Vindicator – Retribution
Timeline: Set just after 'Epiphany'.
* * *
"Look, mate. I sung. Now do your job and tell me where the giant pretty boy is staying."
The Host took a second to lick the remnants of his martini from his lips, before smirking. "Easy sweetie. I'm still thinkin' that it's a nice day for a white wedding. You've really got the Billy Idol vibe working for you."
Spike bit hard into his lip, trying to keep his temper under control. He nearly snapped, though, when a member of the Miquot Clan hopped on stage and began crooning to a random Madonna song.
"I've been pretty patient as it is. Now, come on. Get with the info. I've got family to kill."
"Sorry, bro. But like I already explained to your intended, it's my job to set folks on their paths. And trust me when I say: you'll regret it afterwards."
"Oh, that's rich. First I humiliate myself, now you're not gonna tell me what I want to know?" he asked with an exaggerated scoff.
The Host regarded him coolly. "I won't tell you what you want to know, that's not why I'm here. But I will tell you what you need to know."
"Right, go on then," Spike encouraged, his curiosity sparked.
"You need to learn when to let go, honey. When I looked into you, I saw obsession, and I ain't talking fragrances my man. Get out of California, the country even. Cause I don't see any good coming out of you sticking around."
With his trademark, arrogant grin, the vampire took a long drag from his cigarette.
"As it happens, neither do I."
* * *
"Um, hey, are you…are you even going to look at me?"
"Any particular reason I should?"
Angel scratched at his hand and looked around uncomfortably, trying to find an adequate answer to Cordelia's softly – but angrily – spoken question.
"Cause I'm, you know, back?"
"And beyond wishing you weren't do I, you know, care?"
Angel's face fell, the small flicker of hope that had been plastered across it mere moments before completely vanished. Her reluctance to forgive him stung but didn't surprise him. Disheartened, he wandered across the room and slumped in a chair. Uncomfortable silence followed, with Cordelia shuffling through papers and ignoring him, Angel sitting and staring in her direction. Eventually her renowned temper flared, and she threw down the files she'd been sorting to glare at the vampire.
"You know, despite popular opinion, gawking at someone doesn't improve your chances with them. Or make them want to talk to, or have contact of any kind with you."
Angel fidgeted nervously under the seer's powerful icy stare, before stammering an apology.
"Save it, okay? I don't want to hear it. Go. Away," she commanded, silencing him with a raised eyebrow when he tried to speak again.
He slowly trudged off, accepting his dismissal, slouching to the point that he lost a couple of inches from his height. Brooding.
He made his way to Wesley's office, finding his boss flipping through one of the particularly thick volumes.
"Uh, hey. Is there anything I can help with…?"
Wes glanced up for a moment, then went back to scanning the aged pages. "No, no it's quite all right."
"Oh, okay. Well, if you don't need anything, I'll just get going I guess. If you don't need anything," he repeated, indicating the door.
This time Wesley didn't bother looking up, simply flicked his hand. "By all means," he mumbled.
If possible, the vampire's face fell some more. He walked as slow as he could without being too obvious, waiting to see if one of them would call out for him at the last second. To say goodnight, at the very least.
When his only goodbye was silence, he let out a sigh and left. More than dismayed to hear Cordy and Wes start talking just as he closed the door.
* * *
"You wouldn't be Merl by any chance, would you?"
The demon responded in his usual nervous manner. "Well, uh, maybe I don't know. Who's asking?"
"Spike. Fella over there told me you were the one to talk to. Smoke?" he offered, holding one out. Merl accepted, shakily bringing in to his lips. Spike reached over and lit it, ready to play nice to get the information he wanted.
"Yeah, okay. Waddaya wanna know?"
"Well, it's pretty simple really. Looking for a guy - vampire actually - about this tall," he indicated with a hand above his head, "wears a lot of black, scowls a fair bit, goes through about a tub of hair gel every day. Name's Angel. Maybe you've heard of him."
Merl's hand started to shake, fumbling the cigarette. "Yeah, maybe I have. So what?"
"I'm after him, is what. Do us a favor, tell me where he is."
"Oh, hey what makes you think I know? Why would a guy like me know?"
Spike let out a long breath to signal his fast fading patience. "Listen," he began, casually placing an arm over Merl's hunched shoulders, "we don't need to make this difficult now, do we?"
Punctuating the question with a powerful squeeze on the scared demons shoulder, he leaned in close to his ear. "Do we?" he asked more aggressively. Clenching down on the already damaged shoulder even harder until he heard the slow beginnings of a loud crack, he dragged the gasping snitch out of the bar, flinging him to the ground.
"So," he went on in an overly friendly tone, "how 'bout it, mate?"
When he didn't get an answer right away, only the moans of a clearly in pain individual, he picked up the nearest pipe and proceeded to dent it over Merl's arm. The bar fly let out an agonized cry, his eyes scrunching up in pain, then opening wide in horror as he saw the bleached blond preparing to strike again.
"Wait! Wait, easy!" he almost yelled, gesturing frantically for him to stop. Spike did so in mid swing, in full vamp face, waiting through angry golden eyes.
"He's at a hotel. That's all I know. The, uh, I think it's the Hyp…Hyp-something. I can't tell you no more, I swear."
"The Hyp-something? That's the best you can do?" He spoke the last question in a low rumble, snarling at the end. He pulled back the pipe again, eyes glinting savagely, then struck so hard it sent vibrations up his arms.
"The Hyperion!" Merl squealed out. Spike dropped the pipe, satisfied, but didn't leave before hauling the writhing demon level to his intense stare.
"Now, that wasn't so hard, was it?" he asked cheerfully. He pulled the other 'man' close, until they were an inch apart. "You'd do well not to try my patience," he warned, lowering his voice.
With that, he dropped the informant, turned on his heel, and left.