Giles; Angel/Cordy
He stared down at the inevitable outcome he could feel looming down upon him. He had tried so hard to be cunning and smooth, to use the right weapon in every battle, to outwit the hand of Death which never stopped reaching for him. But it had come at last. There was no way out. Rupert Giles sighed deeply and pushed his glasses back up onto the bridge of his nose. "Very well," he intoned. "Just do it."
"You're dead," Andrew called gleefully.
"Bloody game," Rupert muttered, withdrawing from the game and swearing, once more, never to play with children.
The End
He slipped back into the welcoming darkness of his room as the sun rose over Los Angeles and knew instantly he was not alone. He turned, knowing what he would find and yet still feeling the breath he didn't need catch in his undead throat upon the sight. His lips trembled upwards into a smile. He'd never seen anything more beautiful.
His longing, loving gaze made Cordelia's entire being warm. She tried not to worry about him as he fought each night, but it was an impossibility. A girl couldn't help worrying about the hunk she loved, even when she knew said hunk could take on the world and kick the butt of every Demon in it.
"Morning." He watched her as she walked to him, took the offered blood, and drank it silently. When he was done, she was waiting for him in bed. He laid beside her, took her in his arms, and held her there. They exchanged no kisses for they knew to what they would lead, only caresses, but for Angel, just holding his Princess, loving her without words or passion's embrace, and knowing she loved him was enough to make every night worth the fight.
The End