"In my defense," Spike started, standing upright. "It's only been a few months for me, several of which involved me being Wolfram & Hart's little ghost bitch. So you'll have to excuse me for being all go throughable and incapable of picking up a sodding phone." That certainly didn't excuse him for the past few months, however. Not to mention the years that followed, which sort of confused him on an honest note. What had he been doing all this time? Or was he really dead? But then there was this talk of Angel going dark side, which meant that Angel had survived what happened back in L.A. And if stupid Angel had survived, then there was no way in hell that he had died himself. He was better than Angel. And his hair was shinier.
"Look, Buffy, I don't know why I haven't been to see you in the future, all right? I haven't a clue. Maybe I really am dead there or - or, oh, maybe I've been waiting to surprise you, right? Everyone loves a good surpri - no, that doesn't sound like me at all, does it?" He frowned. Spike honestly had no clue. Unless he had gone with the same reasoning that he himself had developed back in Los Angeles. He didn't want Buffy to see him again. A fallen hero, going out in a blaze of glory, only to come back and ruin the epic ending. Had he really stuck with that stupid concept all these years?
"Angel isn't evil either," Spike commented. "Wolfram & Hart was all jacked up to high hell, but he was doing the right thing working with their lot." Was he defending Angel? Ew.