Title: The End
Author: Tonya
Rating: PG
Pairing: Giles/Anya
Disclaimer: Never owned them. Damn my luck…
Distribution: SU, Acts of Fate, Precious Moments, and anyone else who
wants it. Just ask!
Summary: Anya knows it’s the end. (POV)
Dedication: To Twi who has been urging on my Ganya spirit and for all my
fellow G/Ay’ers!
**********
The end is near. I can feel it.
And not because every single sign seems to be pointing towards the big
badness from underneath. And not because Buffy has to make it a habit of
giving us one of her oh so rousing
we’re-all-gonna-die-if-you-don’t-straighten-up speeches every day. No…
because I can just *feel* it.
I’ve witnessed a near-apocalypse here and there in my 1200-some-odd years,
and as a demon, I even cheered on the end. I mean, it wasn’t as if
destroying the good guys would hurt me any. There were plenty of angry
female demons to keep my vengeance going for decades to come. But with
every quasi-apocalypse that has come and gone, I’ve known deep down that
none of them were the one. The one that would be successful. The one that
would actually bring darkness and blood. The one that would end the world
as I knew it.
But I have that feeling now, and quite frankly, I don’t like it. Not one
bit.
I close the book I’ve been reading from with a sigh. Sitting on this couch
for three hours, flipping through dusty old book after dusty old book, and
for what? To come up with nothing-- over and over and *over* again.
I glance over at Giles, who was the one who suggested I help him research,
asleep on his end of the couch.
“Giles,” I say quietly, frowning.
He doesn’t stir at my voice, his light snoring never missing a beat.
“Giles!” I say louder, poking him in the side with my book. “Giles, I need
you to be awake.”
He sits up quickly, nearly losing the journal that is open in his lap. I
watch him with slight amusement as he sits quietly for a moment, trying to
gather his senses. Once he remembers where he is, he slowly turns to
me.
“How long was I asleep?” he asks, removing his glasses and placing them on
the coffee table.
I shrug and glance at my watch as if time even matters anymore. “I don’t
know exactly, but your snoring was bothering me.”
“I do not snore,” he says defiantly.
I simply raise an eyebrow at him. “Well then I don’t want to know what
those noises were that you were making.”
“Am I to assume that since you woke me you were able to come across some
useful information?”
“Yes, if you like your useful information non-existent,” I frown. “This
book is pointless, Giles. *All* these books are pointless.”
“Anya,” he sighs.
“What? You know I’m right. We’ve been through tons of books, Giles, and
none of them have anything we can use.”
“Not yet, but I’m sure we’ll stumble across something, Anya.” He retrieves
his glasses from the table before sitting back and flipping through the
journal in his lap. “We just need to keep looking.”
I sigh and open my book again. I glance at the page, slowly running my
fingers along the edge of the paper.
“What is it, Anya?”
I look up at him, and his eyes are still focused on the book. “What?” I
ask innocently.
“I can hear the wheels turning inside your head,” he says, his attention
still on the journal. “Just say whatever it is.”
I close the book again, frowning deeply. “We’re not all going to make
it.”
He finally looks at me, his eyes searching mine.
“We’re not. You can keep denying it all you want, Giles, but we’re not.
We’re going to die.”
I watch him as he closes the journal and places it on the coffee table. He
sits back slowly, crossing his arms over his chest.
“We may not, Anya,” he finally says to me. “But I have to have faith that
we can make it through.”
“That’s not faith, Giles. That’s denial.”
He glances at me, a bittersweet smile on his face. “You know, when I first
came to Sunnydale, I knew mystical forces liked to converge here. I
thought I understood that life on a hellmouth would be anything but easy.
And it seemed that every year we faced the end of the world, and I suppose
we did. But in the end, we made it through. We saved the world before the
world even knew it needed saving….” He pauses, glancing around the empty
leaving room before letting his eyes fall back on me. “But I think our
luck may be running out, Anya….”
I can only stare at him, shocked. I don’t know what exactly I expected to
hear him say. But even as I called him on his denial, I never expected him
to actually agree. I never expected to hear Giles-- the foundation, the
life and blood of our group-- admitting defeat. Never….
“I think I liked you better with the stiff upper lip, Giles.”
He chuckles quietly, and I feel the stomach turn into a tight knot when I
hear the sadness in his laugh. “I think I liked him better as well.”
We stop for a moment as we hear the sounds of laughter upstairs somewhere.
It’s followed by shushing most likely from a fellow Slayer-in-training who
is actually trying to sleep this late at night.
“They still have yet to realize the magnitude of the situation,” Giles
sighs. “I don’t think they ever will until it’s too late.”
“You really *do* believe we’re not going to make it, don’t you?” I reply
quietly.
“Yes, but so do you.”
“But I’m allowed to,” I reply, my eyes wide. “You’re Giles! You’re
supposed to be stalwart and annoyingly optimistic about our odds.”
“It’s hard to stay that way, Anya….”
“But, Giles, you have to be,” I reply, and I feel my voice reaching a
frantic level. “Who will if you’re not?!”
“Anya,” he says quietly, placing a hand on my knee. “Anya, you said
yourself that we’re not….”
“I know what I said, but I didn’t expect you to agree with me! I expected
you to do what you normally do-- say my name in that really annoying way
you do and roll your eyes at me. That’s what you *always* do. But if you
agree with me then….”
“Then what, Anya?”
“Then it means it must be true. That it *has* to be true. And as much as
I'm irritated by this human form and its pesky emotions and tendency to get
injured, I don’t want it to end. Not yet anyway. I mean, I still have so
many things I need to do. I planned to reopen the Magic Box and then there
was the whole hiding from D’Hoffryn for the rest of my life thing. And I
still have to purchase three more CDs to fulfill my music club
membership!”
Giles shushes me gently, placing a hand under my chin and directing my eyes
to his. “Anya, you haven’t survived so many centuries just by pure luck.
You have one of the strongest wills to survive that I have ever seen.” He
gently strokes my cheek with his thumb. “And that determination of yours
will see you through this. You’ll be around for the next apocalypse and
even for the one after that. I know it.”
I bite my lower lip, fighting back the tears, as I stare into his eyes. I
want to believe him. I want to believe we’ll all make it through, that
we’ll be able to defeat the First and things will return to how they had
been…. Back when Giles could be the stalwart optimist and I could be the
cynical thorn in his side….
“Giles, I….”
I lean forward and to my surprise he doesn’t lean away. He lets me invade
his personal space-- to get close enough to see how tired his eyes really
are, to smell that aftershave he uses every morning.
“Giles,” I say, my lips brushing against his.
“Yes, Anya?” he asks, his eyes searching mine.
“We’re not all going to make it, are we?”
Giles slowly reaches up and brushes my hair back from my cheek. “No,
Anya, probably not.”
As his lips finally take mine, my mind goes back to one last thought.
This is the end.
End.