyes more than once. He wasn't at all surprised that it had been Spike to finally prod him into taking that leap. "Why shouldn't I tell her?" Angel asked, raising his eyebrows in an expression of mock outrage.

Spike threw a strawberry at Angel's head, chuckling when it missed. "I'm all for outing the bastard, Peaches, but Darla's had a thing for him since we were little."

"Really?" Angel asked, suddenly put off his French toast. He never liked hearing about Darla's former interests.

"Didn't matter," Spike shrugged. "At those awful company functions, she'd always be hanging on his arm, laughing at his jokes. Don't worry though," Spike assured him, "that guy has never been into Darla. I heard he went out with some girl named Sissy in college, but she dumped him pretty quick. Think I found out why." Spike leered at Angel, obviously proud of himself, and it took all of Angel's effort to keep a straight face.

"Good for you," he said dryly, hearing Darla come back out to the porch. "Just be careful, okay?"

"I'm not an idiot, Ange," Spike replied, rolling his eyes.

"Oh, sure you are, darling," his sister replied, patting Spike on the head as she passed and smiling at Angel in that way that had never failed to make a smile leap to his lips as well. Especially after the night before, which they made good use of in Spike's absence. At that moment, Angel felt for sure that this was his family, that when he proposed to Darla at the end of the summer, there was no way she would refuse.

And she hadn't. But two summers and no wedding later, they finally broke up, and by that point, Angel found it to be a relief. And for some reason, he'd never thought of breaking off his friendship with her brother, like of all the things she'd taken from him, Spike wouldn't be one of them.

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