Title: Never Leave Me 2/5
Author: Gail Christison
Pairing: B/G
Rating: NC-17
Summary: The timeline is kind of Jossed now, but Giles is back and Buffy remembers his birthday at last and organises something equine for them to do. In due course revelations and romance ensue. :-)
Distribution: All those who have permission. Also my site: http://www.wickedsky.com/oncemore very shortly
Feedback: I'd love to know if you liked it :-)
Disclaimer: Joss owns everything yadda yadda...
Author's notes: This is a fun B/G fic that grew out of a discussion I had some time ago with Gileswench. I actually finished the story before I went to Hawaii, but it's been in beta until tonight. :-) Hope y'all enjoy. Big Big thanks to Karen, Headrush and Liz for their input and encouragement. They had a lot to do with how the fic finally turned out and I can't thank them enough for that.
Dedication: To Good Friends. All of you...you know who you are :-) Enjoy the Season, be well, and above all be SAFE.

"Jeez, Giles, don't get too carried away," she teased, urging the Max down a slope. "You could at l--"

But her last words were lost in the chaos of the dun stepping into a hole and stumbling, unable to regain its balance on the slope, then throwing the unsuspecting Buffy during its desperate lunge and twist, before crashing to the ground.

"Buffy!!" Giles was off in moments, dragging the reins over the stallion's protesting head and dropping them, hoping it was trained to stand, but in no state to take notice either way as he rushed to the crumpled figure on the ground.

The gelding had struggled back to its feet and seemed little the worse for wear apart from a gash on its knee and a tendency to favour its near foreleg. Its reins had also dropped and it wasn't inclined to move anyway.

Giles slewed to a halt on the green grass and came to his knees alongside Buffy, who was groaning, lifted her into his arms and brushed the disarranged blonde strands from her face.

"Buffy? Buffy, are you all right?"

"I'd b-better be," she growled wheezily, winded. "Since you d-decided to b...be really sm...smart and move me." The blue grey eyes opened and discovered themselves only centimetres from his face. Her lips parted in surprise at the proximity of his amazing eyes and a mouth that she noticed for the first time, despite her own discomfort, was intensely sensual.

When her wind returned and her back stopped smarting enough for her to focus any sane thoughts whatsoever, she cleared her throat. "I...I'll be fine. Slayer healing and everything...I don't think anything's broken, except my pride and my knee..."

"Your knee?" Giles asked, concerned, shifting her in his arms to look at the torn knee of her jeans. "You're too bloody thin. It's a wonder you haven't broken every bone in your body," he added roughly.

"I'm fine," Buffy insisted tartly, then looked up at his bleak expression, finally understanding how much she'd frightened him, and relented. She touched his face, then realised what she'd done and tried to ignore the rush of feelings that followed. Somehow, her fingers against his warm, smooth cheek connected them in a way she'd never have believed possible, made him...there...in a way she'd never imagined or felt before.

After a swift intake of breath, the only noticeable response to her touch, he looked down at her, the green eyes darkening in his otherwise tense, pale face.

"It's okay, Giles. Really," she added, trying to reassure him. She tried to lift herself a little to prove it to him, prompting him to shift as well to keep hold of her.

Their faces moved so close together Buffy could feel his warm breath on hers.

Above her, Giles could see the faint freckles on her nose and cheeks.

When she finally lifted her eyes to meet his, something overwhelming passed between them. Buffy felt Giles tense, and knew a moment of wanting to flee, but instead found herself frozen, their eyes still entwined.

Giles swallowed, his throat aching and his heart racing. He wasn't thinking consciously, lost in the beautiful eyes looking into his soul, and the procession of emotions they and her touch were invoking.

At that moment a scream from Bastian rent the thick silence and they both scrambled to their feet instinctively, Buffy wincing and using language Giles had never heard her use before, when she put weight on the knee.

The big horse was sniffing the air.

"What's his deal?" she growled irritably, trying not to notice the arm Giles was using to steady her.

"He can smell other horses on the breeze that just struck up," the Watcher explained and in one motion slid an arm under Buffy's legs and lifted her into his arms.

"Giles?"

When he reached Bastian's side, he sat Buffy on the saddle, allowing her to swing her good leg over as the horse jigged and moved, then handed her the reins, Buffy steadying the beast while he mounted fluidly and settled behind her.

By the time Giles had guided the stallion over to Max and caught up the other horse's reins, Buffy's back was easing a little, soothed by the warmth of Giles' chest. She was painfully aware of every inch of contact between them, and of his subtle cologne... something she would know anywhere, like a signature...something that had always been as much a part of him as tea and wiping his glasses...although he'd spent the better part of the day without them, having pocketed them as they got out of the car.

It wasn't until Giles turned the animals for home that Buffy pulled herself from the small world within the circle of his arms and straightened. "Where are we going?"

"Back. You're hurt and Max needs attention."

"But...your picnic. I'm getting better by the minute...and look, Max isn't limping any more."

"The gash on his knee needs attention," Giles insisted, trying desperately to ignore his reaction to Buffy's body leaning against his, the sweet scent of her hair in nostrils far too close to it...but most of all the poignant feeling of, for once, being able to protect her, hold her, shield her in the circle of his arms, from all the hurts and the...

He let it go. He knew he wasn't really shielding a Slayer from anything, but for once in a very, very, long time it...everything...felt right...or at least felt the right way round.

Buffy looked back at Max, who was dutifully plodding along behind them, seemingly unaffected by his misadventure. "It's not bleeding and it doesn't seem to be bothering him. Do we have to go back right away? He looks fine. If I can handle an hour or two, the horse can too," she finished dryly.

Unwilling to let her see how much he also wanted to stay, Giles persisted, even though he knew it wasn't much more than a scratch: "Max is an animal and we owe him a duty of care, because he can't make that choice for himself," he pointed out.

Buffy wilted. *He hadn't felt it. He didn't want to spend the time with her. Couldn't get away fast enough...*

Giles felt the lithe body leaning against him slump markedly and his expression became bleak, as though he could feel her hurt and unhappiness as acutely as she, herself, did. He looked up exasperatedly at the sky and exhaled audibly.

"The oak tree over there seems to have a lovely clean patch of grass under it. We can rest there for a bit," he finally conceded and turned the horses toward the great, spreading tree. Max was consuming the soft green grass even before Giles lifted Buffy down, wincing as sounds of pain were torn from her involuntarily.

"We should have gone back," he said unhappily. "You could be more hurt than you realise..."

Buffy snorted as she tried to unbuckle Bastian's saddlebags. "Six years of getting beat-up, burnt, bashed, stabbed and occasionally shish-kebabbed, not to mention dead every now and then, and I think I know when I need to go visit the nice ER doctors," she growled. "Can't you just get everything out of the saddlebags?"

Giles rolled his eyes, but complied, pulling out a variety of packages and small boxes from the large saddlebags and undoing the bedroll from behind Max's saddle to provide them with a small blanket.

Buffy made her way creakily to where Max was grazing and retrieved more items including a bottle in a soft chill-pack. By the time the whole spread was unpacked Giles was staring incredulously at everything from finger sandwiches to champagne, chicken and fresh strawberries and a can of whipped cream, to a small flask of tea especially for him.

"You like?" Buffy asked when they settled.

Giles laughed in spite of himself. "It's very impressive."

"Cool," she grinned and pulled her hands from behind her back, one of them holding a small mud-cake not too much bigger than his open hand, with the word 'Giles' written in white icing across it and a single candle in the centre of it. "Happy birthday, Giles."

He sat for a long moment, moved, then accepted the cake still sitting safely in the now open plastic box it had been packed in. It had survived relatively well, only the end which had been 'down' in the saddlebags, slightly squished, though the smallish lettering was a little smudged from leaning against the lid of the box.

They ate with appetite, including all the little, mostly chocolaty, extras that were in Buffy's hamper, Buffy elated that Giles was really starting to relax and enjoy himself. He was leaning forward to lift a strawberry to his mouth with his fork when it dropped off, plopping in the whipped cream she'd insisted on squirting on his bowl of fruit.

Without even thinking about it, she skewered the errant strawberry with her own fork, twirled it in the cream and brought it to his lips, her own mouth open to tease him about not even being able to control fruit, when their eyes met and she realised, once again, what she was doing.

Buffy swallowed nervously half a beat after Giles did. After another atmosphere filled moment, he covered the forkful of fruit with his mouth and slid the strawberry off it, with most of the cream, turning red as he did so. She took the fork away self-consciously and went back to her own dessert, not looking up at him again until they were done.

"Y..." Her voice cracked. "You, um, want some tea?" she managed, holding up the flask.

"Please," he said, almost too eagerly and took the thermos flask from her, using the cup-lid to pour himself some of the hot beverage.

After about his third sip he noticed that she wasn't eating or drinking.

"Are you all right?"

Buffy shrugged, but winced as she did so, rendering her effort to look casual quite futile. "No worse than after a heavy fight," she lied.

He frowned. She was pale and pinched around the mouth. "It was a lovely meal, but I really think I should take both you and Max back to where we can find you some expert care."

He deliberately extended a hand for Buffy to take and pull herself to her feet, which she did, defiantly, but, Giles could see, not without a great deal of pain.

The packing up was a slow process, putting everything back in the saddlebags even more trying. Eventually though, they were on their way, Buffy settling in Giles' arms with far more contentment and...pleasure...than seemed quite right in terms of their current relationship.

For his part, Giles was concentrating on guiding and controlling Bastian, the stallion less than happy about his load, the proximity of the gelding and not being allowed to gallop out his freshness. It was all Giles could do to stay focused on that and not let himself think too much about the warm figure fitted against him and the scent of her, both driving his senses silently to distraction.

When they reached the stables again he dismounted first, before taking Buffy's waist and lifting her down.

She found herself missing the warm strength of his body from the moment they parted, not just because of the rush of cool air on her back, but because it was like a connection being broken. It was disturbing and unsettling. Giles *wasn't* very, very old and he most certainly *was* a man, two items that Buffy had carefully tried to avoid addressing for a very long time.

He set her down in front of him, very close, and supported her while she tried the knee again. In a way she was annoyed that Slayer healing had made such inroads already. She didn't want him to stop taking care of her...touching her. That thought made her eyes widen.

"All right?" he asked gently.

She shrugged off the disturbing thoughts. "Yeah, I'm fine, Giles. You know...Slayer healing...the one-stop, Slayer repair shop," she said reluctantly, but honestly, then smiled. "Not that I mind the TLC," she added, too late.

He'd removed his hands and straightened. "In that case we'll find some attention for Max."

*******

"I am glad Max is going to be fine," Giles finally said, to end the silence that had hung between them all the way back to the outskirts of Sunnydale.

"Me too," Buffy said quietly. "I mean...also going to be fine here, too, and...yay for Max."

Giles frowned a little. Her voice was uncharacteristically flat.

"Buffy? Are you in pain?"

"Huh? Oh...no," she said, without elaborating. "No, I'm fine." She wasn't going to tell him that while all the little nasties had cleared up her lower back was still killing her, and probably would for a few more hours yet, until the rapid healing finally got to the bottom of the deep bruising.

His frown deepened. "But something is bothering you. Are you still worried about Max?"

She looked up at him in surprise. Why was he so worried about her moods all of a sudden? It wasn't like she was doing much other than sitting there...not talking...and trying not to think about the day being over very soon, and not knowing when, if ever, she would have another one like this one, with him...the falling off horses part aside.

"No. Nothing's bothering me," she lied, then managed a half smile. "Did I tell you that you looked like a god on that horse? I've never seen anyone look like they were part of the horse...literally...even when it was jigging around like it was standing on hot coals, before."

Giles smiled. "Thank you...I think. Bastian was just very fresh. It would have been kinder to find somewhere to give him an extended run and some good solid exercise, but he's a very, very valuable animal and the risks were too great, as evidenced by your own unfortunate mishap."

"Unfortunate is right," she muttered, still frustrated that they were fast approaching the turnoff to take them to the leafy area of suburban Sunnydale and back to the harsh, empty reality of the only existence she'd known since her return from 'otherwhere'.

"Do we have to go back?" she asked, surprising even herself.

Giles raised his eyebrows. "I suppose not. Why?"

She shrugged uncomfortably. "I just...don't want to right now. Your birthday was spoiled by Annie Joke-ley here proving that Slayers walk...they don't drive and they obviously don't ride..."

"I enjoyed our day immensely," he said, smiling a little. "It's true I would have liked it to be a little longer too...but I did appreciate the thought...and the chance to ride even while I'm over here."

Buffy managed to smile back a little. "I'm glad," she said softly, their eyes meeting and holding until something almost tangible passed between them again. Both their smiles started to fade at the same moment.

"I...uh...why...why don't we go to your place while we decide what we're going to do?"

"M-my...? My place?" His own stammer hadn't been so pronounced in a very long time. "I still don't have everything unpacked, you know. Pity the tenant's lease wasn't up sooner."

"Is it like it was before?" Buffy asked in a strange voice.

Giles paused to work out what she meant. "Well...it will be, when I've unpacked all the books...except perhaps it will be a little tidier...a-and Xander's new shelves, while quite the thing, aren't exactly the same as the old ones. On the whole, though, I've brought back most of my stuff, rescued my furniture from storage..."

She looked up at him then. "If you weren't ever coming back why did you keep the apartment and why didn't you take your stuff with you?"

He stared at the road for a long time. "I'm not entirely sure of the answer to that," he said quietly.

"It kept you connected," she offered in a sudden burst of perspicacity.

His brow furrowed. "Yes...I suppose it did."

Buffy only just managed to stop herself from asking him why that was necessary considering he'd been so adamant about starting a whole new life in Bath, England. *What kind of name was that for a town anyway? How about Table, Idaho or Chair, Connecticut?*

After stealing several glances at her, Giles wondered what was alternately amusing and disturbing his companion and why she seemed so off-kilter all of a sudden, as though something had unnerved her.

The car slid to a halt in front of the small garage and Giles pressed the button on his key chain to open the door.

"This is new."

"It was one thing to leave the Citroen out night and day...another altogether to leave an invitation like this on the street for car thieves."

She giggled. "I guess so...I mean, who'd steal the Gilesmobile?"

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