Lindsey had been out for less then twenty minutes before he found the missing Dex. It was almost as if it had found him, like it was trying to find home. He bundled it into the truck and drove back to Halley’s apartment. It was remarkably co-operative. There was no fight left in the beast, and it’s sad eyes looked tired and weary of life. In a lot of ways, Lindsey knew how it felt.
“What are we going to do
now?” He asked the creature. He tried to phone Hal but her cel phone was
off. For a moment, he would have given
anything for the demon spawn in front of him to take all his worries. He hid it in the spare room and locked the door. He poured himself a drink and sat down to
wait for Halley. Somehow phoning the
Hyperion never occurred to him. She’d
come home eventually. He wasn’t risking
his neck any more.
Suddenly he decided he needed more than just the wine Halley kept in
the house. He took his keys and headed
for the door. The Dex would be all
right. He would just go to the bar on
the corner and sink a few beers. He
deserved it. Inside the locked room the
Dex grew a little sadder.
They pulled up outside an
apartment block just in time to see Lindsey leave on foot.
“You think you can take an
order and just do it?” Snapped
Angel. He didn’t wait for a reply. “Follow him.”
Spike jumped the car door
and leaned in to kiss his sire on his broken nose. “Okay.” He said and was
gone.
Lindsey stepped up to the
bar and ordered two beers and two double whiskey chasers. He downed the first whiskey as soon as it
arrived and banged the short glass on the counter for a refill. He felt strange, almost euphoric and he
hadn’t even been with the Dex that long.
Maybe he was just in greater need of a soul cleansing than most. Of course getting drunk while the woman you
loved was in trouble wasn’t exactly the most moral thing to do but what the
heck? The Dex would absorb his sin and
everything would be fine. He wondered
if it took the hangovers as well.
A stranger sat down next to
him and ordered a JD, neat. “You put an
ice cube in that and you die.” Said the
man to the bar tender, cheerfully.
Lindsey eyed the newcomer up and down.
He was dressed head to toe in black.
It contrasted sharply with his pale skin and bleached white hair. He wore various cheap silver rings and his
stubby fingernails were painted black.
There was something about him however that screamed power, even though
his frame was wiry and compact.
Something in the chiselled features, bright blue eyes and confident
almost cocky manner.
“Drinking for two?” The man said in an accent that was almost
certainly British. “That’s a sure sign
of heartache.”
“Did I talk to you?” Lindsey snapped belligerently.
But Spike carried on, “You
know, them what wallow in self recrimination usually ‘ave a soul what’s
sick. Some of us would call it
brooding.”
Lindsey moved away but Spike
just followed him down the bar. “I’ve
tried it you know, the booze. Don’t
heal y’soul.”
“If your one of those born
again deals, just forget it. I’m a lost
cause, so go preach to someone that cares!”
Spike laughed, “Born
again. Yeah, you could say that. Thought I’d lost me soul too. Funny things, the soulless.” As he talked the pieces of his existence
began to fall into place. The pain of
his life before his change, the humiliation by Cicely, Dru leaving him, his
unrequited passion for the Slayer and his eventual leaving of Sunnydale, it was
possible all these events could be attributed, in part, to him having a sick
soul. He wasn’t man enough to be a
demon and he wasn’t demon enough to be a man.
“I’m not soulless!” Lindsey was shocked by that last comment.
“No? Well maybe not yet but you’re well on the
way.”
Lindsey pondered on this for
a minute, “My boss said the soulless live forever.”
“Yeah, but that can be a
very long time. And in the long run –
it don’t bring ‘em happiness. Existence
ain’t life.”
“Tell that to most
vampires. Oh but I don’t suppose you
believe in such things.” Lindsey said,
still thinking he was talking to some religious nut.
“Oh I believe. All I’m saying is you can’t cure the soul by
means of the senses. I think that’s
what makes Angelus so bloody straight laced.”
Spike thought that maybe this is what he’d been trying to do ever since
he was a human child, the big bad image, the acting out, and all vain attempts
at soul curing.
“You know Angel? Did he send you after me? Tell him this is Halley’s problem, not mine. This time my conscience is clear.”
“Which is why you are in
here, drinking for England!”
Lindsey said nothing to that.
Who was this strange man Angel had sent after him? Or was he a man at all? Lawyers worked for profit and all it made
them was sick. It poisoned the soul and
the Dex was proof of that.
“I’m not your errand
boy. You can tell ‘im yourself when you
finally roll home.”
It took a while for that to
sink through the alcohol. “Brilliant distraction, Angel.” Lindsey chided
himself mentally and without another word, he headed for the door.
Spike snickered to
himself. Doing good was always so much
more fun when you could be evil at the same time. He followed Lindsey out of the bar…. Without paying.