Title: "Her White Knight" (7/?)
Author: TheQueenly1
Pairing: Giles and Buffy!
Rating: NC-17. Yes, folks, we're into the naughty stuff now. There are also a few bad words, at least if you're British.

Disclaimer: Given in previous chapters. I'm sincere.

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, for which I am sure we are all grateful.

Notes: As I've said before, this story was written in response to Challenge # 4 here at ODD.

"Okay, I admit I may have been a little out of line there," Buffy said. "I guess calling that guard a pig when he told me what the two of us could do when I asked him how we were supposed to keep warm in here wasn't the smartest thing I could have done. But I didn't realize he was going to try to punch me out for saying it. I mean, I thought knights were supposed to be chivalous and all."

There was only silence from the man seated next to her on the straw- covered floor. Buffy sneaked a peek at her Watcher, trying to gauge his mood. He was staring straight ahead in the darkness, his back, like Buffy's, against the stone wall. Their chamber was small and a bit cramped, just wide enough for Giles to stretch out his long legs when he was in a seated position. It was clearly meant to hold only one person, but Giles had refused to be separated from Buffy. The only illumination was the light of the moon, which entered through a narrow window set in the outside wall. Even with a Slayer's night vision, Buffy could not tell for sure if her Watcher was hurting or not. He was too busy doing the stiff-upper-lip thing.

She sighed, thinking that if Giles was in pain, it was her fault. When the guards had opened the door and indicated the room that was to be their prison, Buffy had been unhappily surprised at how small, dark, and cramped it was. It was also a cool evening, and a chill already radiated from the stone of the chamber walls. There had been no offer of blankets; there was nothing to keep them warm other than the straw that covered the floor. When she had demanded to know how she and Giles were supposed to keep warm overnight, one of the knights snickered and answered her with a single four-letter word that, in Buffy's time, could not be said on television. Disgusted and angry, she called him a pig, and to her astonishment the guard's expression hardened and he stepped forward, fist drawn back, clearly intending to hit her. Giles, outraged, had punched the guy right in his dirty mouth--an especially painful lesson for the rude guy, since Giles was wearing a mailed gauntlet at the time. The other guards had jumped Giles, and only the fact that Sir Geoffrey had been there to break it up immediately had kept someone from getting badly hurt. As it was, Buffy was sure that her Watcher must have some dandy bruises to show for his exercise in gallantry. She wondered if his lack of speech since the guards had shoved the two of them in here and locked the door might be because he blamed her for the incident. Not that she expected him to be all zip-a-dee-doo-dah, but a little less Mr. Silent-Guy would be nice.

She tried again. "Giles, I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to start anything out there. Please don't be mad at me." She hated how much she sounded like a little kid, but his continuing silence frightened her. Giles was always there for her, supporting her when no one else would. He was so seldom truly angry at her that whenever he was, she perceived it as a threat to her very foundation. The thought of losing Giles' support always scared her as nothing else did.

"Hmmm?" Thanks to the moonlight, Buffy saw Giles turn his head to face her, and was even able to detect the expression of surprise on his face. "Buffy, what are you talking about? Why would I be mad at you?"

"For shooting off my big yap, so that you had to punch out Mr. Foul- Mouth."

Her Watcher's expression hardened. "He deserved it. You are certainly not responsible for his uncouth behavior."

"Yeah, but I'm responsible for our being here. In this cell, I mean. I'm the one they think is all witchy, or a freak or something." She took a deep breath. "Maybe they're right."

Giles frowned. "Explain that, please."

"Well, let's face it, Giles. Cordelia was right, that time she called me a 'freak of nature.' I'm not exactly Ms. Normal, even for Sunnydale--and this isn't Sunnydale."

"Buffy, you are the Slayer. Of course you are different from other women. It is nothing of which you should be ashamed."

She emitted an impatient sigh. "That's not what I mean--or at least, not exactly. I used to blame being the Slayer for all my problems, but now...well, I think the problem must be with me. Myself. There's something wrong with me. Maybe those knights just picked up on that."

"Buffy, you're not making any sense. What could possibly be wrong with you?"

"You tell me, Giles!" she cried, suddenly angry as well as frightened. "You're the one who was planning to leave. What's wrong with me, that even my Watcher doesn't want to stay with me?"

His voice was soft, but she could still hear the pain in it. "Oh, Buffy. Oh, my Slayer...if you only knew how much I want to stay."

"Then stay! Don't go!" she cried, covering her fear with anger, as she always did.

"I can't," he said quietly.

"You can. You have to." Grasping at straws, she said quickly; "What if Glory comes back?" In the darkness, she saw Giles go still. "That's right," Buffy added, willing to appeal to his sense of duty if that was what it took to make him stay. "I knocked her down for the count, but I don't think I killed her. If she ever came back, there's no way I could defeat her without you. I need you."

"Glory won't come back," Giles answered, his voice barely audible.

"How can you know that?"

"I know." Abruptly, he turned his face away, and she realized something was very wrong. "Buffy, just let it go, please."

"Hey," she said softly, suddenly facing a different kind of worry, her own fear of abandonment temporarily forgotten out of concern for him. She reached out and gently took hold of his jaw, turning him toward her so that she could see his troubled face in the moonlight. "What's wrong? And don't tell me 'nothing'--you're acting the same way you did when you thought Eyghon was after you. Giles, did you make some kind of a deal with Glory, to make sure she'd leave us alone?"

"No."

"Then what is it?" He was silent, and she felt her frustration rise. "Giles, I'm your Slayer. I have a right to know. Talk to me."

"I acted as your Watcher. That is all you need to know."

"Uhn-uh," Buffy answered in the negative. "Something is bothering you, and it's pretty bad. Even I can see that. So talk to me." When he did not immediately respond, she added; "Giles, it's just the two of us here, locked in a medieval dungeon, in a castle that's probably going to be taken over by vampires tomorrow night. If there's ever a time to get something off your chest, it's now."

To her surprise, her Watcher laughed--it sounded kind of strangled, but it was a laugh. "Oh, Buffy."

Her hand left his face to clasp one of his, holding it firmly. "Giles, I want to help. Tell me what's bothering you."

"When you..." He paused, clearing his throat. Obviously, whatever he had to say was not coming easily for him. Buffy waited, her attitude one of listening. "When you fought Glory...you were winning against her. You would have defeated her had she remained, and she knew it. So she...left. She retreated, and let Ben take over the body that she shared with him."

"I remember."

"You couldn't kill him. And that was quite right," he hastened to assure her. "The Slayer kills vampires, she does not kill humans. So you left him, and went to see to Dawn. You..." For a moment he paused, his breathing ragged as he struggled not to be overwhelmed by his emotions as he recalled that night. Buffy gave his hand a gentle, compassionate squeeze.

"I know, Giles."

"Ben was lying there," her Watcher said when he had himself back under some kind of control. "He was badly injured...helpless. I knew then what I had to do. There were only two ways we could be absolutely certain that Glory would never return. One was to destroy the Key--which meant destroying Dawn..."

"Not an option," Buffy interrupted.

"Quite. The other...w-was to end the life that connected Glory to this world." Giles took a deep breath. "I killed Ben."

Buffy gaped at him. "What do you mean, you killed Ben?" she asked stupidly.

"I mean that I covered his nose and mouth with my hand, and held it there until he died of suffocation," Giles said harshly. He shifted away from her, his profile rigid as he stared straight ahead in the darkness. "Are you satisfied, Buffy? I am a murderer."

For an instant, Buffy was speechless. She had *so* not expected this. Some small but intense voice at the back of her mind was warning her that if she mishandled this, she might lose Giles forever. She took a deep breath and gazed at him steadily, hoping he could see her expression in the darkness as well as she could see his. "You are Rupert Giles, the finest, most decent man I have ever known. Nothing you did will ever change that."

Giles' head turned fractionally, and his body shifted toward her ever so slightly. He did not speak, but she knew he was listening. More was needed. She went on; "You only did what you had to do. You protected Dawn. You saved all of us."

"But I couldn't save you," he said, with a loud gasp that sounded as if it were torn from him, and suddenly he was weeping--the terrible, wracking sobs of a strong man pushed beyond his endurance. "I loved you, but I couldn't save you..."

Acting instinctively, Buffy wrapped her arms around him, holding him as close as possible. Giles embraced her fiercely, burying his face in the curve of her shoulder and neck as he tried to muffle his long- pent-up sobs.

"M-My fault," he gasped, when he was finally able to speak again. "I sh-should have saved you. Buffy, I'm so sorry...I'm so sorry I failed you..."

Buffy shook her head and drew back from him slightly, just enough so that he could see her face. "No, Giles. The First Slayer told me that death was my gift, and that was true. It wasn't any kind of a failure on your part."

"Yes. Well," Giles said hoarsely. He closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose in a gesture Buffy recognized as an effort to hold back further tears. "Bloody stupid things, prophecies."

Buffy smiled a little.

"The worst part is my own selfishness." He stared into her eyes. With his face bare of glasses, his green eyes were especially intense. "I'm glad you're back. I'm so very glad you're alive."

"If that's true," Buffy heard the words aloud, as if someone other than herself were saying them, "then why did you tell Willow that you would have stopped her from performing the ritual to bring me back?"

Giles went still once again, although he did not move away from her. "You heard that? I'm sorry."

Buffy felt a burst of pain, followed by a flare of anger. "Sorry for what? That I'm not dead any more?"

"No! God, no, Buffy!" His hands cupped her face as he stared down into her eyes, willing her to believe him. "I'm sorry that Willow victimized you in her desire to increase her own magickal powers. I was sorry that you had been ripped from a world in which you were finally happy and at peace. I was so sorry that your rest was disturbed, and that you were forced to come back and take up your duties again. I could have told the others, if there had been any doubt, that you are a hero, and heroes go to heaven, not to hell. But the fact that you are here, alive again--about that, I am filled with a joy so intense that I--I cannot even articulate it. I know that is selfish, but that is how I feel."

As he had been speaking, Buffy's lips had begun to form a tremulous smile, and by the time he was finished, her lips curved sweetly upwards and her eyes were shining. "You really wanted me back?"

"Of course," Giles said, obviously bewildered that there could have been any doubt of that.

Buffy leaned forward, hugging him fiercely. Giles returned the embrace, placing a kiss on the crown of Buffy's blonde head, gently stroking her hair.

Then she pulled away, and she was regarding him with an expression that was both puzzled and angry. "Then we're back to the twenty-four thousand-dollar question; why do you want to leave me?"

Giles' green eyes darkened with sadness; even in the moonlight, Buffy could see it. "Because you don't want me, Buffy."

"How many times do we have to go over this? I need you! I can't do this without you!"

"You can. You don't truly need me, not in any way that matters. I can't stand--" He broke off abruptly, moving away from her once more, at least as much as their cramped surroundings allowed.

Buffy leaned forward, knowing she was very close to something important. "What, Giles? You can't stand what?" When he did not answer, she felt sorrow and shame bloom painfully inside her. "You can't stand me?" she breathed. "Is that it, but you're too much the gentleman to say so? I should have known. There's something wrong with me."

"No!" To her surprise, Giles turned swiftly toward her, seizing her upper arms and holding her firmly. "You must never say such a thing!"

"Then why won't you stay?" she screamed at him.

"Because you don't see me as a man!" he shouted back. "I am a *man,* Buffy! Not a 'textbook with arms.' Not just someone who is 'old and gross.' I am a foolish old man who fell in love with the bright, strong, beautiful young woman who is my Slayer, and you not only have no use for that, you're hardly even aware I'm alive!"

He released her, gasping as if he had run a marathon, turning his face away from her as if ashamed of his outpouring of emotion. "I can't bear it any more," he whispered, more as if he were talking to himself rather than to his Slayer. "I love you, but I just can't bear your indifference any longer."

Buffy reached for him, her small, strong hands touching his face, drawing it near to her own, lifting her lips to his. Her mouth claimed his, possessively but tenderly, not asking permission, but not being refused it, either. They tasted each other, and when at last they drew apart, both were breathing hard. Their gazes locked.

"Did that feel like indifference to you?" Buffy demanded.

"Buffy, what are you doing?"

"I thought that was pretty obvious, Watcher-mine."

"You..." For a moment, Giles started to lower his head to hers again, as if for another kiss, but he stopped, closing his eyes briefly, fighting for control. "Buffy, please. Don't do this."

"Don't do what? Show you how much I love you? Because I do, Giles. Love you, that is."

His eyes opened again. "And you just now reached this amazing conclusion? Buffy, you could have any man you want. Why would you want me?"

"Why?" she echoed, simultaneously amazed and amused. "Well, let's see, Giles. You're the three S's--strong, smart, and sexy. You know I'm the Slayer, and that doesn't scare you. You're always been there for me, guiding me, teaching me, protecting me, and respecting me-- even when I didn't deserve it. You're the only person I've ever been able to count on completely. You've always put me first, even before yourself. I've known for a long time you love me. I love you, too."

"Then why--?"

"Why didn't I say something before now? Because I wasn't sure how you loved me. I thought maybe you loved me like a father. That's what Quentin Travers said, at the time of my eighteenth birthday. If you saw me as a daughter, I sure as hell wasn't going to risk destroying our relationship by coming on to you, no matter what my own feelings might be, or how sexy I think you are. So I decided I better not think about it, and I looked for love elsewhere. Big surprise, I didn't find it--not with Angel, not with Parker, not with Riley."

"Buffy, you deserve so much better," her Watcher protested.

"Well, I deserve somebody better than a brooding vampire. Even I finally figured that out. Angel seemed so exotic and mysterious when I was sixteen. Then I hung on to him because he was my first love, plus I felt I owed him for sending him to hell, and also I believed that love conquers all. The old dead Roman guy who said that didn't know what he was talking about. But that wasn't the same as saying I deserved a man as wonderful as you. Giles, when I finally grew up and started to notice what a sexy man you are--which I did, plenty of times, although I stifled it as much as I could, not wanting to ruin things between us--you didn't seem interested in me. Not as a woman. Remember Olivia?"

"How could I forget?" he asked dryly, and Buffy winced.

"Okay, I know. I opened my mouth and inserted my foot, big-time. But Giles, I don't think you have any idea of how shocked I was."

"That someone as 'old and gross' as I was capable of having sex?"

"No!" Buffy shouted. "That my Watcher didn't want me around any more!"

"Buffy--" Giles began, startled, but she cut him off.

"I remember that like it was yesterday, Giles. I went to your apartment--the only place, once the library was gone, where I always felt safe, always felt welcome--and there was this strange woman sashaying around as if she owned the place, wearing one of your shirts and nothing else, calling you 'Ripper' as if it were her own special pet name for you--in short, marking her territory and making damn sure I knew it. You were in full Hugh Hefner mode, wearing only a bathrobe--God, Giles, I didn't even know where to put my eyes! And you as good as told me to grow up, get lost, and stop bothering you with my problems--"

"Buffy, I never meant any such thing!" he protested.

"I know, Giles," she said, a little more calmly. "At least, I know that now. But do you realize that was trauma-time for me? That pretty much put paid to any notions I had about getting sexually involved with you. If you had a girlfriend, especially one nearer your own age, sexier and more sophisticated than I was, you weren't going to be interested in me. Especially since it was like you were saying; 'Grow up, little girl, and stop expecting so much from me--I don't have time for you.'"

Her Watcher opened his mouth again, and Buffy hastened to add; "Giles, I understand now that isn't what you meant. I'm just telling you how things seemed to me at the time. So, because I was shocked and hurt, I blurted out that 'old and gross' crack. I couldn't say what I was really thinking, which was; "I love you, I need you, and I want to be the one wearing your shirt!"

Giles reached out, took her hands in his, and gave them a gentle squeeze, his expression compassionate and concerned. Buffy took a deep breath and continued.

"So it seemed to me there was no way on earth I could ever have you the way I wanted. But I was willing to play the daughter role if it meant I could still be around you sometimes. Having you there under those terms was still better than not having you in my life at all. I went looking for love elsewhere, as you know. I became a notch on Parker's bedpost, although it was a long time before I wanted to admit, even to myself, that I'd been so dumb."

"You were never dumb, Buffy," her Watcher said harshly. "That Parker fellow was a pillock."

She gave him a faint smile. "I'm not sure exactly what that is, but it sounds bad, and he was. The morning after, when I went back to the dorm to find you there, I was already scared and embarrassed--Buffy had ruined it with another guy, or so I thought--and I hadn't expected to see you there. So I told you it was none of your business, treating you the way I felt you treated me when I went to see you and Olivia was there."

She took a deep, shuddering breath. Giles slipped a concerned arm around her, drawing her closer to him. She rested her head against his shoulder as she continued. "Then I became involved with Riley-- mostly at his insistence, although he was pretty nice to me most of the time, and it felt good to have a boyfriend in my life. I didn't tell you much about that. It seemed to me that you'd told me you didn't want me bothering you so much, so I tried not to make a nuisance of myself. When Willow told me you were feeling out-of-the- loop-y, I was surprised. I thought I'd been doing what you wanted. But I didn't want you to feel bad, or think I didn't want to be around you, so I tried making it up to you." Her voice trembled on the last words, and she began to cry. "I really did try, Giles," she sobbed. "I thought maybe if I worked hard for you and was the best Slayer I could be, I would make you proud, and that would make you happy to be around me..."

"Buffy, dearest. Hush," her Watcher said softly. He stroked her upper arm gently and soothingly with one hand, while with the other he used his fingers tenderly to wipe away her tears. "I understand. You don't have to justify yourself. I was honored when you asked me to be your Watcher again."

"But you don't understand--it wasn't like that," she cried. "I never really stopped thinking of you as my Watcher, Giles. When I said that, what I had in mind was more like a renewal of wedding vows. You know, a bond that already existed between us, but asking you about it was like a reminder, to draw us closer together again. Besides, I really did need your help, and I wanted to be able to see you every day, the way I used to." She gulped and sniffed back the last of her tears. "That way I could see you when I needed to, and maybe you wouldn't tell me to go away again."

"Oh, Buffy," he said quietly, with pain. "I never wanted you to go away from me. I'm so very sorry I gave you that impression. There is no one more dear to me than you."

She shifted slightly in his arms so that she could look directly up at him, her face still wet from weeping. "Really?"

"Really," he answered with a tender smile.

"Then why..." she let it trail off, looking downcast.

"Why what?" he prompted gently.

"When I died," she said softly, not seeming to notice his flinch, "and came back, the only person I really wanted to see was you. Even Dawn didn't mean that much to me. I was kind of in shock, still feeling dead. The only real emotion I felt was when I saw you come in and set down those suitcases. Giles was here, so everything was going to be okay."

She lifted her head to gaze up into his concerned face. "You hugged me, and said you'd always thought I was a miracle. But then later, I overheard you telling Willow that if you'd been here, you would have stopped her from bringing me back--"

"Buffy--"

"I understand now, why you said that. But since then, all you've done is train me, work with me on Slayer stuff. Giles...I want more. Do you...want more?" She spoke tremulously, as if she hardly dared to ask. "From me? Or is your interest in me just as Watcher to my Slayer? Giles...could you ever love someone as screwed-up as I am?"

The fear and pain in her voice, her belief that she was unworthy, smote him to her heart. "Oh, Buffy," he began softly. "How can you say such a thing?"

"I'm sorry," she mumbled, misunderstanding his words. "I asked for too much, I know. It's okay, Giles. When we get out of here, I'll go back to doing my sacred duty, if you'll just stay with me. I shouldn't have asked for anything more. I'm too needy. I drive men away--"

"Sshh, love," he said gently. He drew back from her slightly, just enough to take her by the shoulders and run his hands lightly, comfortingly, over her upper arms. "Don't say such things, my dearest one. Buffy, don't you know how beautiful you are? How special you are to me? There is no one in this world who I love more than you."

Buffy's head slowly lifted, but he could tell from the combination of hope and dread in her expression that she did not completely believe him. Her need and desire were so great that, out of a terror of being disappointed, she dared not allow herself to believe him fully. Deciding this was a time for action rather than words, Giles gently brushed her hair back from her face, leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on her forehead. Then he did the same to her nose, followed by her mouth, moving his lips all over her face, placing soft, tender kisses on each inch of her visage until he felt her smile.

"That's right," he whispered. "I love you, Buffy, my dearest, sweetest girl."

She lifted her arms to embrace him and he shifted, drawing her closer. He moved his lips down over her jaw line and down her neck, following the curve of her shoulder. He heard a soft sigh from Buffy and felt her begin to relax. He smiled.

He felt Buffy's hands in his hair, drawing his head down as close to her as possible. Giles was now using his tongue as well as his lips in his devotion of her, and he heard her breath quicken as he worked his way down her neck and to the soft swell of her breasts. He found her right nipple hardening beneath the silk of her bodice and teased it completely erect with his teeth and tongue, favoring the other with the same ministrations a moment later. He was pleased when he heard her gasp in response, feeling her hands stroke his hair lovingly, then move in tender strokes down his shoulders and back.

Giles felt himself getting aroused, and then suddenly ceased his oral attentions, lifting his face from Buffy's breast. "Bloody hell," he muttered.

"What?" Buffy asked. Her eyes were wide and dark, her skin warm and flushed with arousal. "What's wrong, Giles?"

He heard the uncertainty in her voice and inwardly cursed himself; he had not meant to revive Buffy's emotional vulnerability. "Buffy, I am deeply, passionately in love with you, and learning that you feel the same way fills me with the most incredible joy. But...I don't want to start anything that is only going to frustrate us both."

She was breathing hard, her gaze already frustrated and worried. "Giles, what are you talking about?"

He made a gesture at himself. "This--this sodding armor! In order to make love to you as I wish to, I shall certainly have to remove it, and in these bloody cramped quarters, I can't!"

"You're kidding." To his surprise, Buffy giggled, slightly hysterically. "This must be the medieval version of safe sex--chain mail!"

He smiled a little. "Actually, they did have condoms, made of sheep bladders."

She giggled again, louder. "Oh, thanks for the information, Watcher- mine. But we'll have to do something, because I do want to make love, Giles. Now. Tonight."

As gently as possible, he pushed her body away from his. "I know, Buffy. I do, as well. But even without the, er, barrier..." Buffy laughed harder, and he gave her a look of amused exasperation as he continued. "You deserve better. You deserve courtship, and flowers. You deserve a comfortable bed, with candles to light our first lovemaking--not a bed of straw on the floor of a dark cell in a dungeon."

She took his face between her hands, looking him directly in the eyes. "I'm not sure about what I deserve, Giles, but I know what I want. I want you, my Watcher, the man I love, to make love with me tonight, because for all we know, this may be our last night alive, and we've already waited too long." Her hands left his face and began moving over his body. "So, how do we get this damn mail off?"

"Buffy..."

"Giles, a horny Slayer is a determined Slayer." She heard his snort of laughter, and grinned. In spite of everything, she felt strangely happy. She was in love with her Watcher, who by some miracle was also in love with her. Did anything else really matter? "We'll find a way. Lift your hips a little--that's right--are these knots here?"

"Yes," Giles answered, doing as instructed. "Here, perhaps if I stand up, and you give me a hand removing all this..."

Shuffling together, they managed it, a piece at a time. Buffy was more interested in removing the mail below the waist, but her Watcher managed to convince her to take off a piece at a time, starting with the shield shoulder pieces, then moving on to the chain mail itself. The guards had taken Giles' sword, scabbard, and steel gauntlets, so at least they were not there to be hindrances. It took a little time, with some fumbling on both their parts as they were working in semi- darkness, but together they managed to remove the upper part of the suit of chain mail, then the tunic beneath it, then the chain-mail leggings, followed by a leather belt, leggings, boots, and most of all, the codpiece.

"Are you *sure* this wasn't part of some medieval plan of contraception?" Buffy mutterd when they finally untied the last knots and removed the final article of his clothing. "By the time these people get undressed, they probably don't have enough energy to do anything."

"Even knights do not customarily wear armor all the time, Buffy," Giles reminded her. His hands sought her out, running gently over her silk-clad body. "And you seem to be a little overdressed."

"Not by much--I'm not wearing any underwear." In response to his inquiring look, she added defensively; "Well, I wasn't going to wear that thing Lady Eleanor and her girls brought, and the skirt on this gown covers me down to my ankles, anyway." She turned her back to him. "Here, unlace me, would you?"

"With pleasure," Giles said sincerely.

Buffy shivered deliciously as her Watcher, working as swiftly as possible while still using great care, unlaced the back of her gown to free her from the garment. It really was not all that complicated a task--she had, after all, managed to lace it up herself earlier that day--but the sensation of being unwrapped like a Christmas present, and a long-awaited one at that, heightened her anticipation. Soon, Giles finished the last of the laces, and she turned back to face him.

Reaching out, Giles placed his hands on her shoulders and slid the dress down from her shoulders, off her arms, and down to her waist, baring her breasts. He gazed at them with as much reverence as lust. Buffy slipped the rest of the gown down over her hips herself, letting it fall into white folds at her feet. She stepped out of the garment and out of her shoes, and using her feet, pushed the unneeded clothing aside.

There was an almost Ripperish look in Giles' eyes, a look of such intense arousal that Buffy was almost afraid. But his hands, as he ran them over her body, were as tender as they were possessive, and Giles moved even closer to her, going down on one knee before her, a nude swain waiting to be knighted.

Buffy's hands went to his head, gently stroking his hair. Giles slipped his arms around her waist, kissing first between her breasts, then down over her belly, his tongue darting briefly into her navel, just enough to make her gasp, before continuing on down over her abdomen. He paused at her pubic hair, lightly brushing his nose and lips against the soft, springy curls, inhaling her rich, sweet scent. Buffy drew her breath in sharply while at the same time she reached out and grasped his shoulders, pulling him closer to encourage him.

Giles needed no encouragement, having waited for this for so long. Using his fingers first, he tenderly parted Buffy's outer lips and gently explored the opening to her body. She let out a soft cry of "Oh!" when he found her clitoris.

"Like that, Giles," she gasped as his fingers stroked gently, her legs moving wider apart to give him better access. "Just like that--"

"I live to serve my Slayer," he said, completely seriously, his face almost shining with devotion as he lifted his visage to her.

"I love you, Giles," she told him, tears starting in her eyes. "I want to touch you, too."

"You will," he promised, already so aroused that he was almost completly hard. "Just let me have this pleasure, first--"

Before she could react, he pulled his fingers free and pressed his face to her pubis, thrusting his tongue inside, tasting and stroking her clitoris so that she shouted: "GILES!" Her hands dug into his shoulders. "Not so fast," she gasped, barely able to keep control. "Lie down. On your back. Now."

He did so, his erection upright and straining, clearly visible in the moonlight. Buffy spread her legs to straddle him, lowering herself so that she knelt atop him, using her hands on either side of him for balance, bending over him so that her firm breasts brushed over the hair on his chest.

"Is this what you like?" she panted, eyes shining at him in the dark. "Do you like making love with your Slayer, Watcher-mine?"

In answer Giles started to seize her hips, but Buffy grasped his wrists, firmly but gently, sitting back a little on her haunches for balance as she forced his hands down to his sides. Giles was not offended--Buffy could never be anything other than dominant, and such was the nature of Watcher-Slayer relationships anyway--but he thrust upward helplessly, unable to keep still, trying to communicate his desire.

"I want you," he told her, his voice deep with arousal and edged with need. "I love you. Buffy, please--"

She gave him a dazzling smile, released his wrists, and positioned herself directly over his erection. Her hands found his penis, giving it a gentle but firm squeeze to keep him from ejaculating too soon, and then she released him to lower herself atop him, both of them inhaling sharply as he was sheathed in her. For an instant, both were still, and then Buffy leaned forward slightly, wrapping her legs even more firmly about him and Giles thrust upwards, and she responded by beginning to ride him.

"I love you, Buffy--oh, Buffy--BUFFY!"

"Giles--oh my God--GILES!"

They climaxed together. Buffy half-fell atop him, gasping, tears of joy wetting her face. She felt his chest hair beneath her cheek, heard the pounding of his heart, felt his chest rise and fall rapidly as he, too, panted for air.

After a long moment, his hands rose to stroke her hair. Then he cupped her head between his hands, lifting it gently so that he could see her face, tenderly wiping away the last of her tears with his thumbs.

"I love you," he said, adding gently; "Are you quite all right, dearest?"

"Giles," Buffy said, laughing, "I have never been more all right in my whole life."

They lay together for awhile, both reluctant to end the physical closeness they shared. Buffy cuddled close to Giles, while he tenderly stroked her body. After some time they drew apart, cleaning themselves as best they could with some of the straw, which they dropped down a lavatory hole built into one corner of the small chamber. At Giles' insistence, they got dressed again. Buffy was reluctant to do so. She would have much preferred continuing to lie in her Watcher's arms in drowsy contentment, and certainly she preferred the skin-to-skin contact of lying nude; but Giles pointed out that they did not know when the guards or someone should return and open the door, and it would be best to be clothed when that happened. So Buffy resumed wearing the gown, and Giles, with a little help from his Slayer, put all of his clothing back on, including the armor.

They lay quietly in each others' arms. Neither of them spoke, their emotions too full for words. After awhile, they both fell asleep.

An unknown length of time later, Buffy awoke to the sound of solitary footsteps coming down the hall. She felt Giles become alert, and knew that he had heard it too. It still seemed to be dark; Buffy had no idea what time it was. As swiftly and soundlessly as possible, they both stood up. The footsteps halted in front of the door of their cell, and they heard a key being inserted into the lock. After a moment, the door of their chamber opened, and a dark silhouette stood outlined in the doorway, light from the fire of torches in brackets in the hallway not throwing enough light to identify who it was.

"I didn't call room service, did you, Giles?" Buffy said.

It was Sir Geoffrey. As he stepped closer, Buffy saw that his face was set in that fanatic's mask that she had seen on him once before. "Come with me," he said, in a tone that indicated this was an order, not open to discussion. "We must go to save my Slayer."

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