Lost in Translation by Anaunthe
Eventually the sound became unbearable. Someone had been insistently banging on the office door for the past ten minutes. It was long past the time when someone more polite would have simply given it up and walked away. Spike couldn’t imagine who would have the gall to bother him here, in this space that he had taken over as his own. He fervently hoped that it wasn’t the blighter whose name was actually on the faceplate outside the office, and pictures of whose family had, until recently, decorated his desk. Because if it was, Spike knew that he was in danger of ripping the idiot’s head off, and he didn’t want to be responsible for the mess it would make.
Spike knew that he was being somewhat unreasonable, but he was tired, and upset, and still drunk. He’d finally beaten Angel, only to find out what a hollow victory that was. He’d bested his sire when it had mattered most, only to discover that it was all meaningless. A cup of Mountain Dew. He should have known better than to expect anything else. Everything he thought he had, everything he fought for, turned to ash.
In spite of how good it would feel to split someone’s skull, Spike tried to save the imbecile from certain death, “Piss off. I’m sleeping here.”
Homicide would certainly be justifiable. It had been a long few days, preceded by what had felt like an eternity of half-existence. Spike felt that he was entitled to be left alone. He was done playing nice.
After he’d gotten back from beating the crap out of Angel, Fred had insisted on hauling him back up into that lab of hers. Once there she had proceeded jabbing him with needles and putting him through every kind of torturous medical test she had. She claimed she was trying to figure out why he had suddenly become corporeal again, and whether or not that really had anything to do with the other goings on at the office.
Spike snorted, as if it really mattered to universe whether a vampire had a soul or not!
Still, he had put up with it as best he could, because Fred had really been the only one who had been nice to him. But finally he had lost his patience and threatened to destroy the lab if Fred didn’t leave him alone. After that, Spike had returned to the office he had appropriated and continued the drunk of the night before, until he passed out on the floor.
Now he was just incredibly annoyed at whoever was on the other side of the door, and the incessant knocking hadn’t ceased, so he supposed he’d just have to open the door and kill whoever was on the other side in order to get them to shut the fuck up. He hadn’t gotten nearly enough sleep to be able to face Angel’s cronies again, nor had nearly enough booze to ease the ache of missing Buffy. Becoming corporeal again hadn’t solved nearly as many problems as he’d hoped it would. So, he was flesh and blood again, but without Buffy there to steady him, he felt adrift. He felt hollow.
Finally Spike heard voices outside the door, and the rattling of keys. Apparently whoever it was, they were not going to go away. He might as well meet them head on. The least he could do would be to meet them standing.
“S’alright already. I’m coming.” He stumbled to his feet and made his way unsteadily to the door. Perhaps decapitating the ponce standing there would have to wait until he was feeling more up to the challenge.
“So what’s so bloody important that you all couldn’t let me be?” He looked up to see Fred and Gunn.
“You two need the office?” he sneered. It hadn’t escaped him that although Fred was ostensibly dating some other git, there was still some chemistry between these two.
Gunn had the grace to look embarrassed, but Fred just looked apologetic – like she almost always did. “Uh, no.” Gunn stammered out, “the man wants to see you – all of us actually- in the conference room, like about twenty minutes ago.”
“What’s he want me there for?”
“He didn’t say. Maybe he’s found some way for you to make yourself useful around here.” Gunn didn’t pull any punches. Normally, it was a trait Spike liked about the guy.
Spike winced. The last thing he wanted was to work for Angel in any way shape or form.
He wanted to be wherever his sire wasn’t. Preferably with Buffy, but definitely far away from Angel.
Souled or unsouled, it didn’t matter to Spike. Angel was still a bastard.
Stumbling down the hall, Spike maneuvered himself so that he was leaning on Fred. He liked Fred. She had been nice to him. Besides, she smelled good. He was surprised when she leaned over and whispered in his ear, “I’ve told Angel, but I don’t think anyone else knows.”
Suddenly Spike found himself actually needing Fred’s support. He’d forgotten. Oh, he hadn’t really forgotten – impossible to forget really – but he’d forgotten that Fred knew. And that she’d told Angel. He was sure Angel would have figured it out soon enough, anyway, but suddenly Spike was really dreading this meeting.
The conference room was bright – large windows let the sun stream in. Instinctively, Spike balked at entering. Angel’s face leered at him from the sunlit end of the room. “Finally, Spike! Where’ve you been?”
Angel took in Spike’s hesitancy at the doorway and almost smiled, not a nice smile, Spike thought. Didn’t know if the Poofter owned one of those. Spike had certainly never seen it.
With a fake sweet voice, he added condescendingly, “Sun won’t hurt you, Spike. It’s special glass, remember?”
Spike pulled himself up to his full height, sauntered in. “Course I remember,” he bluffed. “Just bleeding bright is all. Hurts my eyes.”
Angel didn’t press the issue, went on talking as the others took their places. “I’ll go back over the highlights of what you missed later, for those of you just arriving. We were talking about the Shanshu, Spike, and the mess the office is in because of it. I asked Wesley to take another look at the prophecy, see if it had anything to say about this situation. Go on, Wesley.”
Spike gave Wes and Angel both a withering glance and went over to the bar and poured himself a triple. He swallowed it in one gulp, and poured himself another. The Watcher was still blathering on about the exact translation of the Shanshu text, and Spike was pointedly not listening to a word of it. Finally there was a moment of silence as the Watcher finally paused to take a breath. Or maybe he had finally finished speaking. Spike didn’t know and didn’t care.
He stared straight at Angel, “What’d the hell you drag me in here for? Thought you were all good now, didn’t go in for torture anymore.” He grabbed up the decanter as he rose to leave the room.
“I wanted your thoughts, Spike. I value your opinion…”
Spike just looked at him, completely unconvinced. “Right. I’m sure that you do Angel.”
Spike noticed Fred looking at him with what might have been pity, and suddenly he’d just had enough. “If that’s all then…”
Wesley was speaking to his slowly retreating back, “Spike, I know you claim that you don’t believe in the prophecy, but even you have to admit that it points to you and Angel rather specifically…”
Finally Spike exploded. It was all just too much. “It bloody hell does NOT!” he shouted. “And furthermore that wanker knows it. I wish I’d killed you when I had the chance.”
Angel’s staff looked like they were ready to defend him, but Angel just looked uncomfortable. “I didn’t tell them Spike. You told Fred you didn’t want to me to. I thought you’d accepted it. If you’d been here when you were supposed to, you would have heard…”
Spike interrupted, “Accepted it! You thought I’d accepted it?” He choked, “Like I had a choice! What am I supposed to do – go hunt down that demon again and tell him I’d like another go?” He raised his voice, and singsonged, “Sorry I was so careless, but that soul you gave me, burnt right out of me by a magic amulet while I was saving the bloody world! So, if you don’t mind, I need another one please?”
There was a long silence around the table. Shocked silence. Spike’s soul was gone?
The chip, they’d heard, was also gone. That meant that Spike was completely unfettered. Free to do anything now. Anything at all. They were all in danger. Gunn reached to buzz for security.
But Fred stopped his hand and spoke up for the first time. “I’m sure that what with Wolfram & Hart’s connections we could arrange something, some way to get your soul back again…” The faces in front of her did not look encouraging, “I mean, if everyone agrees that it’s a good idea…”
“Don’t need any favors from you all,” Spike groused. “Don’t want it back anyway.”
And he didn’t. It hadn’t worked. It had made his life a living hell. But it hadn’t made Buffy love him.
At the same time Gunn and Wesley looked at Fred as if she had sprouted antlers.
“You knew?” Wes queried.
Gunn just shook his head. “That’s why you wanted me to go with you to get Spike, you were afraid of him once you knew he didn’t have a soul anymore.”
Neither vampire spoke, but if looks could kill, then they’d both have been ash. Fred decided she’d answer Wesley’s question, and pretend that she hadn’t heard Gunn’s.
“That’s what all the tests were about. I kept running and re-running them. I wanted to be sure, before I said anything to anyone.”
She looked at Spike then, “But you knew, didn’t you? You knew all along? From the moment you re-materialized here?”
Spike lowered his gaze from Angel’s and looked at Fred, running his hands through his hair. He spoke softly, “Course I knew. Not the type of thing you wouldn’t notice.”
“But you didn’t say anything. And you took off into the desert after the fake Shanshu…”
“Bloke’s got to try, don’t he?” He pursed his lips, shook his head. “I guess this is where I say goodbye then.”
Angel just sat there and said nothing, as Spike turned to leave.
Oddly enough it was the Watcher who spoke, “Spike.” He coughed, “You need to know. It’s about the Shanshu...”
Spike stopped and looked at the man, “What could you possibly have to say that would be of any interest to me now?” Spike snapped.
Surprisingly Wesley didn’t back down, “Well, it’s about the translation. I mean, when I first read it, I just assumed it was talking about Angel. I mean it made so much sense at the time. I mean how many vampires with souls had there ever been? And then suddenly there were two of you, and that just made it more confusing.”
“And now we’re down to one again. What of it?”
“Well, that’s just it you see. The word in the text, well, I assumed it meant ‘soul.’ Because it made sense that it would, all things considered. But the same word could just as easily be translated as ‘conscience’ or ‘heart’ or even,” he coughed again, glanced quickly towards Angel and even more quickly away, “taken very literally, it means ‘he who loves and is…” cough, cough “loved in return.” The Watcher had the grace to blush as he sat down.
“So that means…” Gunn began, but Fred finished for him, “…the prophecy could still be talking about either one of them.”
Angel looked even more ashen than before.
“I guess I’ll stick around for a while after all,” Spike smiled. “Just to see how things work out.”
Author's Chapter Notes:
I had a hard time reconciling the Spike of season 7 BtVS with his actions on Angel. Here's my take on why.