Originally, Anya wasn't supposed to be a character in Seven Years at all; I can't remember who I was planning to pair with Giles or if I'd even thought about it, but as I was writing the first chapter, something happned. Anya appeared and was very insistent that I'd forgotten about the curry she'd planned for dinner. The inspiration behind this was Lori's wonderful Giles and Spike Collection which is where I first saw the possibilities in Giles and Anya together.

This story was written for Lori's birthday and is a little glimpse into Giles and Anya's life as they reach the end of their first year together.

London, March 2004

For the fifth time since the estate agent had let them into the property, Giles felt compelled to say, "Darling, you can't be serious."

Anya paused in her examination of the rather large tub in the master bathroom, looking at his with a mixture of disappointment and confusion. "You don't like it? It's large enough for both of us and it has whirlpool jets, which could be both relaxing and entertaining."

"I meant *this.*" He made a sweeping gesture and hoped she understood that he meant the house and not the wall color, which he also despised and would most definitely have to be changed if he gave into this mad scheme. "When we discussed moving, I thought we were talking about someplace just a little larger than what we have now, not..."

He wasn't quite certain how to describe the six-level renovated Georgian town home, but it certainly wasn't what he'd envisioned when he and Anya had made the decision to look for something larger than the three-bedroom flat in Chelsea he currently owned. Part of him wanted to suggest they permanently move to the family home outside of Bath, but that was impossible. There were Anya's rapidly growing business interests and his position as the director of the newly-created Field Services department for the Council, both of which required they remained in the city. There was also the problem of their long-term lodger, but that was more a consideration of space and Giles had to admit that wouldn't be a problem here.

"The library's absolutely tiny," he said at last, grasping for the one impossible flaw he'd seen so far -- aside from the size of the place and the appallingly large price tag. "There's no possible way it can accommodate my collection."

Anya considered him for a moment, then smiled and reached out to take his hand. "I'm going to show my husband the upper floors," she said to the discreetly hovering estate agent. "We'll be back in a few minutes."

The woman smiled professionally and stayed where she was as Anya tugged Giles toward the stairs. He must be mad, he thought as they climbed to the third floor...but if he was, he'd been mad for almost a year now.

It had been a year, he realized with a start, not really listening as Anya showed him the floor's single bathroom, then ushered him into the back bedroom she was considering claiming for an office. A year ago, they'd both been in Sunnydale, dealing with the Big Bad Du Jour and the fragmenting relationships of those around them.

"Rupert?"

Giles brought his attention fully back to the present to discover Anya in front of him. "You disappeared on me. You worry me when you do that."

Something he had not intended to do. "Sorry. I was just remembering...I just realized we've been together for a year now."

"Actually, it won't be a year for another six days," she corrected. "I've made plans and you *will* come home from the office on time for them."

"I think I can arrange that," he told her with a smile, then kissed her. He knew his colleagues regarded his relationship with Anya with a smile and a wink, certain it was the middle-age crisis of a man who'd spent far too much time with his slayer and her friends. It should have bothered him, he supposed, but it didn't and it wasn't just because he knew Anya was a bit older than her appearance led others to believe.

"The library," she whispered against his lips."

"Hmmm?"

"You were complaining that the library downstairs was too small; I wanted to show you my solution."

He didn't really want to think about the library at the moment, not when they were standing here like this. "If you think it's alright, I'm not worried about it."

That earned him a slap on the shoulder and an annoyed expression. "Rupert, we were going to make this decision together, remember? I would do the preliminary search and then we'd review my choices to see where we should make our offer. It's a little difficult to do when your mind is on spontaneous semi-public sex." A bit of a smile and she softened slightly. "Not that I would necessarily mind. But I do want you to see this room first."

There was a time he would have sputtered that semi-public sex was not what was on his mind...except that it was and he'd learned that she was actually a good deal more sensitive to moods than she let on. A vengeance demon was supposed to pick up on emotional changes, after all; Anya simply ignored most of the shifts around her as a coping mechanism. It'd caused some false steps between them and more than one argument, but they were still learning. Any relationship took time and work.

He wished Buffy had understood that before everything went to hell.

Firmly pushing such thoughts from his mind, he followed Anya to the other bedroom on the floor, located at the front of the house. "I was thinking we could put the books you'd like on public display downstairs and the rest of the collection could go up here."

The room was large, almost double the size of the room downstairs he would wager. Two windows over looked the street, providing a fine southern exposure. "There's plenty of room for a desk," Anya continued, "and you are going to need a space at home where you can work. I've checked and the house is wired for a broadband connection, so that's not a difficulty. We could modify the closets to hold shelves and put new doors on them so you could lock up anything you didn't just want lying around."

She looked at him with a sly smile. "Still think you don't have enough space for books?"

He was already imagining bookcases lining the walls and where he'd put his desk. "Have I told you lately that you're bloody brilliant?"

"Not often enough, so thank you." Anya slipped her arm through his. "Do you like it?"

"It's...the thought of actually having enough room for everything. You know me very well, Anya." He frowned as he remembered the smaller room they'd just come from. "I don't want you stuck in something small if you're going to be working at home. Perhaps you should take this."

"Or I could take the one exactly like it upstairs."

This time, he didn't need to be coaxed to head for the stairs. As she had said, there was another bedroom with the same floor plan directly above the one they'd just left. The only major difference was that this one had the bathroom en suite, as did the other bedroom on the floor. "It's a shame it's so small," Giles said as they stood in the second bedroom. "With the northern exposure, I'd say it was perfect for Spike."

To his surprise, Anya wrapped her arms around him and hugged him with all her might. "Darling, what's wrong? I just assumed that..."

"You're wonderful," she said, her eyes bright with moisture. "All those years in Sunnydale, all that training as a watcher and you can look beyond the fact that Spike and I are demons."

"I love you," he said, holding her just as tightly. "That means accepting all of you. I know Xander..."

Anya pressed her fingers against his lips. "Don't. I don't want to deal with that now. Xander's my past; you're my present and future."

Hearing her say that, he knew again why he'd thrown caution to the winds and acted on his feelings a year ago; his life was better, warmer, and fuller with her in it. She understood what his work entailed and how he hoped to effect changes within the Council. More than that, she was perfectly willing to wade in and help kick butt if necessary. She made him laugh, drove him nuts and lifted the ennui that had set in with middle age, even with a full schedule of minor and major apocalypses to combat.

When she let him speak again, he told her, "I suppose you've already run the numbers and figured out how we're going to afford this."

Anya's smile filled the room with bright sunshine. "So you like it?"

"I'm horrified by it. It's large, extravagant and just a bit pretentious."

"But you'll be happy here?"

"Does the plumbing work?"

"They assure me it does; I plan to have it checked."

"Then I'll be happy."

More hugs. "I suppose we should go down and make the formal offer before someone snatches up this bargain from under our very nose."

"They wouldn't dare! I'd have to..."

She'd reached the top of the stairs by the time she realized he was teasing her. "That wasn't nice, Rupert. I've been working very hard on this house search, dealing with estate agents who claimed to understand what I wanted but were really just interested in pushing me toward what hadn't been moving very fast. I know this technique because I used to do it at the store; how do you think I got rid of those dreadful petrified hamsters you'd ordered? I needed someplace with decent electrical, decent plumbing, decent heating because you do get chilly no matter what you say, enough room for your books, enough room for my office and someplace where we can stash Spike so we can make certain he's not spending his time drinking or deciding to go sunbathing."

Anya paused to take breath. "Do you mind having him about? You've always said you don't, but as much as I like him, I would prefer to have the place to ourselves. I mean, I know he's busy studying Sumerian and Aramaic at Cambridge so he can do more translation work and thank goodness that keeps him occupied, but it's been nice just being the two of us these past two months."

"So you think we should find someplace else for him?" This was a wrinkle Giles hadn't considered. It had been Anya who'd retrieved Spike from his dingy little rented room about a month after the three of them had arrived in London from Sunnydale and deposited him in the third bedroom of their flat, a space Giles had previously used to keep those books he didn't have shelves for. It'd been Anya who'd cut the flow of alcohol and bullied the vampire into starting to look toward life after Buffy. "He might take it hard."

"Yes, which is why I was thrilled when I discovered this place has a mews flat in the back. It has a nice-sized living room, a kitchen, space for a washer and dryer and two bedrooms on the upper floor. He'll be nearby, which I'm afraid will be a good idea for a while longer, but we won't be living on top of each other anymore."

Giles thought for a moment. "I was wrong. This place isn't a little bit pretentious; it's very pretentious." He gestured down the stairs. "Shall we go have a look?"

The agent was more than happy to take them through the small house at the back, though she looked a bit confused at Anya's comment that larger workings would be better done here because the concrete floor of the garage itself was less susceptible to damage, as well as the discussion about tinting the glass to make it vampire-friendly...although Anya caught herself before she actually used the word "vampire."

The negotiations were, as he expected, bloody, but his demon emerged victorious and by the beginning of May they were moved in. Spike made the trip down to London the weekend they moved and was duly invited across the threshold of both the main house and the mews, joking that he knew Anya was doing it so he could help haul boxes. Anya's response was that it didn't make sense to waste vampire strength when it was available.

The evenings were pleasant, a hint of the summer to come and they opted to dine in the garden on Chinese take-out and beer, lounging in old chairs Anya was insistent were soon going to see the skip. Giles leaned back contentedly as Spike and Anya discussed how her new endeavor as business manager/personal shopper for demons living in the London area was going and she grilled Spike on his activities at Cambridge.

Idly, he let his mind drift, mulling over possibilities and different paths he might have taken. It felt strange to be so at ease; spring was usually the time when everything came to a head and they were all fighting for their lives and to save the world. "I wonder what they're doing in Sunnydale?" he asked to no one in particular...and regretted the words the moment they left his mouth.

The silence was immediate and painful. Spike was intently studying the bottle in his hands and Anya was favoring him with a glare that warned he might be sleeping among the packing crates that evening. "Sorry. I didn't mean too...I was just thinking how nice it was here and what a change from the usual spring apocalypse."

"Been thinking about that too," Spike said quietly. "Don't suppose you've talked to our girl recently?"

Giles hadn't and he felt a bit guilty about it. He'd been making an effort to keep in touch with Buffy, make certain everything was going well, but things had gotten away from him in the last month and he hadn't called...nor had she called that he knew of. "I should let her know about our new number at the very least."

"I talked to her last week," Anya said, gathering up the empty food containers. "She's doing well and wants us to send her pictures of the new house. She's annoyed you haven't called, Rupert, but she understands things have been hectic. Please send her an e-mail at least. The boy Dawn was hoping would ask her to the junior prom has and Buffy has reassured herself that he has a pulse and is human on both sides. She's also going to be able to keep an eye on things because the faculty has been asked to act as chaperones. She wishes she could come to visit this summer, but she doesn't think that's going to be possible. Willow has joined a new Wicca group and she thinks its best she stays around to keep an eye on things; apparently, Willow is dating someone in the group, which is how this came about."

Giles hadn't missed the hopeful light in Spike's eye, but if Buffy had asked after him, Anya wasn't saying. That he'd spoiled the mood was obvious from the way she was cleaning up what little mess they'd made. "Anya..."

"I'll toss those, pet." Spike rose from his chair and grabbed the containers before she could protest. "I should be trotting off to bed, anyway, let you two have some alone time."

"You don't have to go. You know Rupert didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"I'm fine," Spike insisted softly. "Got some reading to do and I know you're going to have me working tomorrow unpacking those book crates." He kissed her affectionately on the cheek. "It's a lovely house; you two go enjoy it."

She didn't seem in the mood to remain outside after Spike made his way down to the bottom of the garden and disappeared into the mews house, so Giles followed her back inside. "I'm sorry, darling. It just slipped out. We spent so many years following the same cycle..."

"That you can't break it now that you've left Sunnydale behind." Anya paused, one hand on the railing that led upstairs from the kitchen. "You don't want to go back, do you?"

"What makes you think I would want to do that? I mean, I miss Buffy and Dawn and Willow. I even miss Xander to a certain extent, although I doubt we'll ever be more than merely civil to one another again. That doesn't mean I want to go back."

He closed the gap between them. "Anya, when we came to London, I worried that *you* might miss Sunnydale since that's the only place you've lived as a human. At least in this millennia, anyway. The fact that you've embraced it so thoroughly, even to the point of convincing me we should buy this insane house, makes me happier than you can possibly imagine. Why should I want to go back to a place where you weren't happy?"

"Spike talks about going back."

"Spike hasn't gotten over Buffy; until he does, a part of his heart's going to be in Sunnydale." He took her hands. "My heart's here and as long as you remain, this is where it's going to be."

Anya kissed him and it was a wonderful feeling, standing here at the foot of the stairs of *their* house. For the first time in a very long time, he felt like he was home.