Title: A Renewed Nostalgia for Nail Polish

Author: Night Nymph

Rating: PG 13 for now

Disclaimers: I own nothing here. Hopefully Joss won't mind me playing a bit.

Spoilers: Everything up to "Chosen" on BTVS and everything up until "Home" (season 4 finale) on Angel. Slight spoilers for season 5 Angel, but not really.

Distribution: You want this? Really? Well go ahead and take it, just let me know where it's going.

Dedication: This one is for mr. monkeybottoms. Her brilliant stories inspired me to try my hand at comedy. I apologize to her in advance for what I'll likely do with that inspiration.

Summary: There are many, well planned and inspiring stories about what happens to Spike after his sacrifice at the end of "Chosen". This isn't one of those stories. An answer to my own challenge at All About Spike.

Chapter 1: The Horrors of Yogurt and Virgins

As Spike returned to his senses he noticed two things: one, that he was in the kitchen instead of in his bed in the suites of Wolfram and Hart, and two, that he had a vile, lumpy substance in his mouth. "Uck," he exclaimed, spitting the contents onto the table. He wiped his mouth with his hand, dropping the spoon it held in the process. The utensil landed on the kitchen table with a tinny clank and splattered more of the loathsome substance on the highly lacquered surface. "Bloody hell!" he swore.

To add insult to injury, Angel smirked at him from near the microwave where he was waiting for his blood to heat. "You're cleaning that up," he said, looking like he was trying very hard not to laugh and thereby ruin his appearance of moral superiority.

Spike wanted to smack him. Instead, eyeing the container of fat free yogurt he still held in his right hand, he complained "How could anyone want to eat this stuff?"

"Don't ask me. You're the one eating it," Angel replied as he removed his heated mug.

The smell of warm blood was tantalizing, but the lingering taste of yogurt just made Spike's stomach do flip flops. "It wasn't bloody me. I don't even remember coming down here." Why the hell did Buffy have to like yogurt of all things? Spike thought in disgust.

"Aww what's the matter, Spikey? Not coming to terms with your feminine side?"

Spike let out a soft growl of frustration. He opened his mouth, wanting to say something so badly. You're just jealous because I'm Buffy's true soul mate now. Go on mate, say it. Wipe that smirk right off his face. Crush his spirit, come on. Ah, hell. He sniffed instead and forced a smile. "It's fine. It's just temporary. Willow knows now, and Buffy will be coming here soon to get it back. As soon as they have a break." He nodded. "I mean it's just a small piece of her. Insignificant really. And I don't always black out when it manifests itself. I can handle it until they get here."

"I'm sure you can," Angel said, throwing a dish rag in his direction and indicating the splattered yogurt with a movement of his hand. He looked smug, like he knew some colossal joke Spike didn't. It had been happening a lot recently. Spike hated that.

Angel finished off his blood and rinsed his mug before putting it in the sink. The infuriating smile still on his face, he paused in the doorway on his way out. "By the way, I love the bathrobe."

Spike looked down in horror at the fluffy pink robe that barely covered him mid thigh, further balking at the embroidered flower he discovered on the right breast. He couldn't imagine anything much worse, unless… He so hoped that wasn't a nightgown he felt under the robe.

Angel was still chuckling as he turned. Spike was sure he never saw the yogurt container coming as he watched it hit his grandsire on the side of his head with a satisfying splat. At least he still had good aim.

As a horrified Angel rushed towards the washroom to get the yogurt out of his hair, Spike thought with amusement, If the bad guys ever learned to concentrate on messing up his poofy hair, this town might actually be theirs. Looking again at himself and shaking his head, he rose from the table. He would've liked to stay around and gloat, but his present attire didn't lend itself to the moment. Best to sneak back to his room and change before someone else saw him like this. He sighed as he skulked down the hallway, wondering how it had all come to this.

Two months earlier

Lilah hated this room. White, white, and more white not only equaled boring, somehow, to her, it equaled creepy as well. It made her think of purity and virgins, and well, what was more disturbing than virgins? They weren't a major component in so many evil spells for nothing now, were they? Nope, not many things creepier than that, she reasoned.  Except maybe a nun, her brain supplied, unhelpfully reminding her of her days in parochial school. Shuddering, she sighed and started tapping her pen against her cheek. What was taking so long? She'd set up all the goody-goodies at Wolfram and Hart, made sure Angel was the boss, then given him the necklace meant for a champion. Hint, hint. So now he would use it, save the day, but lose his soul in the "cleansing" process, because hey, saving the world had to cost something, right? Then he would materialize back here as Angelus, and voila, law firm headed by an evil vampire with untold resources at his fangtips. And if he got out of line too much, hell, they could find that pesky soul somewhere, or at least that was all he had to believe anyway. What? She was supposed to tell the truth? She was evil after all.

Energy started humming about the room, making the hairs on the back of her neck and arms stand at attention and the building shake ever so slightly. About time, she thought as she lowered the hand with her pen to the clipboard she held, ready to document the moment for the bosses. Despite the build-up of energy, there was little fanfare that followed: just a flash of light and a naked body falling onto the floor, the figure landing curled-up and facing away from her.

Affecting boredom, Lilah made note of the time and the condition of the arrival as he stirred. Body intact – check. Arms and legs functional - check. Wait a minute. She looked again as the figure groaned and slowly sat up. She noted the lean, muscular physique which in itself wouldn't be a problem were it not for the more than six inches difference in height than she expected and the bleached blond hair.

He, and yes it was definitely a he, turned to face her, his intense blue eyes registering confusion. Then he realized he was naked.

"Bloody hell!" he swore.

Lilah couldn't have agreed more.

*********

Angel sighed as the building shook. Yes, things had been going smoothly for all of what, a day since he'd returned from Sunnydale? He'd been busy behind the scenes, gathering resources quietly just in case Buffy needed his second front. And it had been going well. There had been no signs of armagedon until now when the building was shaking, subtly, but he could feel it nonetheless. Maybe this was it after all. Maybe Evil was finally going to win. He pulled back the curtains, bracing himself for the sight of a coming disaster.

Angel looked down on the street below, his enhanced eyesight allowing him to see a car upside down, several more a tangled wreck, ambulances and fire trucks everywhere, and people milling about in confusion. Nope, nothing unusual there. They really should put up a turn lane at that intersection, he thought. And it didn't explain the building shaking. He guessed he better get the gang together and figure out what was coming.

*********

Okay, Spike thought as he looked around the room, didn't think I'd end up anywhere white. I don't see any angels flitting about with harps though. His gaze stopped on the woman with the clip board staring at him, the confusion that crossed her face likely matching his own. The fleeting thought crossed his mind that maybe someone made a mistake. That would be classic: me getting into heaven on a technicality. He smiled, putting some charm behind it.

The woman sighed. "Well, I can't imagine the bosses will be too happy about this."

She didn't sound like an angel. In fact if he was any judge of character, she seemed a little on the evil side, but not your average run of the mill evil: more of a refined type. In a previous life that seemed forever ago, he might have made a woman like this his queen. Now though, Spike knew better. He had the distinct feeling this woman could be the end of him if he didn't play his cards right. He also noticed something else about her; she was dead. Okay, now he was starting to get worried.

Circling him slowly in her expensive pumps and fitted suit, she looked him over like he was a scientific specimen. "Hmm, not bad, but who the hell are you?"

He didn't move. If she wanted to get a good look at his wrinklies and such, fine with him. He was right proud of his physique. "Who wants to know?" he snarked, before he mentally groaned. He probably shouldn't piss off the dead lady.

She raised her eyebrows at him. "That you don't need to know right now. In fact, let's just say it's better that you don't know. Now who are you and why are you here instead of who we were expecting?"

"Well, who were you expecting? Maybe that'll help."

She sighed again, and plastered on a smile that seemed to say "if you don't answer my questions soon, I'll rip your friggin head off."

Spike was actually impressed, but it wasn't in his nature to just give in. "Aw come on, just give me that one."

"Fine. If it will hurry this along, I'll give you this one. Angelus. We were expecting Angelus."

Angelus, not Angel. It was then that Spike realized something. He was different. William was gone. They'd taken his soul. His demon face came forth as he surged to his feet and closed the gap between them. In the next second he had her by the throat. "What did you wankers do to me? Where's my soul?"

She looked down at his hand clasping her throat as if it were a minor inconvenience. "Please be careful. That's not exactly the sturdiest part of my body right now, and I'm already dead, so threatening to kill me won't do you much good."

"But I'll enjoy tearing you apart," he said.

"Then you can enjoy eternity starving in this empty room."

"Fine." He let her go in momentary defeat. "What do you want?"

The corners of her mouth turned up perfunctorily, the smile all business. "Let's start with who you are."

"I'm Spike, or at least what's left of me."

"Can't exactly blame me for that. I mean, yes, the amulet did use up your soul to destroy the nasty vamps, but it was your choice to wear it, wasn't it? No one forced you."

"No," he admitted.

"Okay then. It was your fault. Believe me. I'm not happy about this either. I was expecting Angelus. How the hell did you get a soul anyway? No one warned us about this."

He lifted his head and put on a cocky expression. "I won it in a game of poker."

She stared at him, and Spike could tell that she was trying hard to suppress amusement. "And I thought Angelus was funny," she remarked, the only acknowledgment she would give him. She crossed her arms, cradling the clipboard against her chest. "Unfortunately the bosses don't have a sense of humor. Start talking or I leave you here."

"Fine. I went to Africa, went through some trials, and won it fair and square."

"You wanted your soul?" Her usually reserved tone actually held surprise.

"That's what I just told you, isn't it?"

She seemed to blanch a little, if that was even possible. "Oh, shit."

"What?" he asked, trying to quash the alarm rising in him.

"We were expecting someone who wouldn't want their soul…"

His forehead furrowed as he tried to figure out why that was important. It took a moment, but finally catching on, he said, "Because then you could use returning it as leverage, am I right?"

"Because without said leverage, both our asses could be toast, and I mean that literally." Her eyes showed that she had no doubt in that assessment.

Spike didn't like the sound of that. He never had been fond of toast.

TBC if anyone wants.

Please send feedback. Any kind. If I get good feedback, yay! I'll continue. If I get bad feedback, yay! I already have one story I'm supposed to be finishing and I shouldn't be starting another one. Either way, I win.

Oh and for my readers of "In His Shadow", I'm working on the next chapter – really. I promise. A recent family thing kept me from writing for some time and my dog ate it. Okay one of those is true.