Title: "Her White Knight" (3/?)
Author: TheQueenly1
Pairing: Giles and Buffy, naturally!
Rating: PG for this chapter. Other chapters may have different ratings.

Disclaimer: As far as I know, all the characters of "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" are owned by their creator, Joss Whedon. I do not own them; if I did, Buffy and Giles would have been a couple long ago. I am a B/G 'shipper, and proud of it! Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, so please don't sue. The original characters in this story are mine, however.

Summary: Buffy and Giles are sent back to the thirteenth century, and in the trials and travails they experience, they discover their love for each other.

Spoilers: At least up to "After Life." It is AU after that. Buffy never became sexually involved with Spike. "Tabula Rasa" might have taken place after this story, but if it did, it had a very different beginning and ending.

Notes: This story was written in response to Challenge # 4 here at the ODD website, "The B/G Knight Challenge." English as it was spoken in the thirteenth century was not much like English as it is spoken today. I have tried to get the vocabulary and mode of speech correct while still making the dialogue comprehensible to contemporary readers. I am sure the speech of the medieval characters as I've written it in this story is not entirely accurate, but English is a language that has always been changeable and flexible, so try to look at it from that perspective. [Brackets] are used to indicate unvoiced thoughts. *Asterisks* are used for emphasis.

Buffy roused herself slowly from a deep sleep, feeling almost the way she had upon being resuscitated from being drained and left to drown by the Master--knowing that something really bad had happened to her, but feeling good now, feeling strong. She opened her eyes.

There was sunlight, she was surrounded by it--no, *he* was. A mail- clad figure stood over her, at the foot of the soft bed upon which she was lying, the sun glinting off his armor in a way that was dazzling, almost blinding. She could see nothing but the armor, the sun's rays so intense upon it that the steel plate and iron rings appeared white.

[My White Knight,] Buffy thought dreamily. [Come to protect me.]

"Buffy, how do you feel?" a soft, familiar voice asked anxiously, and at the same moment the knight changed position, drawing near to the side of the bed so that the sun no longer fell directly upon him. His armor no longer appeared quite so dazzling, and she could see the man's face.

"Giles?" she squeaked in disbelief.

"Yes, Buffy." With exquisite gentleness, as if she were something precious that might break, he leaned over and took hold of her hand while seating himself carefully on the edge of the bed. "How do you feel?" he asked again.

Buffy gazed at her Watcher openmouthed. [Whoa, Giles looks manly. Even studly. He looks like he could rescue princesses, slay dragons...]

Memory flooded her and she sat bolt upright. "The dragon," she cried.

"It's dead, Buffy. It's all over, and you're quite safe now," he said soothingly.

"Dead? How? It was still alive when I passed out."

"I, er, finished the job."

"Hey, that's my Watcher!" She beamed at him and then frowned. "Giles, what the hell is going on? Did we stumble onto a movie set or something? There's no such thing as dragons."

"Some people would say there is no such thing as vampires," he said dryly.

"Okay, point taken. But you haven't answered my question."

He spoke very carefully, as if trying not to alarm her. "We are in England, Buffy, in the late thirteenth century. This is the castle of Duke Edward, and you are lying in the bed of his daughter, Lady Eleanor. It was she whom you and I saved from the dragon."

The Slayer stared. "Oohh-kay, I guess if I can accept a fire- breathing dragon, I can accept that part. I know there's something pretty real about being almost eaten by a nasty lizard with big sharp teeth and a thyroid problem."

"Actually, Buffy, the dragon didn't breathe fire, it spat venom." Giles' expression became animated. "This confirms a theory I have held for a long time--namely, that the dragons of folklore were in fact real animals that once existed until they were hunted into extinction, probably by the end of the Middle Ages. They 'breathed fire,' or at least some did, by spitting venom, as some other species of reptiles do--"

"Earth to Giles," Buffy said. "We have more pressing problems. Like how to get back to our own time." She smiled at him. "Not that it isn't worth being here just to see you in armor. You know, I can see why Faith thought you were hot." [Oh my God, did I just say that?]

Giles stared down at their joined hands. "Yes, well..."

Buffy quickly changed the subject. "Where did you get it, anyway? Ye Olde Armor Shoppe?"

"It was given to me by Duke Edward. It was originally a gift for his son, but that young man is now dead, having been killed by the dragon. As my armor was supposedly stolen from us by bandits, along with all of our other possessions, the Duke bestowed this armor upon me out of gratitude." Giles' expression turned more serious. "Buffy, that is the story I have told the Duke; you and I were on a pilgrimage when bandits robbed us. If anyone asks you where we were going, say Canterbury--I think we're safe enough in saying that. Otherwise, don't talk about it. There must be no contradictions in our stories; we do not want to end up in a dungeon, or worse."

"Hey, it's not as if we asked to come here."

"I know, but--" His hand tightened slightly on hers, and his voice took on a tone of urgency. "You must understand, Buffy, that this is the Middle Ages--not the England of my day and certainly not the twenty-first century United States. People tend to be wary of outsiders, and to a certain extent that is understandable. Right now, the Duke is feeling well disposed toward us, but that could always change. He has near-absolute power over every person who lives in this castle, which at present includes us. For the moment we are dependent upon his goodwill. Please bear that in mind, all right?"

She smiled at him. "You're cute when you're intense, Watcher-mine."

He let his breath out in a sharp puff of exasperation. "Buffy--"

"Okay, okay, I get it. I'll be Politeness-Girl."

The door opened and the young girl whom Buffy had last seen trying to climb up a sheer cliff wall to escape a dragon entered the room. She was followed by two other girls, one carrying a tray of food, the other with a long gown draped over her arms. "God be in this place," the familiar girl said cheerily. "Sir Giles, how be our patient?"

"Lady Buffy is feeling much better, thank you." He looked at his Slayer. "Buffy, this is Lady Eleanor, our hostess and daughter of the Duke. She has been taking care of you while you were ill. Lady Eleanor, this is Lady Buffy."

"Uh, thanks," Buffy said, not that she felt like saying it. Oh, she understood that Giles was right and it was a good idea to do the gratitude bit, but she didn't like the way this Lady Eleanor was beaming at Giles. The girl reminded her of April, the robot that loser Warren had created to be his devoted slave. She was gazing at Giles with complete adoration. Not that Giles didn't look all macho in his new armor. The other two girls, who were apparently servants, placed the tray of food on Buffy's lap and a set of clothes at the foot of the bed, and then left the room without a word.

"Now, Sir Giles, thou must instruct our patient to eat her gruel," Lady Eleanor caroled. Buffy stared at her in disbelief and made no move to pick up the spoon.

"Buffy," Giles said quietly. "You must eat to get better. Please."

"I'm fine," Buffy said, feeling contrary. "I don't need this stuff."

"Is our patient being difficult, Sir Giles?" Lady Eleanor asked sweetly.

"Hey, lady, my name is Buffy," the Slayer snapped, "and I'm sitting right here!"

Giles gripped her hand, hard. "Lady Eleanor, perhaps if you would leave the two of us alone, I could encourage Lady Buffy to eat. When she is ill, she is not herself."

Buffy saw disappointment flash in the girl's eyes, but all she said was; "Very well, Sir Giles." To the Slayer's amazement, the girl actually *curtsied* to Giles, who did not notice as he was not looking at her, and left the room, closing the door behind her.

"Giles--" Buffy began angrily.

"Buffy." Her Watcher's tone was so unusually sharp that she subsided instantly, fighting an urge to flinch. "What did I just say?"

"Well, it's easy enough for you to get along with her." Buffy knew she sounded like a sulky brat, but she could not seem to stop herself. "She thinks you're a god. And what's with this 'Sir Giles' stuff? You get a knighthood along with that armor?"

"She believes I am a knight, Buffy, just as you are supposed to be a lady."

Buffy wondered if there was a double meaning in the last part of that sentence. [That was no lady, that was my Slayer.] "Fine. I may be just a dumb American, Giles, but even I know you should be 'Sir Rupert' instead of 'Sir Giles.'" [Like that's important. Why am I acting so snarky? None of this is Giles' fault.]

"St. Giles was a very popular saint in the Middle Ages, especially in England," he replied in his best lecture tone. "My surname is also a first name, and during the thirteenth century would have been a commonly-used one, due to the popularity of the saint. Since Eleanor heard you address me as 'Giles,' she assumed it was my Christian name, and as I am supposed to be a knight, I am called 'Sir Giles.'"

"I don't care what she calls you--she can just stay away from my Watcher!" Buffy burst out.

Dead silence followed her words. Buffy stared at the filled bowl on the tray in her lap. [Stupid gruel. Stupid Eleanor. Stupid *Buffy.* Yeah, that's real mature, Buff. Acting like a jealous airhead is really the way to convince your Watcher to stay with you. But what difference does it make? Every man leaves me, sooner or later...]

She felt a gentle hand lightly brush the hair back from her face, felt the hand cup her chin and lift it tenderly, so that she was compelled to meet her Watcher's gaze. Her eyes stung with unshed tears. The fact that Giles' expession was one of tender concern rather than anger somehow made it harder to keep from crying.

"Buffy," he said in that soft voice that had comforted her a million times since they first met. "You must eat to regain your strength. Gruel may not taste very good, but it is nutritious. Eat it, please. Not for Eleanor, but for me."

"Okay," she mumbled, picking up the spoon.

The smile he gave her was worth slaying a hundred vampires to see. "Good. That's my girl."

[Am I your girl, Giles? You'll still leave me eventually.] Buffy said nothing of her fears aloud, however; she just continued working her way through the unappetizing food on the the tray. Giles watched her without speaking.

After a few moments, he rose from the bed. "I must go now, Buffy, but I shall see you later."

"Giles, wait!" she said quickly. He paused on the way to the door. "Uh--how did we get here? You still haven't told me." She lifted another spoonful to her mouth, gazing at him inquiringly.

"That can wait a bit until you've rested." He smiled at her. "We'll talk again later, Buffy. Goodbye." Her mouth was full of the damn gruel, so he was gone before she could say a word to stop him, closing the door quietly but firmly behind him.

The Slayer put the utensil down with a clatter. [I've eaten enough of this yucky stuff. Rested? I've done nothing but rest since I got here!] Impatiently, she pushed the tray aside and then started to get out of bed, ready to go after him.

She paused, realizing she was wearing a linen shift, some bandages, and nothing else. [Probably not a good idea to go running around until I've got some clothes on.] She peeled back the bandages to reveal a poultice, making a face at the smell. [Eeuuw! Nasty.] The poultice and Slayer healing seemed to have done the trick, though. The skin where the dragon had spat venom upon her was smooth and uninjured, and her shoulder and arm moved easily.

Buffy stood up, pulled the shift off over her head, stripped off the bandages and the poultice, then picked up the gown and other garments that had been brought for her. [Not bad,] she thought, looking at the white silk dress. [Not very colorful, but it'll do.] She began to dress quickly, fumbling a little with the laces at the back of the gown.

[I'm going to find Giles. He's *my* Watcher, and no starry-eyed little girl is going to take him away from me--not unless she wants to find out what a Slayer can do.]

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