The Symphony Hall
Pre-Bebop, pre-Julia. Twenty-year-olds Spike and Vicious are low-time gang members for a group called the Red Dragons, but when an opportunity makes itself clear, their lives are changed. Rated R for cussing and adult situations.
A/N: Sorry it's taken me SO LONG to put out this chapter! RL has just been all-omnipotent... But here it is! And everything's been planned out— and the story won't just be Spike/Vicious-centric. =3 Stay tuned!
Radishface
8
Spike was not completely intoxicated, Vicious realized, just a little tipsy. But Spike had held onto him this whole time, the other man's calloused fingers gripping onto Vicious' coat as they walked to the car.
When they arrived back at Spike's apartment, the other man was asleep, an eerie look of discontent over his features, eyebrows knit in a frown, and Vicious didn't want to wake him up. Would it be so difficult, he thought, if he just drove to the airport, bought tickets, and left?
Spike's face was inclined towards him, and Vicious thought, would it be so difficult?
His cell phone rang, jolting him out of his reverie. He dug it out of his pocket and looked at the caller ID-- Wolfe.
"What?" He snapped.
"I was just wondering--" A familiar voice drawled, "-- if you had brought him home?"
"Spike's here with me." Vicious said. "But from what I heard, you were the one who was supposed to pick him up."
"I predicted your actions." Wolfe said, and Vicious could just see the man smirking on the other end. "I knew that you'd take care of him."
"So what if I hadn't?" Vicious retorted. "What if I had just left him there?"
"You wouldn't." Wolfe said, and Vicious seethed. "It's late."
"What the hell is that supposed to mean--"
"I would conduct business--" Wolfe paused. "--if I were you. Goodnight."
He had put Spike to bed, taking off the other man's jacket, then the shoes, and had left it at that. Spike had murmured a sleepy thank you and had rolled over on his side, facing away from Vicious. Moonlight streamed in through the blinds, and Vicious wondered at how the room could look so much more different without a girl curled up around Spike.
Annie's shop was still open at midnight, or maybe she was just cleaning-- Vicious couldn't care less. He walked in, ignored the burglar alarm, and watched as Annie's plump form jumped three feet in the air, watched her flail to turn the alarm off. Upon noticing it was Vicious, she gave a scowl and returned to her work.
"What are you doing, Annie?" He said.
"Sorting things." She replied. "It's none of your business. And don't barge in here like that."
"I need ammunition."
"I already gave you some last week."
"That was last week, Annie."
"There hasn't even been any sort of activity in the area." She narrowed her eyes at him, then smirked. "Unless the ammo is for the new kid."
Vicious smiled as well, showed her a little teeth. "He's not that new, you know."
"Somebody always has to be the new kid." Annie said, and slammed a box of ammunition onto the counter. "How much does that trigger-happy kid need?" She shook her head. "Nice kid like that, always hanging around people like you. Makes me wonder--"
"Annie." He said quietly, dangerously. "You're not so far removed from all of this either."
"Take what you want." She said. "And then get out."
Annie's store was owned by Wolfe, who had been a loan shark before he became the boss of the Red Dragons. She did this for them because it was her obligation, and Wolfe held her contract. It was dangerous, being their weapons supplier, and Annie had no choice but to do it. She was not married, she did not have children, and it wouldn't have mattered to Wolfe, either way.
"You hang around that kid too much." Annie said, and Vicious looked up at her, a bitter smile on her face. "Why don't you let him go? Wolfe is small fry. Just let him--"
He wouldn't threaten her, and she knew that he wouldn't threaten her, that he wouldn't tell Wolfe about their dissatisfied weapons distributor who wanted a life of her own. But this was his life, and he had inadvertently chosen it, he was a Red Dragon.
Spike had chosen it too, had gotten himself into this mess on his own will, and that made him no more deserving of freedom than any other syndicate member.
But that doesn't mean--
"Annie." He said, his tone final. "Goodnight."
Perhaps this was the only time he'd ever agree with her.
He had Lisa over that night, and Vicious knew that he'd be receiving a phone call from the concierge in the morning.
He'd left the money on the nightstand, but she didn't move to take it.
"You're such a great-looking guy." She said absently, rubbing his back. "I don't see why you need to pay anybody to sleep with you.
"Maybe I should just ignore you the next time you call." She laughed. "Give you an opportunity for happiness. But then again," she kissed the back of his neck, "you are my best customer."
This was easy, Vicious thought, as he turned around to look at her, look at her tired face, resigned to the fact that she was a prostitute, that she'd be trapped in that life forever. And he thought, this is easy, because it's business between the two of us, and I can learn a little from you, how to distance myself from everything, how to detach myself from who I am, who I really want to be.
It was late in the afternoon, a week later, when Wolfe called him. Vicious had been smoking again, a habit that was growing on him. He had assumed that if he were going to be an addict, Spike's image in his head would become a secondary thing.
It hadn't.
"The fuckers want to speak with you tonight." The familiar voice said. "You'd better go meet them. Same place, same time."
"Who the fuck are you talking about?" Vicious spat, throwing the cigarette butt into the ashtray on the coffee table. He missed.
"The Chinese." Wolfe said. Vicious sat up, waving off the smoky haze that had settled around his head. Their gang leader sounded frustrated, an emotion of which Vicious had assumed he wasn't capable. "It'll be your last time."
"What makes you say that?" Vicious said, standing up, heading for his bedroom. The scent of cigarettes was so deeply ingrained in all his clothing-- he had nothing to wear. Fuck.
"Your last time alone." Wolfe said, his voice suspiciously calm again, and Vicious gripped the phone tighter, as if that would choke the answers out of Wolfe. "That's what I meant."
"Spike isn't going?"
"He could tag along, if that's what you wanted." Vicious could hear the smirk in the other man's voice.
"I'm fine." He said, curtly. "The Regent hotel."
"Have fun. And another thing--"
Vicious waited.
"Report back to me tomorrow morning at nine. I'll see you at Annie's."
Wolfe hung up, and Vicious threw the phone down on his bed. The suit that he had worn the other day was at the cleaners, and he didn't have an iron. He could ask Spike for a change of clothes, but Spike's own wardrobe was probably spread out across the expanse of his apartment as well.
Vicious had just come out of the shower, a towel slung around his hips, when the doorbell rang.
He opened the door to find Spike standing there, dressed in a dress shirt and pressed slacks, a tie thrown haphazardly over his shoulder, as if he had rushed out in a hurry. Before Vicious could say anything, something was being shoved in his face.
"Special delivery." Spike pushed the plastic-wrapped bundle in his arms, and pushed past Vicious into the apartment. Vicious closed the door and inspected the thing Spike had given him-- it was his suit. He glanced up in surprise, and Spike shook his head.
"We have a double date again. I did you a favor picked it up from the cleaners."
But Wolfe had told him-- Vicious shook his head. "I thought I was going alone."
Spike raised an eyebrow. "Didn't they tell you I was coming?"
"I got a phone call from Wolfe." Vicious unwrapped the suit from the plastic, laid it out on his couch.
"He told you this was a solitary assignment?"
"I was under that impression."
Spike shrugged. "Wolfe probably doesn't know I'm going, then. But Lin called--"
Vicious held his breath, and waited for Spike to go on.
"--he said that he and Shin have something to tell us." Spike grinned, and turned around, wandering into the kitchen. "You know the rule of the second date. Secrets, base one."
"I thought you didn't date, Spike."
"It all depends on your definition of the word." Spike retorted. "Going on one of the meanings, I think I've been dating for a fucking while."
Vicious wondered what the hell that was supposed to mean.
A few hours later, at the Regent, seated in a booth near the back of the restaurant, Vicious was mulling over his Chardonnay and Spike was pushing his unfinished steak around his plate.
Apparently, the Yeung brothers had left a few things out during their introductory meeting. Then again, Vicious thought, that was to be expected. But what Vicious hadn't expected was the speed at which the Chinese were proceeding with the merger deal. Perhaps Wolfe had been more willing to compromise than he had thought.
Maybe they had bypassed Wolfe altogether. That was certainly a possibility.
The Red Dragons of Mars had no ultimate plan for economic or political control. Wolfe seemed perfectly content with his rent boys and rent girls, the nightclub that he co-owned, the few corrupt police officials he'd managed to become friends with. The way the Chinese saw it, and the way the Yeung brothers had described, there was a great deal of potential within their small organization, but Wolfe didn't seem to have any aspirations. The Yeung brothers had met Wolfe once, and when the Elders analyzed their reports of the man, had decided that if progression and annexation of their organization were in the near future, then perhaps Wolfe would not be assimilated into the new faction of the Red Dragons.
"It is a coincidence that you shared the same name as our age-old clan." Shin smiled. "Perhaps it was out of curiosity that the Elders decided to investigate your organization."
"And exactly how far--" Vicious interrupted, leaning in to look Shin in the eye. "--does your clan operate?"
Lin sat back, folding his napkin and placing it on the arm of his chair. "That was one of the things we were going to discuss tonight." He cleared his throat. "The Red Dragons is not merely an operation based in China. We exert a considerable amount of political and economic control over most of Southeast Asia."
Spike whistled. "The whole eastern hemisphere. Impressive."
Lin smiled. "The Yeung clan-- our family-- is based in Hong Kong. There are other families as well-- notably the Xing collective, stationed in Beijing, and the Mao clan, located in Taiwan."
"And your elders?"
"They are actually located at a base on Io, and switch their base between one on Io and one on Jupiter. The Elders have somehow managed to operate and guide all the clans even with something like the asteroid belt in the way--" Shin paused, "--which is why, I think, that the Elders are looking forward to expanding onto Mars. Again, we wanted to merge with your organization because it is already quite established within this locality."
"The only reason we can tell you these things is because the Elders have already made their decision." Lin said. "We are almost ninety-nine percent sure that we will annex your organization and make it a division of our syndicate."
"Has Wolfe agreed to this?" Vicious asked.
"The man--" Lin sipped his wine, "--is not to be bothered, on our orders."
"Not to be bothered, or not bothered with?" Spike shook his head.
Lin smiled distantly. "Both."
Spike looked at Vicious, eyes stormy and pained, and they seemed to say, Wolfe put his fucking heart out on the line for this, for our Red Dragons. He's a bastard, but he worked for it. Where the hell do our loyalties lie?
Vicious wanted to say, I put my fucking heart out on the line for this, for this thing I can't name. I'll never get it, no matter how much I work for it. My fucking loyalties are with you, Spike Spiegel.
Spike looked away the moment Vicious finished the thought, and Vicious wondered if divine fate had planned this cosmic irony.
"At any rate," Shin stood up, and Lin followed suit. "We should be going. It's getting late."
"And--" Lin pulled something out of his pocket and tossed it in Vicious' direction. "--this is for you. From the Elders."
Vicious looked at it, Spike looked at it from the corner of his eye.
It was a cell phone.
"We'll be calling you." Lin said, and extended his hand. "Spike. Vicious. Good night."
"I'm telling you, man. Wolfe fuckin' bugged your phone."
They were walking back to the parking lot, and it felt much like the other week when they had been walking, except Spike wasn't leaning against his shoulder for support, Spike wasn't drunk like he had been the other week.
"I wouldn't put it past him." Vicious said.
"That's why you didn't hear about tonight." Spike said, folding his arms behind his head, lips turned downward in a pout. "Wolfe had tried to convince me not to go. I guess he thought that you would have fucked everything up."
Vicious held back a chuckle.
"At least everything makes sense now, right?" Spike said. "Wolfe bugged your phone, and now we know for sure that Shin and Lin don't plan to invite him to any future parties."
It was an unspoken thing between them that Wolfe had not bugged Spike's phone because Wolfe had given Spike his trust.
"Shit." Spike stopped and sighed, and Vicious turned around to face him.
"What?"
Spike looked at him, peeking through his bangs, and his lips were stretched tight with the indecision of whether to say something or not. "You know what this means, right?"
"I think I do." Vicious replied mildly.
"So what the hell are we supposed to do?"
Vicious bit his lip, and uncharacteristic action that betrayed his anxiety. He turned around, determined not to let Spike see.
"What do you think?" He asked, and he heard the other man chuckle.
"I'm doing--" Spike exhaled, and his voice softened. "--whatever you're doing."
"That's funny." Vicious said lightly. "I was about to say the same thing."
Spike placed a hand on Vicious' shoulder and turned him around-- Vicious didn't meet Spike's eyes.
"You're serious." Spike said. He nodded to himself. "Well, that's fucking fabulous."
Vicious looked up, an eyebrow raised. Spike let him go and laughed, shaking his head.
"Neither of us can make a decision." Spike said, grinning. "We are so fuckin' dead."
It took a moment for Vicious to appreciate the moment, the incongruity of it; it took Vicious a moment to realize that he had made a confession that Spike had seemed to accept it without batting an eyelash.
Vicious remembered something as they got in the car, as he turned the key in the ignition.
"I have to report in to Wolfe tomorrow morning."
"Shit." Spike's eyes widened imperceptibly. "Where?"
"Annie's." Vicious said.
"Do you want me to--"
"No." Vicious finished Spike's thought. No, he didn't need Spike there. But the offer was enough to assure him-- that--
I'm doing whatever you're doing.
There was a moment of silence, before a hushed okay, and Vicious hid a smile, hid a sudden, absurd rush of happiness that had coursed through him.
"Vicious--"
Vicious turned around, impassive.
"Seatbelts." Spike reminded him.
tbc
A/N: Thanks for reading! 3 I plan to have the next part out within a month or so, and I will definitely begin writing it once the review counter hits the 80-mark. =3
I've actually decided to expand Symphony Hall into an epic about Vicious' life from the Red Dragons' early beginnings with Wolfe to its end when Vicious is finally its ringleader. To clear up any confusion that might remain: the Red Dragons that are on Mars now are run by Wolfe and have nothing to do with the intergalactic Chinese mafia of which Shin and Lin are members. As you can tell from their dialogues, there will be an eventual coup… but how will this affect Vicious and Spike's relationship? evil grin That remains to be seen.
This fic is purely based on speculation and my interpretation of Vicious' character. It's probably way out of line with what Watanabe & Co. had in mind for the cast of Cowboy Bebop, but I had always been disappointed that they'd never made a prequel. I guess this is my way of venting frustrations.
Thanks to everybody who stuck around for so long. I know I haven't updated this in like… almost a year, really. Oo School = time-consuming. Unfortunately, so is fanfiction-writing. ;;
The review button is right there! points down Go on, click it! ==
