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!

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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.