"All right Henry, time for your arraignment," the officer slid open the bars
holding him in. Willow stepped back from the cell as the officer snapped
the handcuffs over Spike's wrists.

"Henry?" Willow asked.

Spike smirked and began yelling at the top of his lungs, "I'm the Henry the
Eighth I am, Henry the Eighth I am I am!"

The officer jostled him. "Quiet down, Henry."

Spike's prisonmates waiting for their arraignments groaned and yelled at
"Henry" to shut up and sit his ass down, or hurry up and get to his arraignment.
Spike laughed haughtily and walked with the officer down the hallway,
whistling his trademark song.

Willow shook her head and hurried into the courthouse.
***

Buffy, Willow, Joyce, Xander, and Cordelia sat in the courthouse, along with
Mrs. Robinson's husband and two sons, and Ms. Hannigan's boyfriend.
Spike was released from the handcuffs and sat down next to his lawyer,
yawning. The judge took her place up above everyone.

"All rise for the Honorable Judge Forde," everyone stood and promptly sat.

"This is the arraignment for one William Jeremy Walthrop on the charge
of the battery and murder of Ms. Allison Hannigan and Mrs. Tiffany
Robinson," said the mystery voice.

Judge Forde looked at Spike, wearing his neon orange jumpsuit. "On
what evidence to we press these charges?"

The picture of the bodies next to the 1959 DeSoto and the knife with
Spike's fingerprints and blood of the victims were shown to Judge Forde.
The woman pursed her lips, "Hmm."

Spike took a deep and breath and sighed. He knew there wasn't enough
evidence to charge him with the murder and be found guilty, but there was
enough there to hold him in custody. The courthouse doors opened, and
in walked Liam followed by Drusilla. Spike's eyes lit up when he saw
Dru and he smiled. She smiled back.

"And you say the fingerprints on this glove matches those of William
Walthrop's?" the judge inquired.

The officer that had placed the evidence in front of her nodded. "Yes,
Your Honor."

"And simply because you found the bodies and the knife near Mr.
Walthrop's automobile you're holding this man in custody?" Judge Forde
raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, Your Honor," the officer nodded.

Judge Forde shook her head. "Who do you have working on your force
these days?"

"Sunnydale's finest," the officer answered.

"I weep for the future," Judge Forde rolled her eyes and banged her gavel
once on the pad on her surface area in front of her. "Does any of the
Robinson family wish to press charges on this young man?" The room was
silent. "Speak now or forever hold your peace."

No one said a word.

She banged her gavel again. "No charges are being pressed upon this
young man. William Walthrop is to be released from police custody
within the hour. Officer judgement overruled, insubstantial evidence."
Judge Forde banged her gavel with an air of finality. "I don't want to
see any of you for a long time." She rose and went into her chambers.

Spike jumped up and ran over to Drusilla, enveloping her a bear hug and
lifting her feet off the ground, spinning her around. Willow had been
about to get up and run over to him, but slowly sank back in her seat,
pouting. Spike kissed Dru, not even realizing Willow was in the same
room. "Hey Dru, missed ya."

"I missed you too, my William," she traced his jaw. "I leave you alone
for a couple of days and you get charged with murder. However did
it happen?"

"Long story, pet. Don't really want to go in it, you know," he released
the tall, dark-haired woman. "What've *you* been up too since we
last saw each other?"

"Not much. I came with Liam," Dru motioned to Liam, who was now
having a nice discussion with Joyce and Buffy.

"Hm. He's my house-mate's boy," Spike chuckled. "Small word, eh?"

"Indeed," Dru nodded.

"Come with me to get the stuff they took from me," Spike told her,
taking her by the hand and taking her out of the courthouse to the
prison they kept him penned up in. "Here for my stuff, mate," he
said to the guard.

The guard rolled his eyes, "One moment, Henry."

"Henry?" Dru wanted to know.

"Six words: 'I'm Henry the Eighth, I am'," Spike grinned.

Drusilla laughed, grasping what he meant. Within moments the
guard had returned with a box of Spike's stuff. "Thanks mate."

"Bye Henry. STAY OUT OF TROUBLE!" the guard called after
him. "I don't want you in here anymore," he grumbled. "You're
annoying beyond annoying."
***

Spike stopped in the restroom and changed back into the clothes
he'd arrived at the police station in. Then he led Drusilla back to
the courthouse, peeked inside to see if anyone was in there, and
turned her back around to go outside and see if Joyce was still
waiting for him.

"Joyce," Spike grinned, walking out with Drusilla trailing him. "I
missed you, Joyce. You cook so much better than the cops in
there."

Joyce laughed and waved it off. "I'm sure anything's better than
prison food, though I've never tasted it myself. Who's your friend?"

"Oh! This is Dru," he smiled proudly. "Knew her back in the day."

"Hello Dru," Joyce replied, offering her hand.

"Dru, this is Joyce, Buffy's mum," Spike filled in the blanks.

Dru smiled and shook Joyce's hand, "Hello Joyce. I've heard
much about you from Liam."

"Well it just seems everyone knows Liam nowadays," Joyce laughed
lightly. "Liam's over there waiting for you. He's talking with Buffy
at the moment, but she'll be over here the minute you get over
there...if that made any sense."

"Perfectly fine," Dru replied, looking to Spike. "You stay out of
trouble, you naughty boy."

Spike rolled his eyes. "If I don't?"

"I'll have to punish you," Dru smirked a smirk to rival and smirk
Spike had ever thrown at anyone.

"Funny, pet!" he called as Buffy migrated towards Joyce's car.

"That arraignment was a disappointment," Buffy called to him.
"You were supposed to stay in jail for...I dunno...life?"

"Thanks for your support, princess," he replied, lowering his
voice as she got nearer. He held the door open for her, but
darted in the backseat before she could enter.

"You're *so* polite too," Buffy told him dryly, getting in and
closing the door behind her.

"Again, thanks," he smirked at her and buckled his seatbelt.
"I dunno know about you birds, but *I* know what I'm gonna
do when I get home--I'm going upstairs and sleeping for
about twenty years."

"Maybe we'll get lucky and you'll go into a coma," Buffy told
him.

"I love you too, Buffy," Spike rolled his eyes.

"Pity. Some people are meant to be loved while others are
meant to...be obnoxious jerks," Buffy stepped on the foot
that was slowly creeping towards hers. It kept moving.
*Damn steel-toed boots.*

He kicked her lightly, almost flirtatiously. She pinched him.

"OW! MOM SPIKE KICKED ME!" Buffy cried. It hadn't hurt
at all, but if Spike wanted to act like a ten-year-old so could
she.

"Spike, don't kick Buffy," Joyce sighed.

"She pinched me, Joyce!" Spike wailed.

"Buffy, don't pinch Spike," Joyce kept her eyes forward on the
road. *We really don't need this...*

The two continued to inflict mock-bodily harm on each other
and wail to Joyce about it, and soon Joyce realized they didn't
really mean it and were just playing around. Her frazzled nerves
calmed some.

Looks like everything was going to be back to normal.

The Breakfast Club