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Last Glimpse

He would be in serious trouble if Angel found out that he'd taken the private jet without asking. Again. The great poof was a bitch about those things. Just like when he'd shredded the Viper a couple of weeks ago. But that hadn't been his fault anyway.

If he found out that he'd taken the jet to go back to Italy he would kill him once and for all. Even if he should be the one to understand him. But when it came to Buffy, he was… well, overly demanding. And jealous, as hell.

He wouldn't be able to stop him, though. Without the jet, it would take him about half a day to get here. Plenty of time.

*

Spike stood down on the street in front of the building they had left not even 24 hours ago. The night was still warm enough for people to crowd the plaza. They shuffled around him, some of them ran into him and mumbled an apology. At least he understood that much Italian.

He had a cigeratte between his lips, now took a drag and puffed the smoke into the air. His feet were glued to the concrete and he couldn't make them respond to his command. All he wanted was to go and have a look. Nothing more.

*

In one swift motion he was up on the fire escape. It rattled underneath his weight, the old and rusted metal creaking when he made his way up the steps to the third floor.

Light from the window cast a soft glow outside, dipping the potted plants on the little platform in a golden greenish light.

Carefully not to make a sound, Spike approached the window. He knew that it would lead to the living room of the apartment. He'd seen the fire escape from the inside when they'd been here before.

But still he hesitated. Was this really the right decision? Seeing her?

He didn't want her to see him, he just wanted to have a look, one last glimpse of her. When he'd taked to Angel about moving on, he'd been serious. He wanted to move on, desperately needed to, and still there was her. He just couldn't forget her. Not with her playing the leading role in his life for the last couple of years. Not with all the stuff that happened between them. Not with the words she'd said to him on that night.

This couldn't be their ending. Still, he had refused to see her after he'd been corporeal. What was he supposed to tell her? Honey, I'm not dead. Yeah, that would really work out.

No, all he could do was to have a look and then go on with his un-life. There were people's lives at stake over in LA. Apocalypse was brewing underneath their feet and they still had no idea what they were facing. He was needed over there.

So, Spike made a slow step forward and peaked around the corner of the window.

The TV was on; some series he didn't know and wouldn't understand. He had never been very good in Italian. The changing pictures flickered through the room, enlightening the couch near by.

And there she was. Buffy.

She had her feet on the coffee table. Her toe nail were polished in a light pink; just the way she'd done it whenever she'd been really happy. He hadn't seen that color much. He shifted a little closer and the fire escape came a shriek. He froze in place but Buffy didn't move from the couch. Maybe it was just his enhanced vampire hearing that made the sound overly loud.

It was then, that he saw him. The Immortal. He had known that he guy and Buffy were an item but he hadn't believed it. Not until now that he saw the two of them on the couch together. The Immortal still looked like he had back when they had met for the first time. He shuddered at the memory of him, it hadn't been a pleasant meeting. At least not for Spike.

And now this wanker was with his girl. No, not his girl. He was with Buffy. He had no right to claim her. Not after he'd died, and not before for that matter. But it still hurt to see them together. Snuggling.

His stomach twisted in knots at the picture and he let out a snort of disgust. But then he tried to focus his attention back on Buffy. She was the one, he was here for.

She looked beautiful, more than ever. Her hair had darkened a shade or two but it still had the honey color that he loved so much. It fell in soft curls over her bare shoulders. His fingers were itching to touch it, just to let one of the strand glide through his fingers.

She was taned. Maybe California hadn't been sunny enough for her. Her skin had a more bronzy color now, glistening in the light of the TV.

Then, suddenly, she threw her head back in laughter. He could here are rich laugh through the window and it was the sweetest sound he'd ever heard. She was still chuckling a little when she leaned her head against the Immortal's shoulder, snuggling more against him. She was tracing a hand over the guy's chest.

Spike felt a pang in his unbeating heart. It should've been him, sitting there with her, watching TV. It should've been him snuggling with, feeling her warm body pressed against his. He let out a sigh and without thinking of it, he ran with fingers over the window glass. All he wanted was to touch her for one last time.

But he knew that he couldn't. He knew he couldn't just show up in her world. She had moved on, she was happy. Happier that he'd ever seen her and all that was played out in front of him within the last five minutes. He had tried for months to convince her that she belonded with him, that she was part of the darkness he lived in. He knew he hadn't been right, all he wanted was to be with her.

But now he knew that she would probably be better off without him. Maybe she had said she loved him but that didn't count. It had been the words for a dying man, nothing more than that. He could never be with her, that was probably his curse. He could do whatever he wanted and it was never enough to make her happy, to make a love, to make her glow.

She was the blinding sunlight to his darkness. She didn't belong with him. She was part of the world he would never be able to touch, no matter how hard he tried.

Spike pulled his hand back from the window and stepped back into the shadow of the fire escape. He'd come here to take one last look. To see if she was alright. And she was. Without him. His task here was done, although he still refused to go.

Some insane part inside him wanted to jump through the window and play the knight in shiny armor, to save her from the claws of that unholy and immortal creature. But if he wanted to make something right for the first time, he would leave her alone. He would leave and let her live the life she deserved.

And there were people who really needed him. People over in LA. Friends. Well, at least something like that.

*

The vampire lept from the fire escape and landed gracefully on the concrete below. He didn't turn around. He would make up his mind if he did. So he strode down the street with a determined expression on his face.

He had a task to fulfil even though he had no idea what it would be. But he knew that Buffy could deal with herself. She was save. And she was happy. That was all he wanted if he couldn't have her.

Keeping that in mind, he headed back towards the airport. But it wasn't enough to make a single tear roll down his cheek.

*

Buffy turned her head towards the window and frowned.

"What is it, my sweet? See anything interesting?"

She turned her head back towards the guy beside her. "No, just thought I saw something." She stood and went over to the window, peering out into the night. But nothing was to be seen. "Hm.. maybe just cat."

"Yeah, probably. I told you not put any food out there. They always come back for more."

The Immortal pulled her back into his lap, running a hand through her hand.

But Buffy was stilling looking at the window. She could have sworn she'd seen something in her periphial vision. Then she shrugged. "Yeah, you right. They always come back."





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