A/N: At the top, I want to say many thanks to my beta, Hortense, for her timely and self-sacrificing work as a sounding board and proofreader.

Of Innocence and Alibis

Chapter 6 – No Funny Business

Keeping one wary eye on the hit man at his feet, Angel pulled his phone out of his suit coat pocket and dialed.

"Who're you calling, Ange?" Spike asked, tilting his head as he watched the man at their feet breathe shallowly in unconsciousness.

"The police," Angel replied, knowing Spike wouldn't be keen on the idea.

"What for?" he asked angrily, just as Angel had predicted. "Seems like I'm in enough trouble already, doesn't it?"

"You'll be in even more trouble if I don't call right away and the cops get a hold of the security footage," the lawyer told his friend, pointing at a camera near the elevator. "Trust me on this, Will. I know how the system works."

"Aye," Spike replied crossly. "'s why I called you, innit it?"

Angel spoke to the emergency operator briefly, telling her about the attack and that they would need a squad car, but no ambulance, thank you. While they waited for the police to show, Angel untied both of his loafers and used the lacing to tie the hit man's arms behind his back. "Don't need him getting away," he explained, trying to ignore the curious look on Spike's face.

But finally when Angel stood up, the blonde looked just about bursting with the need to say something. "How, pet?" he asked, nudging the man on the ground with his boot. "How did you know how to do this, then? The fighting, I mean. Last I remember you were okay in a bar fight, but nothin' like that."

Angel sighed and watched Spike's face for a moment, trying to decide how much to tell his friend. Finally, he settled on, "After Darla ... there was a long time when I just needed to hit someone. Took up kickboxing so I wouldn't murder my boss."

Spike laughed shortly, his face splitting into a grin, "No shit?"

"Yeah," Angel agreed, keeping his eyes with the blonde and wondering why he couldn't look away. Then, he remembered, "What was with the knife at the guy's throat? I thought for a second you might actually use it."

Spike looked down at the ground, his hands finding his coat pockets and burying themselves there. Speaking softly, he confessed, "I thought I might, too."

Angel looked at his friend for a long time, trying to see the boy who used to be there, underneath this rough man he'd become. He was there, Angel knew it, but recent circumstances had him burying it away. Angel knew it was probably for the best, but he missed who Spike used to be, before he started making deals with the devil for a few thousand dollars and holding knives to people's throats.

"What?" Spike asked him finally, and Angel blinked, suddenly very aware that he'd been staring for far too long.

"Nothing," the lawyer replied, sighing and wondering when the cops would show up.

Two hours later, Angel and Spike were still in the parking garage, leaning against a squad car and waiting for a detective, according to the other cops. At least the hit man had been driven away in a cop car and neither one of them had been. Though one of the first cops on the scene had run Spike's name through her computer and tried to arrest him, Angel pointed out that everything either one of them had done was in self defense and when he proved that in court, they could sue the city for wrongful arrest.

"That was a nice bit of bull you fed that chit," Spike murmured to Angel a few minutes later, so the cop supervising them wouldn't hear.

"It wasn't bull," Angel told the blonde. "I would sue if they tried to arrest you now. We were within our rights to defend ourselves."

Spike scoffed, "Sure thing, mate. Though, you've got a more optimistic view of the system than I do. Probably helps you've never been in the lockup."

"I've spent the night before," Angel confessed. "For public drunkenness during law school."

"Yeah?" Spike asked with a disbelieving smile, one eyebrow quirking up. "Bet they let you go in the morning, though didn't they?"

Angel nodded, knowing that spending a few hours in the precinct sleeping off an ill-advised bender was nothing like what Spike had been through in the past few days. And it couldn't have been those three weeks Spike had to spend in Arizona for assault. Yep, Angel had no clue what Spike had been through, and he was sure he didn't want to know.

"So forgive me, luv," Spike concluded, whispering in Angel's ear in a way that made him shiver and sent goosebumps down one side of his body, "if I don't have the faith you do."

Angel shrugged Spike away and took a deep, calming breath. Turning his head, he caught the blonde's eyes, searching them for a moment before asking, "What happened last night? To get you so spooked?"

"Who says I was?" Spike spat. "Nothin' happened, Ange."

He tried to turn away, but Angel caught his wrist, pulling him closer and hissing, "Bullshit. Something had to have happened. Yesterday this was no big deal, and then this morning everything was about reputations and honor and going to jail for something you didn't fucking do."

Spike yanked his wrist from Angel's grasp, but kept his face just inches away from the lawyer's. "Maybe somethin' did happen," the blonde growled. "Maybe someone did come and 'talk' to me last night at supper. Maybe I got an earful about what could happen to someone like Darla if her brother didn't behave himself. Maybe I had to break the wanker's hand and his nose and knock out three of his teeth to make sure he didn't cement that message with a nastier one. Maybe I don't like the fact that tossers with knives are comin' after me in broad daylight now."

"Fuck," Angel sighed, finally understanding what Spike had been through. Knowing he needed to be the strong one here, Angel squeezed one of his friend's shoulders and said, "We'll make sure Darla's protected. We'll get the proof we need, Will. I'll get everything settled before we tell the cops what we know. Detective Lockley says that as soon as you give her your alibi, she can start looking for other suspects. And once those suspects are caught, then we'll worry about any further repercussions."

"Oh, goody, Liam," Spike muttered ruefully, standing stock-still under Angel's hand. "Just get all our ducks in a row and I'll be all set. Let's hope I make it that far." Then he nodded over Angel's shoulder and the lawyer turned to see Detective Kate Lockley striding directly for them.

"Can't you boys stay outta trouble?" she asked, thanking the supervising patrolman and waving him away.

"Oi," Spike replied, pushing Angel's hand away when the lawyer placed it on his chest to keep him calm, "this wasn't our fault, Detective. That tosser came after us and tried to stab me in the back!"

Turning to Angel, Kate asked, "Is this true, Mr. Angelus?"

"Yes," Angel nodded, trying to keep his expression courtroom-neutral. "We were attacked and had to disarm the assailant. In the scuffle, I knocked him unconscious."

"Uh-huh," she muttered, her sharp eyes fixed on Angel's face, probably looking for any sign of dissembling or weakness that she could pounce on. "And you have no idea who it was that attacked you?"

"Never seen 'im before in my life," Spike insisted. "You?" he asked Angel.

Feeling his skin grow hot under the woman's unrelenting gaze, he said, "To the best of my knowledge I'd never met the assailant until today."

Lockley hummed and finally broke her eyes away from Angel's face, pulling a small notebook from her jacket pocket and clicking her pen. "What about the name? Zachary Salvatore?"

Both men indicated no and Lockley sighed. "I've seen the security tape, which looked like there was more going on than self defense, so I should bring you both in." Angel opened his mouth to protest, but the detective held her hand up at him. "But I'm not going to. Mr. Salvatore has well-established ties to organized crime, so we're going to take a different tack, okay?"

"Anything that keeps my client out of trouble," Angel nodded, ignoring Spike when the blonde punched his arm in protest.

"Right," Lockley replied and Angel could tell she was trying very hard not to smile at Spike's casual violence against him. "I'm placing a squad car on protective detail for you, twenty-four-seven. Wouldn't want you to miss your day in court, now would we, Mr. Stewart?"

Spike muttered, "Fucking hell," and turned away from Angel and the detective, pacing a few steps away. Angel knew Spike wouldn't be pleased with Lockley's plan, since he'd always chafed under any kind of supervision.

"Is that really necessary?" Angel asked Kate softly, giving her a little smile that he hoped would come across as charming.

Instead of being impressed, she laughed and shook her head at him. "It is if I say it is," she insisted. "Until further notice, neither of you goes anywhere without police escort."

"Now that just seems wasteful," Angel pointed out, wondering if maybe there was another reason this woman wanted to know where he was at all times. Or, if she really did suspect Spike of something and was using this as an excuse to keep tabs on him.

Kate shrugged and replied, "It won't be if the threat against you escalates. You never know with these mob guys. They don't normally mess around. If they go after someone, they tend to go for the throat."

Angel sighed and looked over to where Spike was bugging an officer for a light. "You don't know which of us he was after?"

"No I don't," Detective Lockley shook her head with frustration. "And if your client would just tell me who he was with on the night of Riley Finn's murder, I could rule out a number of suspects for this attack."

Angel caught Spike's eye across the garage, hating how tightly his hands were tied in this situation. If only he could tell Kate what he knew, why he knew that Spike was innocent, things would be so much easier. Wouldn't they? In any case, he was going to have a damn difficult time of building any sort of defense without a credible alibi. Sighing in frustration, Angel spoke softly to the detective beside him and told her, "He's had some more threats, while he was in custody, that have made it even more difficult for me to convince him to tell you his alibi."

Kate fixed him with another of her fiery-eyed stares. Angel knew she did it to intimidate, but he found it almost endearing instead. Oh, that was one thing he would not tell her anytime soon. Eventually she asked, "Threats by whom?"

"He didn't say, and I doubt he'd tell you that either," Angel sighed. "But I thought you should know, in any case."

Kate replied by asking, "What reason do I have to trust you, Mr. Angelus? You've got a nasty reputation for getting evil people out of serving their time. How do I know this isn't just some sympathy ploy on your part?"

"Will isn't evil," Angel insisted, ashamed by the fact that she was somewhat right about his list of former clients. "He's just lost. And I'm just trying to do the right thing by a good friend."

Kate nodded as her eyes slid over to watch Spike light up and walk away from the police officers, sniffing brashly and scratching one eyebrow with his thumb. Then, she took a breath as if making a decision and said, "Find me that proof, Mr. Angelus. And steer Mr. Stewart clear of any more trouble."

After a moment where he was sure Lockley would continue, Angel asked, "And what?"

"And in the meantime, I'll circumspectly devote my energies to finding alternative suspects."

Angel smiled a deep, genuine smile at the detective's words, his heart jumping a funny little dance when the policewoman blushed before clearing her throat and saying, "Officer Alvaerez will accompany you up to your apartment so my team can finish here.

"Thank you, Detective," Angel nodded, waving Spike over. He never thought he would have been grateful about being attacked, but as Detective Kate Lockley strode away to join her colleagues, Angel began to feel hopeful. Hopeful that Spike would be okay, hopeful that he wouldn't lose his job over this case, and hopeful that maybe he was ready to really start dating someone again - someone appropriate for him. Like perhaps Detective Kate Lockley once this case was over…

After being escorted up the elevator and to his apartment door, Angel let Officer Alvaerez take a look around to make sure the place was empty. And then it was just him and Spike.

"What now?" the blonde asked, crashing down on Angel's leather couch and sprawling there.

"First things first," Angel said, "I'm making a phone call."

Spike shrugged and grabbed the TV remote, making himself at home while Angel stole away into his bedroom. There, he dialed his cell phone and waited for someone on the other end to pick up.

Eventually a woman answered with laughter and a southern accent in her voice, "Burkle and Gunn Investigations. How can we help you today?"

"Fred, it's me," Angel replied, the woman's tone making him smile a little.

"Oh, hey, Angel!" she cried. "We haven't heard from you in a dog's age! Hey, Charles," Fred called away from the phone, "it's Angel!"

Angel heard the man's deep voice call from the background, "Tell that son of a bitch we're not interested."

"Oh, don't listen to him," the woman chuckled. "He's still a little prickly about that last case."

"Well, I'm sorry. I didn't know it would be such a clusterfuck," Angel replied before sighing. "Does this mean you won't take another case?"

"We'll take a case, Angel, believe you me. It's just..."

"What?"

"I don't think we'll be able to give you a discount, is all," Fred told him, her voice clenching up like she was preparing for a fight. "I know you kept me out of jail and I'll always be grateful, but my partner is just about fed up with you."

"Damn," Angel muttered, knowing how stubborn Charles Gunn could be when he got it into his head that he was right about something. "Well, it's fine. I'll get my client to pay the whole charge."

"Some big-wig in trouble?"

"No, I'm defending a friend. His 'stepmother' is footing the bill, and that woman has way too much money to begin with."

"Alright," Fred giggled. "What do you need us to do?"

"It's moderately illegal," the lawyer warned.

"Ooh," Fred just about squealed in response, "our favorite kind of case! Gimme the skinny, pal."

Angel chuckled and gave the private eye all the details of the information he needed. "And I'll try to get you some extra if you can make this snappy. I'm not sure how long the guy's going to leave that evidence intact."

"Sure thing, Angel!" Fred replied. "We'll get on this right away tonight."

"Thanks, Fred," Angel said in farewell, hanging up before wandering out into the living room, looking for his new houseguest. When he wasn't there, Angel continued his search, worried that the blonde had slipped away somehow, escaping Angel's and the police's watching eyes. It wouldn't be surprising of him to do so, but Angel then found Spike in the guest room, dumping his shopping bags out on the bed. "Hey," Angel announced his presence, giving the blonde an encouraging smile when he looked up.

"Hey, yourself," Spike replied, gaze flitting back to the heap of clothing and toiletries. "Thought I'd try to find something a little more comfortable than this bloody jacket and tie."

"You were the one who insisted on the fancy place with the fancy dress code."

"And it worked, dinnint?" Spike pointed out, flinging his tie down onto the bed, the coat following just afterward. "Impressed the princess and her lapdog. Got you your payday, love."

Angel tilted his head as Spike looked up at him, "You staged all this for me?"

"Yeah, well," Spike dismissed, pushing Angel out the door with one hand flat on his chest, "didn't seem right getting so much help from you without returnin' the favor." Once Angel was out the door, Spike smiled and said, "Order up some pizza or wings or somethin', Ange? Oh, and find some sort of liquor. I'm dying for a drink." Then, he closed the door in Angel's face, presumably so he could change without an audience. The lawyer knew nothing good would come of the feeling, but something deep in the pit of his stomach wanted just a little bit more.

Once the two men had eaten and drank enough of Angel's expensive scotch to become pleasantly tipsy, each of them checked the locks on all the doors and windows, just to be sure. For the first time in his life, Angel regretted not owning some sort of weapon, like a small handgun of sorts or even a baseball bat.

Despite the pleasant effects of the alcohol, Angel had a difficult time trying to sleep, his heart starting to pound in his ears and his stomach turning whenever he thought too directly about the attack he'd survived that day. It was just one guy with one knife, but a professional hit man like him could have easily killed them with it, had Angel not turned around when he did. That small twist of fate was the most difficult thought to put aside.

If things had gone just slightly differently, he would be dead right now. Angel didn't have any family and besides maybe Darla, not many people would be all that upset to see him go. It made him feel lacking, like a failure of a human being that he didn't have any close attachments besides his long-since-exed ex-girlfriend and her brother, who could easily have joined him in dying.

Funny how that state of affairs hadn't bothered him until now.

While Angel dozed for a few minutes between bouts of replaying the day's events over and over in his head, his bedroom door creaked open. Hearing the noise, Angel shot to sitting upright, his heart beating wildly in his throat and his overtired mind wondering if an end-table drawer would make an appropriate weapon.

"Shush, Ange," Spike whispered in the darkness, "it's just me."

"You," Angel asked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and checking the clock to see yes, it was three o 'clock in the morning, "you need something?"

"Can't sleep in there," Spike sighed, his weight dipping the far side of Angel's bed. "There's this clicking noise in the room that's driving me bats, yeah? Thought maybe it'd be okay if I bunked here with you, just for a few hours?"

Clearing the sleep from his throat, Angel found the butterflies in his stomach fluttering for a new reason. Spike wanted to sleep there, next to him. Angel wondered if Spike's motivations could have been for the same reasons, or if he was just jumpy as hell about what had happened over the last two days and wanted the company so he wouldn't feel so scared. Angel knew he would have appreciated Spike's company for that reason alone.

"Sure," he told Spike, pulling his body more fully to one side of the bed and rearranging the sheets to make them more welcoming. To set his mind at ease about the one thought prominent in his mind, Angel qualified his assent by saying, "But no funny business."

Those few words made Spike laugh softly. "Alright, mate," he agreed, sighing as he slipped under the covers. "No funny business."

So, what did you think? Please remember to review.

Also, to the regular readers of my Spangel series, The Vampire/Slayer Archives, I've been missing some regular reviewers during the most recent installment, "Consequence," which is the sequel to "Legacy." I've listed it under the Buffy section of this site because the only not-originally-on-Buffy character left is Fred/Illyria. Though still Spike and Angel centered, the rest of the Vampire/Slayer series will be posted under the Buffy listings. If you don't want to visit that strange and scary land, you can get to "Consequence" easily by visiting my profile page. I hope you enjoy it!

Thanks again, everyone, for reading.