During the Cordelia kidnapping plot. Who: Spike, Logan, and possibly Rogue. What: Meeting up after getting kicked out storming out of the Hyperion like the rebels they are. When: Evening. Where: Cordelia's apartment. Rating: TBD. Expect a lot of cursing though. Spike + Logan? Come on. Status: In progress.
It didn't take Spike very long to get the hell out of dodge. He had thrown a few things into a bag, slammed the door shut behind him, and made a grand show of his exit by shouting out a hearty "FUCK PETER PETRELLI" as he stepped out of the building and started on his merry way to Cordelia's flat. It hadn't changed much since he'd found Kathy there after Cordelia had been snagged away. He stood in the doorway for a moment, his blue eyes running over the room spread out before him, before he stepped inside and reached into his pocket for his cigarettes. Moments later Spike was sifting through the mess in the room, cigarette pressed between his lips and his mind entirely focused on finding something -- no anything -- that would help him track down Angelus.
Oh, how he hated him. He wanted him dead. More than dead. He wanted him back in hell, right where he bloody well belonged. At least a huge part of him did. There was also the half that desperately clung onto the memories that he had with the creature that had abducted Cordelia. They had once been friends. Brothers. Angelus was probably the closest thing that he'd ever had to a family before. The way that their relationship had worked was probably a little sickening to most, what with the killing and maiming and all, but it did have meaning. Back when he was evil. And even now, if not just a little.
But that was irrelevant. Angelus was an enemy. Again. It was always one way or another lately, wasn't it? Either Angel had his soul and Spike didn't, or Spike had his soul while Angelus was running about. The latter happened to be a bit new. Spike had never been the hero while Angelus was the villain.
Except for that one time, Spike mused. Back before Buffy offed him. He wasn't really very sure if that counted for much though. All Spike did was help Buffy out a little before he snagged Dru for himself and took off. Still. Should've counted for something.
Pulling the cigarette from his mouth, Spike slowly stood and averted his gaze toward a nearby window. He'd find him. Soon enough.