He woke up to only one though, surely a soul shouldn't hurt? Okay, so having it ripped out of you should, not that he'd know, but getting your soul back? Shouldn't that feel all fluffy and bright like?
But no, it felt like fire and ice coursing through his body, every nerve in pain, darkness at the edges of his vision...hmmm maybe it was defective, just his luck to get a screwy soul.
Well at least he wasn't all dark and brooding like some he could mention... bloody poofter, knew he was just attention seeking all that helping the helpless crap.
He stood and brushed the dust from his jeans, plucked his t-shirt off the floor of the cave with a distasteful look on his face...bug guts...bloody marvellous. Can't be wearing that home. Have to be careful riding the bike back to Sunnydale, road rash was a bitch, even for vampires.
Well, Spike thought, that'll be interesting, turning up at the slayers door with no shirt and a brand new soul! Finally he could be the man that Buffy needed, he hoped.
That final thought playing on his mind he headed out of the cave and swung himself onto the dusty bike, it would be a long night, but it would all be worth it once he saw her again.