Angel looked stunned as the screen faded to black and the credits rolled.  Spike rose quietly, pushed the eject button, and reverently placed the disc back into its holder. 

“No, that can’t be it,” Angel spluttered in disbelief.  He pushed his chair away from the conference table as the big screen retreated slowly toward the ceiling.  “It’s like—  It’s just—  You come to depend on certain things in this life.  There are certain people and places you get invested in, and, almost without realizing it, somehow they suddenly mean something to you, something you can’t even explain.  You don’t just want to know how things turn out for them; you want to be a witness to their journey, you know?”

Spike nodded sympathetically, snapping the DVD case shut and sliding into the soft leather seat opposite Angel.  “I hear ya, mate.  Bleedin’ shame, it is.”

“I mean, all that’s left now is a big, empty hole, sitting right in the middle of everything.  Why did it have to end?  What are we supposed to do now?”  Angel’s expression was dejected as he started to pace the length of the room.

“Beats me.  They should just cancel Wednesday night while they’re at it.  It’ll never be the same again, that’s for sure.”

“Well, I wouldn’t know about that, now, would I?” Angel growled in frustration.  “I never even saw the damn thing when it was actually on the air.”  He gestured wildly.  “Hello, champion here.  It’s not like I had the time to sit around in front of a television.  I was out saving lives, helping the hopeless, not watching this teen-oriented crap.”

“You do realize you’re raving now, right?”  Spike interjected, rolling his eyes heavenward.

Angel continued, seeming not to hear.  “No, I have to let you talk me into watching after the show is already cancelled.  Thanks a lot, Spike.”  His pacing stopped as he glared at Spike.  “And I have the sneaking suspicion that you did know how the final episode turned out, despite your unconvincing protests to the contrary.”

“What?  Who, me?” Spike asked innocently.

“Yes, you.”  Angel’s eyes shot daggers.

“Hello, champion here – I was a little too busy saving the world last year to set the VCR for the finale myself,” Spike reminded his companion.  “I might have read a spoiler or two on Red’s laptop, but that was it.”  He ignored Angel’s noise of triumph.  “Thank God for DVDs.  These things will last for ever, barring apocalyptic destruction and the like.”

“What I don’t get is why she didn’t end up with her first love.  He was a good guy, right?  Come on, he was it for her.  Right from the very beginning.”  Angel kicked over the wastebasket in annoyance.  “What a stupid way to end a show.  You know what I feel?  I feel betrayed.” 

“Yeah, ‘cause people don’t grow and change and move past their first infantile ‘twu wuv.’”  The hint of genuine surprise in Spike’s voice at the show’s ending couldn’t quite mask the note of satisfaction.  “It’s the difference between an idealized fairytale romance and real life with all of its messy conflict and great passion and raw need.  But I guess you wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

Angel crossed his arms defiantly over his chest.  “They were totally wrong together.  Joey and Pacey brought out the worst in each other, and you know it.”

“Once upon a time, yeah.  No doubt about it,” Spike agreed easily.  “But things don’t stay the same forever.  It’s called life, Peaches.”  He looked thoughtful.  “I gotta admit, though, it threw me for a loop.  I watched the two of them for years, and it was always the same.  I’d say, ‘Pacey, you stupid git, she’s just using you.  It’s all about Dawson.  It’s always about Dawson.’  Or I’d say, ‘Pacey, you blind idiot, she doesn’t love you.  Not really.  You’re just fooling yourself.’” 

Now it was Spike’s turn to begin pacing the floor as a frown line appeared between his eyes.  “But I guess she did mean it, all along.  He’d been burned by her so many times, you can see why the guy had a hard time believing it, but she really did love him after all.  She meant what she said.  She meant it.”  He came to an abrupt halt and smacked his forehead.  “Oh, bloody hell.”  Spike turned on his heel and headed toward the door.

“What?  Where do you think you’re going?”

“Can I borrow one of the cars?  And how about the jet?  Can I use that?  What time is it in Rome?”  Spike glanced at his watch.  Then he stepped away from the door, uncertain.  “What am I doing?  Maybe I shouldn’t….”