Dear Angel
Dear Angel,
Guess I’m the last person you’d expect to hear from. Had a few things I wanted to share.
I got a soul. Pick that paper up, you wanker, and keep reading. That’s right, a soul. And it doesn’t come with any nasty little clauses.
I’ve been spending some time making amends, or trying to. I understand some things about you I never did. All that brooding. Not that I’m brooding, mind, but I understand it.
The last time I saw you, I did some pretty vicious things. Well, I was a vicious man, in many ways. Not so vicious as you, of course, but I had my moments. I know you never told Buffy about it - if you did I wouldn’t be around to write this letter. I always considered it payback; the whole time I tortured you, I could hear the sound of you and Dru in my room. I couldn’t walk - I wasn’t deaf. Let’s make a deal; you don’t tell the Slayer about what I did for the ring, and I don’t tell her all the details you lovingly shared about that Calendar woman. Or what you told us about Buffy, for that matter.
Ah, but you say, that was Angelus, not you. That was the vampire without a soul. I know better than that. The soul helps, yeah, but I’m not a different person. You were. I think you might seriously consider professional help.
You always considered your soul a curse. Funny, mine’s a blessing.
All the best (Ha! Must be the soul talking),
Spike