They moved into a ground-floor flat around 10 years ago. Oz told everyone it was because he missed having everything on the same floor, but Giles saw him on the stairs from time to time, when Oz didn't know he was looking, seeing him take each step so slowly, feet barely lifting to reach the next one.
It takes a lot of out of you, over the years. Even when you think you've suppressed it, you've calmed it down with meditation and peace, it's still racing through your blood, it's still fighting against your muscles and bones, constantly wanting to move and change and turn them into something resembling human but not.
Giles isn't going to lie to himself, the lack of stairs is a help to him too. And turning the bath into a walk-in shower with a chair helps as well. He's not completely frail, but he has been feeling his age more and more recently.
But when he looks at Oz, he can see every single moment of the past 25 years etched on his skin, the pain lines around his eyes, the grey at the temples (he stopped dyeing his hair over a decade ago).
They look more appropriate now. They shouldn't, there's still a rather pointed age gap between them, the kind that had people looking askance at them when doing the weekly shop, but, now, they just look like two men, one turning elderly, one clinging on to middle-age, both of them watching their steps as they walk along the ancient stones of Bath.
He hasn't let it stop him, though. Oz still works, driving a small van from the centre of town to the American Museum, delighting the tourists when they realise a real-life American is taking them to the museum. He talks to them on the way up, sometimes sharing stories about growing up in Southern California, sometimes just recommending them to try the Waldorf Salad or check out the cow skull motif on the walls.
When he has to take some time off, he tells them it's an autoimmune condition. Which, in a way, it is.
Living in Bath helps too. Residents of Bath get a spa discount on Tuesdays, and the smaller outdoor thermal spa is good for a weekly soak.
They occasionally use the Roman baths too, despite the lead sheeting and ancient stones. The two of them helped with a poltergeist decades ago, and the ghosts that inhabit the area behave if someone comes and talks to them every few months.
The Georgian ghosts like to talk to Giles — after all, they have the same social standing, they're sure of it. He's obviously a gentleman, even if his companion might not be.
Oz doesn't mind. The Roman ghosts like his accent in Latin anyway.
Giles knows that, one day, sooner rather than later, things will change. Neither of them is getting younger, and no one really knows how long werewolves live.
But, for now, 20 years on, in their bed, he can wrap his arms around Oz, and know that, for today, everything is perfect.
This Angel/Buffy the Vampire Slayer story was written by Kate Bolin. If you liked it, there's plenty more at http://www.dymphna.net/fanfic/. And you can feedback her at dymphna@dymphna.net.