"Oh, bloody hell!" Spike fell down on the sofa, and promptly went through three floors. He floated his way back up and could hear Angel's laughter the entire time. His grandsire's amusement over his uncorporeal body was going to get on his nerves. He found his footing and glared. "This is not funny."
Angel looked up at him and smirked. "Oh, no?" He leaned back in his chair and grinned. "I think it's hilarious."
"You would." Spike rolled his eyes. "The least you could do is give me cable in this ruddy hole. Things have been changing while I was off in hell. Passions is all fouled up and now I can't watch wrestling! I can't watch Raw without cable, you bloody moron, so give me cable!"
Angel shook his head. He couldn't believe Spike actually watched that mess. Granted, Angel had his run-in with them before. He remebered Ric Flair before he became a legend, but to be so engrossed as to come stomping in every single week... it was just ridiculous. Every Monday, Spike came into his office to tell him just how boring his nights were and that it was completely unfair of Angel to force him to live such a miserable existence.
"You're not supposed to be watching anything. You're supposed to be out there looking for Faith."
"I'm trying! For all I know, she could be right out there in the audience. She's a wild bird, ya know. She would get a kick out of this. Or maybe she's trolling for bad guys. Lots of vampires go to these things, Gel Boy. We could be missing her right now because you won't give me cable. Or find a way to give me a body."
"What the hell does having a body have to do with finding Faith?"
"Because, jackass, then I could go out there and look." Spike gave him a look as though that were obvious. "I could leave this forsaken and very ugly city and actually go off to find her. Fred's a smart bird, but she can't fix this corporeal thing on her own. Give her a team, man! Then I can get a ticket for Raw the farthest place from here!"
"You're not getting cable!"
Angel stood up and faced the window. The city was dark, and somewhere out there, beyond the borders of Los Angeles, he knew there was a Slayer out there who needed to be saved. Whether it was from someone or herself, she needed to be rescued, and Angel was the only person that she had ever allowed to do that.
He had been shocked when Giles first called him to let him know what was going on. The last time he had set waking eyes on her, he had been Angelus and had revelled in the taste of Slayer blood. Now, he regretted ever touching her. He regretted letting the world get so low that they needed to break her out of the security of prison. She was out there somewhere alone, now, and it was because of him. It was up to him to find her.
Angel had also been shocked because Giles had made it perfectly clear that he didn't trust Angel. It was six months after Faith's disappearance that Giles made the call and by then the group at Angel, Inc had moved from the Hyperion to Wolfram & Hart's Los Angeles offices. He didn't believe in making deals with the devil, but when it was obvious that there was nowhere else to turn, he had come to them. And being the nice tormented vampire that he was, he didn't even make him beg. Spike had begged him to, though.
There was no one left to look for Faith but them. Buffy was busy slaying. Xander and Anya were off doing anything that made Xander's life with one eye easier. Dawn had practically begged to be shipped off to boarding school, whining that she needed some kind of normal life for just a little while. Willow was all that was left, and even though she did her best to help, she still had to focus on the Slayer. With all the people working for Wolfram & Hart, Angel Inc only had to personally focus on finding Faith.
"She's out there somewhere..." Angel pulled one hand out of his pocket and tapped the glass. "There's no way that a Slayer just disappears. She's hiding from us because she's scared. She's always been scared."
"She's not scared, ya bloody wank. She's pissed off. She doesn't want any of your damned crusades and Big Bads or whatever else you throw at her. She just wants to be normal."
"Well, she can't be normal. She didn't get asked if she wanted to be Chosen, but she was, and now she has to own up to it. She's the Slayer. Her death calls another, and I'm not ready to have another Slayer called."
"Don't you think she knows what she's doing? She knows how to stay alive, Angel. She'll show up when she's ready and in the meantime, everybody's looking for her. Even the big lawyer type is keeping an ear to the ground. The only thing around here that seems to take even remotely the same amount of precedence is waking up Cordelia. You can do one, mate, but ya can't do both."
"She will wake up!" Angel whirled around. If he breathed, his chest would have been rising quickly with each angry breath. "Cordy's waking up and Faith will be found. And you? You'll still be a pesty ghost that gets on my last damn nerve. I knew I shouldn't have let Dru make you."
Spike's eyes narrowed. "You look for the girl. Take a flight out. I can't do it. I'm going to find somebody in this stupid city that has cable because I missed this week, but I am not missing Raw next week." Spike started to slowly float down through the floor. As he disappeared, he muttered, "Takes too damn much concentration to type on a bloody keyboard."
Left alone in his office, Angel turned to stare out the window. So much had gone wrong the past two years. It was time that something got fixed. They would find a way to bring Cordelia out of her mystical coma. He wouldn't be able to have her the way he wanted, but she would still be alive, and that was better than nothing. And they would find Faith. He wasn't going to leave her out there to fend for herself. He was a champion, after all. The Champion if he believed the prophecy. It was his duty to save the hopeless, and in some ways, they didn't come more hopeless than Faith.