Title: "The Gift Of Life... And All That Comes With It..."
Author: Della
Email: blindbadger@blueyonder.co.uk
Rating: NC17
Summary: "And we all come together"
Disclaimer: None of the Buffy The Vampire Slayer characters are mine... They belong to Joss Wheddon and UPN and WB and any others that have a rightful claim to them and the programme... No infringement was ever intended with this fanfiction...
Feedback: Yes please... *Constructive* flames keep the fire burning, but the good stuff keeps it alive...

Authors Notes: Just thought to say that this is not beta'd, so no complaints to Nikki, Cos anything wrong with this is all down to me... I hope you don't mind me sending this out unbeta'd Nikki? Oh and Jamie? I'm just finishing off the next Chapter of Vamp Child, Okay? - chuckle..

This is for Kerrie and her Birthday, which is tomorrow.. May 1st.. chuckle.. *ducks and runs for cover* - Hope she enjoys and also hope you all do too...

Well here it is, Happy Birthday, Kerrie...

He blinked once against the flash of lightening that illuminated his otherwise darkened front room of his apartment and then glanced further into the room. There, on the couch, sat his life, dishevelled in appearance with unkempt hair from the rain that had drenched them both.

He had silently watched her fall to pieces; and along with such a vision, so had his heart; but just as silently and as fervently he had prayed that she would come to him and ask for help. He knew though that time for such things had long passed away and also knew he had no right to want such a thing. He felt he had no right to expect it from her and yet he had still wished for it.

He looked up from the tea he was making and glanced towards his life, his ears picking up a hitched breath here and there and his eyes catching sight of her shivers. He knew that he should get her to change out of her wet clothes, but still she had not asked for his help.

He sighed and concentrated on the mundane actions of making tea for them both; his mind whirring as to how they both came to be here, together and silent, but in each others company...

~ ~

“Giles!” Buffy screamed.

Her Watcher turned and just managed to dodge a right hook that he thought, in a flash, was plainly to knock his block off. He rolled from the sudden movement and as he rose to his feet he threw one of his own and heard a satisfying crunch as his fist made contact with the Vampire’s jaw. He followed it with a kick to the groin and a two fisted punch to the side of its head.

As it fell, Giles scrambled in the grass to find his fallen stake. The moment his fingers touched the wood, he grasped it and turned with it raised above his head, ready to strike its un-beating heart. His head snapped to the left, but his mind only registered the anguished call of his name. ‘Must do better’ he thought as his head then snapped to the right. His mouth quickly filled with blood and he could feel his fingers growing numb, ready to drop the stake, but as he staggered back from another blow, all his thoughts remained on how he could stake the Vampire.

He suddenly realised that his eyes were shut. ‘Pratt!’ he silently remonstrated, then opened his eyes and lunged at the Vampire as a hand rose to inflict another blow. He barrelled into the undead being, growling as his head made contact with the torso. He grabbed the Vampire one-armed around the waist, and as he had done in a scrum or two in his Rugby playing days, he continued the run, taking the Vampire with him.

His vision spun a moment when they both made contact with something, then he head-butted the Vampire with the back of his head on its chin. He straightened, blinking the dots from his vision, and with a growl that reverberated in the clearing, he plunged the stake deep into the Vampire’s chest.

He stumbled into the dust of the Vampire’s demise and although his brain shouted 'No!' when he took a breath, his lungs demanded air. He placed an arm on the tree trunk in front of him and took in hacking gulps of dusty air. He thought to move, but his legs shook just thinking about it. He retched the dry dust from his lungs and then felt the contents of his stomach rise. His legs finally gave way and he fell to the ground, but his lungs sighed with relief to be able to draw in clean air.

~ ~

It was then that he had felt Buffy trying to hug him, whispering her mantra of fear. ‘Please don’t die... Please don’t die...’ He had been tempted to tell her that if she were to squeeze him any harder then there was more than a likely chance that he would, but the fear and desperation in her voice had rendered him silent.

He felt a tear rise the moment he realised just how far she had fallen. To be so grateful that an aged, decrepit old man had not expired, and that she did not want him to expire. A lump formed in the back of his throat with such a thought. He would have understood if she had pleaded with Xander, Willow or Dawn, but to plead such a thing for him?

A kettle whistling at him drew his thoughts back to the making a pot of tea for them both. He briefly glanced at his life on the couch and then finished making the tea. He picked up the tray that held the evidence of his ministrations and slowly made his way into the front room.

Such was the silence in the room he was not too surprised that he could actually hear each hitching breath and garbled exhalation that his life took. He was not too surprised to hear each move, no matter how little, his life made. However, his lack of surprise was *completely* obliterated by an overwhelming anguish that consumed the moment he set eyes upon his life’s face.

Her mascara had run and though it now left her eyes blackened by such a thing, it did not accentuate the harrowed look she was giving the far wall one iota. He could trace each tear she had shed by a black line that had obviously started from her eyes and had not ended until it had reached her chin. Her chin dimpled and her shoulders shook on every hitched breath.

He silently placed the tray on the table and made to pour the tea into the cups, but he stopped when he heard a whisper. "Buffy?" he softly enquired.

"Where’ve you been Giles?" she whispered again.

"Here," he replied just as softly, "where I have always been." He looked up and was surprised to find her looking right back at him. “Why?” he asked, “Why do you ask?”

“Have you?”

“Have I what?”

“Been here... all this time?”

Giles nodded and shrugged, “I had wondered on occasion if you had noticed.”

“So this is *my* fault?” she softly accused

Giles frowned at her. This was not making any sense at all to him. “Buffy,” he eventually muttered, “I have no idea what the fault is in association with and therefore cannot determine whether the fault is yours, mine or anyone else’s... Or,” he quickly added, “whether any fault at all should be placed upon someone.”

He watched her turn fully to him, pulling her legs up beneath her as she moved. “This, Giles... All of this.”

Giles looked around the room, still perplexed as to what ‘all of this’ implied. Not finding an answer in the walls or the furniture, he returned his puzzled frown towards Buffy and said, “I’m afraid you’re going to have to be a bit more specific. All of what?”

“This,” she softly growled, “You being here, but *not* here.”

The frowned deepened, “Now I am truly perplexed. I have always been here. Flesh and bone; pumping heart; fighting spirit; side by side with you. When have I *not* been here for you?”

“Now...” she replied, “You’re *here*, but you’re *not* here.”

“Would you mind explaining that?”

She hitched another breath and then said, “Old Giles would have said something that would have helped. The not so old Giles would have given me a hug. But the new and *improved(?)* Giles, he’s just sitting there, *not* being there.”

“You, you want me to give you a hug?” Giles asked, his heart blooming with hope. “Are you asking me to give you a hug, Buffy?” he whispered.

“Before I... I wouldn’t have needed to.”

Though his heart had bloomed, his thoughts turned inward and before he could stop himself, he heard himself muttering, “Yes, well, that was before you became quite adept at pushing me away.” The moment he had said it, he regretted it and he knew what her response was to be. He was not to be disappointed. With half-closed eyes of regret and a sigh that expressed that regret, he watched as she suddenly stood, her gait emitting her displeasure and ire. He followed her with his eyes as she stepped away towards the fake fireplace and he involuntarily flinched when she turned back to face him. Where there had been a harrowed look, now her eyes spat fire at him. He bolstered himself against the anger that was about to be unleashed.

“You know,” Buffy began through gritted teeth, “I had a feeling you was about to say something like that.”

“Deny it then Buffy,” he softly replied.

She took a threatening step forward, her face reddening with her anger, and she said, “*I*... *deny* *it*...”

Giles sighed and then turned to the tea that was waiting to be drunk. He put the cup to his lips, but stopped drinking when he heard a snarl.

“Cat got your tongue?”

“Hmm?”

Buffy took another step towards him. “I *said*,” she growled, “Cat got your tongue?”

“No,” he denied.

“So you’re not going to argue the point then?” she hissed.

“What point is there to argue? I thought you were above lying to yourself,” Giles simply replied and took another sip of his tea.

“Hah!” she snorted, “you’re a good one to talk, oh Watcher-of-mine. You’ve been lying to yourself the moment you got here. My *Watcher*?” she questioned derisively, “You were more like my *Father*.”

“And?” Giles queried.

“I never *wanted* a *Father*, Giles,” she yelled, “I *had* a Father, a *good* one as well. He might not have been around as much as I wanted, but when he was, or when I took the time out to go see him, he was a *good* father.”

“Then what exactly *did* you want from me, Buffy?” Giles asked, feeling his temper rise in accordance with her own. “Did you want a Watcher like Wesley? Cold hard facts, with little or no care at all for your safety? Is that what you wanted? I mean,” he added as she opened her mouth to answer, “it was not as though he really *needed* to care for you. Why should he? We had a surplus of Slayers-In-training. So *what* if you happened to lose your life...” His breath caught in the back of his throat. He swallowed the rise of emotion that had scrunched his heart into a tiny ball and had painfully settled in the middle of his chest, before he continued, “So what if you *had* lost your... your life, there were plenty of other Slayers-in-waiting to take your place... Is... Is that what you wanted from me, Buffy?”

“No,” she whispered and turned away from him. Seeing and hearing any form of emotion from her Watcher had always affected her far more than she would ever admit. More than anything she wanted to sit next to him, feel the comfort of his arms around her, hear his whispered words of consolation, just so she could whisper hers back to him, but whenever she saw the tears in his eyes, heard the pain in his voice when they ever discussed her demise, it had always rendered her silent.

Giles placed the cup of tea on the table, stood in one fluid movement and asked, “So what exactly *did* you want from me?”

“You,” she softly whispered.

Giles felt his heart lurch, “What?” he gasped.

Buffy turned to face him and said, “I wanted what I *had*. I wanted someone who*did* care whether I lived or died. Someone who *did* love me, and... and I got my wish. I got you. I got someone who *cared* for me, someone who *did* love me, *did* care whether I lived or died, but... but you’re not *here* anymore. You’ve left me all alone, Giles.”

“I have *never* left...” Giles stated vehemently, “I was *always* here... Buffy... Buffy, sometimes you can be an inch from someone, someone that means the world to you, and *still* be alone. Simply because you realise that *their* world doesn't include you.”

“I guess we’re both guilty of that.”

Giles shook his head. “No,” he denied just as vehemently, “No, Buffy, I’m not guilty of that. No matter where you were...” He placed a hand over his heart and tapped his chest with his fingers, as he added, “you were *always*, and will always be, right *here*.” He swallowed the emotion in him and softly added, “It is not *I* that left *you* Buffy, but rather *you* left *me*. Whatever purposes you thought befitting of me to perform, it eventually occurred to me that I had served each and everyone of them and from that moment on... from that moment on, it was *you* that pushed *me* away.”

Buffy sat down heavily on the couch and contemplated what Giles had just said to her. Of all the years she had known him; unlike some she *could* remember a time without him and it was far colder than any after effects of a rainstorm; she had never really thought about him and how he might have felt about things. But then how could she? She could only see things from her perspective and they had never been good. Well, okay, Angel *had* been good, but then it had been bad, *really* bad.

Then she heard Giles telling her how disappointed he'd been when she hadn't told him of Angel's return. And from that came all the other moments in time where Giles had actually told her of *his* anguish. Had she listened? Had *he* listened to *her*? She felt the guilt of such a question instantly rise in her. Of course he had. But was it up to her to listen to *him*? Again she felt her stomach twist with such a thought. Of course it was. But he *had* been distant. Was that down to her?

Though she could feel the beginnings of a headache forming, still she thought on all that had happened over the years she had known him and she came to the conclusion that he was right. She *could* explain to him why she had pushed him away, but even in her head it came over as just a fit of jealousy. First there had been Miss Calendar... Jenny... Then there had been Olivia and now, when she thought about it, she was feeling jealous of her own sister. Why? It's not like he had any romantic feelings for her. She blinked, surprised at the sudden thought. Romantic? Romantic feelings? She blinked again and then slowly looked up at Giles.

For the first time in her young life, Buffy felt each piece of the jigsaw slide smoothly together, interlock, fit snugly together, to never part again. Romantic... Yeah she liked that and she also liked the warmth such a thought gave her, but they still had this, whatever it was, hanging over them. "I'm sorry," she eventually whispered with intensity, "I'm sorry Giles."

"Sorry for what, Buffy?"

"For that, the anger that I've put in your voice. For the emptiness I've given to you in exchange for all the love that you gave to me. For the pain that I've caused you whenever I *did* push you away." She took a breath and quickly added, "I... I can explain that Giles, but even *I* know that no matter how much something can be explained, it still doesn't take away the pain someone else felt at the time. But I *am* sorry for it."

Giles took a half step towards her, his heart demanding him to take her in his arms, but her raised hand in the air stopped him.

"I... I can’t even promise that I won't do it again,” she softly added with regret, “I *want* to, you know? I *really* want to, but I'll only hurt you again if I did."

"Buffy, please..."

She shook her head at him and whispered, "I want my Giles back again. I don't like this new improved one." She then looked up at her Watcher, knowing her eyes searched deeply within his own, and said, "Do you know where I can find *my* Giles, Giles? The old Giles, the one... the one that loved and cared for me? The one... the one that *I* will *always* love?"

Giles had to sit down. He couldn't believe his ears. She loves me? His heart painfully beat in his chest with a hope that had kept it beating; despite the anguish it had endured with each rejection. He then turned to his life and bit his lip to hide the despair that was fighting to be expressed. He leant a little forward and drew Buffy into a gentle hug. "I love you Buffy," he whispered, "I have *always* loved you. I have always been here, but I changed because I *had* to, to survive, not because I wanted to."

A hand found its way to the back of her head and he caressed her there, whilst the other rubbed circular patterns of comfort in her back. He felt a shudder go through her body and then tiny sobs from her that shook his own. He pulled away from her and rubbed a thumb across the mascara tracks that had signified each shedding of her tears. Although he smeared it more, he still thought she was the most beautiful, exquisite woman he had ever met.

Before he knew what he was doing, he brushed the fringes of her hair from her face, leant forward and gently planted a kiss on her trembling lips. He could taste the salt of her tears. He then broke the kiss, placed his forehead to hers, closed his eyes and savoured this moment; this simple moment of sharing a kiss with his life; something he had only dreamt of.

# #

Buffy watched him a moment, then ran a finger through the grey hairs at the side of his head. She cupped him at the back of his head and returned the kiss that he had just given her

She wasn’t sure *why* she wanted this, but she knew that more than anything else, more than perhaps her own life, she *needed* this. If nothing else, her thoughts of the past had convinced her that no other man would love her as deeply, no other man would place her life above his own; Angel included; all offered and willingly given in the name of love. Angel might have, one time in her life, but now, if destiny demanded such a thing then, and only then, he would. But she knew that no matter the sacrifice, and how cruelly this might be, but only for the sake of love would she accept another life in place of her own. And in that moment she knew this man that she had missed for so long, would give his own life in a blink of an eye for her, his Slayer, but also for the woman he loved.

All this time she’d spent looking anywhere and everywhere for something that had never been more than a foot away from her. Wasted time? No. She looked at Giles and for the first time allowed herself to see what had always been there; his love for her.

She cupped his face in her hands, smiled and then drew him close to kiss him again, only this time she did not want him mistaking it for affection. This time she did not want to leave any doubt in his mind at all of what and how she felt about him. Her tongue darted out to part his lips and the moment they had, she plunged into his mouth with fervour and tasted him. She moved so that she straddled his thighs and then squirmed, enjoying the roughness of his jeans against her bare legs.

Her heart skipped a beat to hear him moan, but she wanted more of him. She sat on the bulge in his jeans and wriggled, squirmed, whatever it took for him to get the message and he did. She jumped as his fingers made contact with her panties and then squirmed again as they parted the seam and sought her most intimate self. She thrust down onto them and clenched them tightly when they entered her, pushing and thrusting, moaning and groaning, seeking a satisfaction. "Giles," she whispered around her kiss, "take them off." He did. She broke the kiss and unzipped his jeans, relishing the hardness of his penis inside them. It was warm and smooth to touch and seemed to have a pulse of its own. She was about to caress it, but stopped when she felt his hand on her shoulder and looked at him.

"Not here," he whispered, hoarsely.

"Yes, here, Giles, now... right now, on the floor. I want to feel the carpet beneath me. Please," she whispered in response. She then felt herself being lifted and placed gently on the floor. The shag pile rug beneath her back was glorious and her body tingled in response to it. She squirmed beneath the course hairs and sighed with pleasure when she had found the most comfortable spot.

Buffy purred like a cat and then opened her eyes to look up at Giles. She swallowed deeply to see that the tears had returned, however, unlike the many times before, she actually found her voice this time. "It's not a dream, Giles," she whispered, "I love you," and gently touched his face to prove such a claim.

# #

Giles looked down upon his life and allowed the tears to rise in him. He had thought to be friends with his life, as long as his life was *somewhere* there. He would have accepted as much, but this was beyond anything he could have ever expected. Dreamed of? No... but then dreams are exactly what they are. Well, that's what he had initially thought. As if she had read his mind he heard her whisper an assurance to him, that all of this was real. He blinked the tears from his eyes, feeling their silent retreat down each cheek, then leant forward and softly kissed her. "I love you too," he whispered in response.

He gazed upon her and with a silent nod of approval, he gently pulled the hem of her blouse from the top of her skirt and ran his hands across her smooth, firm stomach. For a moment he relished the feel of her beneath his fingertips, before gently making the journey to her breasts. He lifted the bra from them and flicked his thumbs across the nipples, feeling them harden instantly. He heard her snatch a breath and then hiss through gritted teeth. Had she waited as long for this as he had?

He continued to flick at the nipples until Buffy moaned, buried her head deeper into the rug and lifted her hips towards him. He pushed down on her most intimate and flicked a finger inside of her, feeling himself harden as she responded to him. He continued to flick at her, on and on, until her hips did a frenzied dance and she tried to take them deeper inside her. He took his fingers from her and sucked them clean, savouring the taste of her, until his own desires got the better of him. He was no longer satisfied with simply tasting her, he *wanted* her… here, now and whole.

He moved a little way down her body, until his penis stood invitingly at her opening, then plunged in to the hilt. When Buffy moaned, he fought the desire to repeat such an action, until he was sure that she was ready. Then he plunged again, and again, and again; holding her hips in his hands in the air. He fitted her perfectly and she fitted him. She had found him, he had found her and his whole body rejoiced and sang with delight.

Tears of his joy accompanied each thrust; each moan from her; and a determination to bring her to completion bolstered each delicious, liquid move from him. Each thrust brought him closer to her, each moan of desire that he could not contain moulded them, until there was no distinction. They were one and would always be. No longer Slayer and Watcher; no longer Buffy and Giles; simply one love and one heart that beat in time with each other.

Her cry that echoed in the room; that bounced off the four walls that contained it; had him thrusting harder and faster. Together forever they would be and this was not to be an exception. On and on, deeper and deeper, until he felt the first rising of a cry. He looked down at his life as he heard her whisper to the deity above and then both voices, joined as one, cried out their love for each other, as a supernova took their senses from them.

# #

Giles greedily gulped in oxygen as he tried to take control of his breaths. He brushed the damp fringe from his life’s face and whispered his undying love for her as she too tried to gather herself. He moved from her, but kept in contact with an arm about her waist as he lay beside her. Once he had found his voice he whispered, “No more pushing me away?”

Buffy shook her head.

“Promise?”

Buffy nodded.

“I’d like to hear that promise, my… my love.” He had the urge to laugh as she obviously tried her best to find her voice, but the need to know, to hear her promise, had him patiently waiting instead.

“I… I promise, Giles,” Buffy eventually whispered and as he opened his arms to welcome her, she returned his smile and snuggled into the comfort of them.

Giles placed a soft kiss on her temple and whispered, “Goodnight my life and now my love,” He softly chuckled when a deep sigh of satisfaction and a smile filled with warmth crossed Buffy’s lips.

# #

“Aww,” Willow whispered as she pulled away from the window, “Isn’t that lovely, Xand?”

“I-I think I’ve gone blind, Wills…”

With a giggle, Willow whacked him on the arm and said, “But we only saw them snuggle up and declare their undying love for each other. We didn’t get to see anything else.” Her face scrunched up a little on that thought, as she added, “Eww, not that I would have wanted to.”

“You and me both,” Xander declared, “Not that I’m not saying that I won’t need therapy just seeing them snuggled together.”

Willow whacked him again, “Are you telling me that this doesn’t make you happy?” On his raised eyebrow, she added, “Aww, come on Xand, they love each other, like you and me. What’s wrong with that?”

“What, me and you being in love?” he asked, but on *her* raised eyebrow he admitted, “Yeah, okay, Buffy and Giles making goo-goo eyes at each other, of the good. Okay?”

Willow nodded with satisfaction, linked her arm through his and as they started to move away, she whispered, “How about we go home and declare undying love to each other and then snuggle up to each other too?” As Xander looked at her she waggled her eyebrows at him and then started to giggle when he got *the* look he always got, just before.

# #

Buffy nudged Giles and whispered, “Did you hear anything, Watcher-of-mine?”

“Only the pop of all my dreams coming true,” he whispered back. Then he looked around the apartment and added, “But in my dream I get a good night’s sleep in the arms of my life and love. Hmm,” he muttered with a hint of mirth, “my dream was better. At least I got a good night’s sleep.” He squealed and rubbed his arm as Buffy whacked him there and then he softly chuckled.

As the moon glistened in the night sky, and the stars twinkled in reverence to it, Buffy and Giles’ laughter reverberated in the quiet of the apartment; stirring the pot of destiny once more, but this time in their favour.

The End