Author: Hieiko
Author's Notes: This story is set Post - AtS: Destiny. It's just a funny little idea that popped into my head some time ago. It's silly in a weird kind of way.
Disclaimers: I don't own Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Angel the Series, or any of the characters in these shows. I only write about them.
Distribution: If you want this, go ahead. Just email me and tell me where it's at. Thanks.
Pairings: None
Feedback: Would love that, pet.
Summary: Spike saves Angel from losing his soul. The blond vampire becomes soulless himself, but only for a minute.
Soulless in a Blink
It was pretty much an ordinary day for the Angel Investigations team. Except that they weren't exactly the Angel Investigations team anymore; now they were more like the head team of Wolfram and Hart, Los Angeles branch.
Angel was taking on the leader and one other of the Fricktmer demons. Spike was fighting three of the lackeys at once. Gunn and Wesley were fighting two each, and Fred was doing alright with one.
It happened too fast.
One moment, Angel was pinned to the wall by the human-looking Chief of the Fricktmer demons that was brandishing a wicked-looking dagger.
The next, he was on the floor. And the Chief Fricktmer demon became busy fending off Spike's attack.
Seconds later, Spike was on the ground as well. He screamed, and an ethereal light glowed in his eyes before it seemed to go out of him and dissipate into the dagger held by the Chief Fricktmer.
The Chief Fricktmer looked like he was about to laugh in victory. That is, until he realized that he was the only Fricktmer demon left standing. Or left alive, for that matter.
Spike groaned, and everyone's eyes turned to him. He stood shakily, leaning against a nearby wall to steady himself. He felt all their gazes, and lifted his head to glower at them.
They all looked back at him warily, and kept at a distance. Only Angel dared to go near him, but the poof appeared ready to pounce if Spike so much as made a move against anyone. There was definite warning in his grandsire's eyes.
Spike straightened and smirked, before giving Angel the two-fingered salute.
The Chief Fricktmer interrupted what promised to be another interesting bout of bickering between the two vampires. He addressed Spike. "You are William the Bloody, are you not? One of the most dangerous vampires of the line of Aurelius, and second only..."
"To me," Angel said.
"Oi! I'm second to nobody, you ponce. Care to get your ass kicked again?" Spike growled at the older vampire.
"You just got lucky, William. Besides, you looked as trashed as I did after that fight," Angel retorted.
"Are you not interested in what I have to offer, William the Bloody?" the Chief Fricktmer once more cut in the verbal jabs between grandchilde and grandsire.
"It's Spike now. And what are you talking about, anyway?" Spike finally turned his attention to the Chief.
"It is through my help that you have lost that soul cursed upon you. It is only fitting that you return the favor, and in so doing I can promise you a great many things," the Chief said.
"Your help? Soul cursed upon me?" Spike repeated, incredulous. "You're a complete git if you think I'm gonna do you any favors! What's to stop me from just killing you right now?"
"Because if you go against me, I shall return your soul," the Chief responded grimly.
Spike had to bite his tongue to keep from bursting into laughter. He faked an angry scowl. It was so false that he couldn't help but wonder why the others (except for Angel, of course) thought it was genuine.
"Is that right?" Spike demanded. "This some sort of ultimatum, then? Either I do as you say or get my soul back? And just how exactly do you plan on restoring my soul anyway?"
Angel and the others anxiously waited for the reply, unsure of what to do next.
The Chief gave a cold smile. "Your soul is contained in this dagger. One stab through the gut and your curse will be upon you once more."
Spike grimaced. Ow. That would hurt.
Everyone else took Spike's reaction to mean he was totally averse to the idea of getting his soul restored. There was something in the back of Angel's mind, however, that told him something wasn't right with this picture. So, the still ensouled vampire prevented the rest of his team from making any moves.
"Yeah? What makes you think you'd get that far?" Spike answered cockily. "I could kill you before you so much as nicked me with that thing. I mean, a little cut won't exactly bring my soul back, will it?"
"Are you willing to take that risk, vampire?" responded the Chief Fricktmer, in just as confident a tone.
Spike tilted his head slightly as if to ponder the question, and then grinned.
"Well, yeah," the blond vampire said gleefully, before lunging at the Chief.
A punch there, a kick here, a twist, a few more blows, then... Spike snapped the Chief's neck.
"That was... anti-climactic." Spike frowned, looking down at the Fricktmer's corpse. "You'd think he'd at least put up more of a fight. Wanker."
He saw the others still looking at him with wary and suspicious expressions. Clasped in his left hand was the dagger that supposedly held his soul. His soul. Spike looked at it half in awe and half in distrust. How could such a thing not only take away his soul, contain it, but also restore it? He tilted it this way and that, watching as the moonlight bounced off the blade. For just a second he forgot where he was, getting entranced by the dagger.
The others looked to Angel, but the dark-haired vampire was staring at Spike with a strange expression. Wesley took a step towards Spike.
Spike looked up, and blinked. He ran the blade against his palm enough to bleed, and braced himself.
They all froze.
Nothing happened.
Spike rolled his eyes and groaned in frustration. "Oh, bugger this!" he said, and used the dagger to pierce his side. He clenched his jaw at the physical pain, then his eyes glowed and he held back a scream when he felt his soul enter his body again. He dropped to his knees and pulled out the dagger, then threw it away from him while muttering obscenities.
Wesley picked up the bloody dagger.
Spike stood up and looked at his gaping wound.
"Bloody hell. Should've taken off my T-shirt first."
~finis~