Today was Cassandra Cillian's birthday, and she was in the south of France celebrating it in a grand style with Jenkins. He surprised her with the announcement the first thing in the morning, promising her a special picnic supper in a very romantic setting. She was confused, then, when he came to her that afternoon in the reading room and asked if she was ready to go.

"But you said we were having dinner; it's only just past lunchtime!"

The Caretaker smiled mysteriously. "But it's late afternoon right now where we are going, my dear."

She jumped up from her chair and excitedly followed the tall man back to the workroom. Waiting for them in front of the back door was a very large wicker hamper and a smaller rectangular case of battered, age-darkened leather.

"If you would be so kind as to take this smaller one, my dear," he asked as he handed her the scuffed case. "I've already gone ahead and made the other preparations. I hope you like them." He picked up the large hamper, grunting softly at the weight of it. Cassandra was dying to find out what he had in store for her.

Jenkins activated the door and took the young woman's hand in his, and together they stepped through the portal.

Within moments they stepped out the other side and into a small copse of trees. In a clear space of the copse, Jenkins had set up a small pavilion-like tent. The ground was spread with soft, thick blankets, large cushions for sitting and a small, low table was already set with dishes, glassware, and a large, ornate silver candelabra. She didn't miss the low bed placed discreetly off to the side.

Looking around, Cassandra gasped. The copse was surrounded on all sides by fields of lavender, their scent heavy in the late afternoon air. "Oh, Jenkins! It's beautiful!" she breathed. As she continued to take in the scenery, Jenkins smiled proudly to himself as he hauled the hamper over to the table and began unpacking it.

"I've never seen so much lavender in my life!" she chirped with excitement. "Where are we?"

"The south of France, my dear," he announced. "Provence. Not far from Avignon, actually."

The pretty redhead came to stand next to him as he continued his preparations. Her blue eyes widened at the sight of so much food and wine. "Are we going to eat ALL that?"

"This is not your typical North American feed trough," the older man said contemptuously. "This is a proper, European-style supper, my dear. Multiple courses, enjoyed without haste, accompanied by a good wine and, hopefully, even better conversation." He stood up, turned to Cassandra and gave her a quick peck on her high, smooth forehead. "Shall we begin, my dear?"

They spent the next few hours enjoying an unhurried gourmet meal of pates, soup, capon, fish, asparagus, mixed greens, fruits, cheeses, nuts, chocolate-hazelnut mousse, with a different wine for each course. They talked for hours about everything. Before dessert they took a stroll along one of the fields of aromatic lavender. As they walked along, Jenkins periodically bent and picked flowers of various kinds, plus a handful of lavender. Cassandra thought he was gathering a bouquet for her, but when they returned to the pavilion, he suddenly turned his back to her, telling her to stay put. She watched curiously as he sat cross-legged, hunched over the flowers, his arms moving about. After a few minutes he stood up and turned to face her again. With a flourish and a bow, he presented her with a beautiful crown of lavender and wildflowers. Cassandra squealed with delight, barely able to keep still long enough to allow him to place it on her head. He stood back to admire her, enchanted; with that diaphanous dress fluttering gently in the breeze and her flaming hair, she looked as though she had just stepped from the realm of the fae.

They watched the sun set over the brilliant purple fields in the west as they had dessert. Jenkins lit the candles in the candelabra and then poured them both glasses of champaign. The knight lavished attention on Cassandra, and she felt like a spoiled, pampered princess.

She was feeling a little giddy and sleepy from all of the wine and rich delicacies. She lay down on the blanket, her head in Jenkins's lap. He read to her from a book of poetry, his deep voice soothing and hypnotic. As she lay there looking up at him, she was suddenly overcome with the desire to kiss him. She quickly sat up, plucked the book from the surprised immortal's hand and tossed it aside. Placing his face between her hands, she pulled him forward and kissed his mouth, softly at first, then harder, with more passion. Jenkins immediately responded, winding his long arms around her and pulling her close.

Soon his fingers were fumbling with the buttons of her thin dress. She helped him undo them and he quickly pulled it down and off of her and tossed it away. He set to work on her bra as she pulled out his bow tie, unbuttoned and peeled his shirt off. He eagerly began to kiss her breasts while she loosened and tugged off his trousers. She began to remove the circlet of flowers, but he stopped her. He liked how they made her look ethereal, magical.

As soon as she was completely naked, Jenkins gently pushed Cassandra onto her back against the pile of large pillows so that she was in a half-sitting position. Beginning with her mouth, he hungrily kissed his way slowly down her body. He stopped at each breast, leisurely kissing and sucking one nipple while his nimble fingers rolled and pinched the other, eliciting sighs and moans from his Librarian as she arched her back.

He moved on, kissing and licking and nipping his way down her belly. When he reached the soft, russet hair of her delta, he didn't hesitate for a second. He positioned himself between her legs and placed his mouth on the lips of her sex, kissing her, plunging his tongue deeply and slowly into her, her intoxicating liquor tasting of honey and apricot. Cassandra gasped and cried out, her hands flying of their own accord to his head. She threaded her fingers tightly into his thick, white hair, and clutched him tightly. Her reaction delighted him, and he laughed softly as he redoubled his efforts. He loved to give his beloved Librarian pleasure, oftentimes even more than receiving it from her. Her cries, moans and sighs were like a drug that he could never get enough of.

He located her swollen clit; very carefully, so as not to hurt her, he began to suck on it. Cassandra's hips left the ground as she wailed his name, overcome with bliss. Wildly she tried to pull him even deeper into her, pulling his hair so hard it hurt. Pleased with his handiwork so far, the Caretaker continued to gently suck and nibble on her delicate bud as he slipped two long fingers into her hot, wet center and stroked her from inside. The Librarian moaned loudly, practically sobbing with happiness, and bucked her hips against him hard. He could feel her orgasm building.

He had been so focused on Cassandra that he almost forgot his own mounting arousal. He released Cassandra and extricated himself from her clutching fists. She lay against the pillows, panting, as he got to his knees. He waited until she was looking at him, then he grasped his hard member and began to stroke himself, slowly, tantalizingly. Cassandra's eyes were dark and feverish with desire as she watched his hand sliding along his thick, long shaft. She slid one of her hands between her legs and began to rub herself, teasing him in return. His dark eyes shone with want, and his soft grunts and groans were soon too much for her to bear.

"Galahad," she said huskily, and held her arms out to him. "Come to me, sweetheart."

Jenkins happily obeyed. He first pulled her up, and as he kissed her he fell backwards onto the ground, with Cassandra on top of him. She took the hint, guided his hard cock to her entrance, and sank slowly onto him. He sucked in air through gritted teeth and closed his eyes, losing himself in the exquisite sensation. He slowly ran his hands over the skin of her smooth, soft body. He had spent so many centuries without physical contact with others that he had grown used to it, but since beginning his relationship with Cassandra, he discovered how touch-starved he was. He craved it now, in fact, and he took every opportunity he could to make physical contact with her, even if it was just brushing his hand over hers. Sex with her was a smorgasbord of sensations—touch, sounds, tastes, smells, sights—and he gorged himself on them all.

Cassandra rode him slowly, running her hands along his scarred arms and raking her pale pink-painted nails down his chest and stomach. He groaned loudly with pleasure and opened his eyes, fixing them on her lovely, perfect breasts as they jiggled temptingly each time she landed on him. Jenkins placed his hands on them and squeezed gently, drawing am almost purring sound from deep in the Librarian's throat. She put her arms behind her head, giving him clear access to them, and stretched, arching her back and pressing her chest into his greedy hands. He squeezed her tits again and then began lightly rubbing his palms against them, teasing the nipples into hard points.

The bewitching redhead stopped moving on him and leaned forward so he could reach the enticing nipples with his mouth. He seized her shoulders and pulled her closer, ravenously kissing and devouring her hard pink nipples. She gasped and moaned his name again and again. After several moments, she pulled his face away so she could look into his dark, hungry eyes.

"I want you to take me. Now!"

Without a word, Jenkins sat up and pushed her over and back onto the pillows, somehow managing to keep his manhood inside of her. He spread her legs with his knees and immediately began to rhythmically pump her, slowly at first, relishing the feel of her around him as he slid in and out. Cassandra positioned her legs so that her heels were over his buttocks. She sharply kicked him with her heels, 'spurring' him. Surprised, Jenkins paused.

"Harder!" she commanded breathlessly.

A predatory look came into his eyes and a half-smile came to his lips. He resumed thrusting, ramming into her as deeply as he could with each stroke. He reached out one hand and began to fondle one of her breasts, squeezing it each time he rammed his manhood into her. Cassandra rocked as her lover rode her hard, her groans and panting mingling with his own. Cassandra snaked one hand down between them and began to rub her clit. If she timed it right...

The young woman whimpered, feeling her climax coming. Jenkins felt it, too, and it sent him into a frenzied rut. He straightened up and grasped her hips with both hands, and concentrated solely on bringing them to an orgasm. Within a few seconds he felt her begin to pulse around his member. He gritted his teeth and threw his head back, grunting loudly as he continued to pound her as hard as he could; he was only a second or two behind her. Cassandra suddenly arched her back sharply and shouted as her release came. The sensation of her warm, wet sex grasping him over and over pushed him over the edge. His orgasm struck him like a lightning bolt, and he practically howled in relief.

He stopped thrusting, but didn't withdraw himself right away. He loved being inside of his Librarian, being joined to her so intimately, loved the feel of her around him, and he prolonged it as much as possible. He bent forward and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulled her into him tightly as he rolled them both over onto their sides. Once down, he pulled another blanket over them as he hugged her body closely to himself, the flowers of her crown tickling his face. They lay together quietly for several long minutes as they each reveled in their post-coital highs.

When she was recovered, Cassandra put her arms over her head, luxuriously stretched the entire length of her body against Jenkins. Now flaccid, he slipped out of her, much to his sadness. Sighing, he tightened his arms around the slim, soft, naked body in front of him and nuzzled his face into her neck. Her scent, mixed with that of the lavender, made him pleasantly dizzy. He softly kissed her cheek.

"Joyeux Anniversaire, mon amour," he murmured into her ear.

She snuggled against his chest. "Merci," she replied, sighing happily. "That was some birthday present!"

The older man chuckled. "Actually, that wasn't the gift I had in mind for you. I was planning to save the sex for later, but you had me so bewitched and bothered already—you and that very filmy, very fetching little dress of yours—as soon as you kissed me it was like waving a red flag in front of a bull."

Cassandra giggled and saucily wiggled her hips against him. The Caretaker groaned in mock horror.

"Stop that, you wretched woman! Let these poor old bones rest for a bit before you start in with your wanton wigglings, again!"

"You're just as much to blame as I am," she cheekily countered. "You bring me to France for a wonderful picnic, sitting over there across the table from me, being all handsome and gallant and Jenkins-y! How can you expect a girl to keep her hands off of you?"

"May the gods bless you for that, my love!" laughed the ancient immortal.

Cassandra wriggled against him again, this time leaning away enough so she could see his face.

"You said you had another a present for me?" she prompted eagerly.

Jenkins made a disapproving sound. "Wanton AND greedy. Shameful."

"It's my birthday, I'm allowed to be as wanton as I want today! So what's my other present?" she persisted excitedly.

"Well, um, you see..." he began, suddenly reticent, even bashful. Cassandra pulled herself out of his arms and sat up.

"What is it? Come on, Jenkins, don't tease!" she pleaded. When she saw him longingly eyeing her naked breasts, she quickly covered herself with a corner of the blanket.

"NOW who's being wanton?" she chided. "What's my present?"

"I...I was going to sing you a song," he said.

"What?" she breathed, surprised. "Really? A song? Oh, Jenkins...!" Her hand flew to her mouth, and she blinked back tears. "Oh, Jenkins! That's so sweet! No one's ever done that for me before!"

Encouraged, he smiled. "Would you really like to hear it?"

"Of course I would!"

The tall man quickly located his trousers and shirt in dimming evening light and slipped them on. He then pulled the leather case to himself and opened it, removing a small guitar-like instrument. He carried the instrument over to where Cassandra was sitting and folded his long legs beneath him as he sat cross-legged, settling the instrument in his lap.

"What is that?" she asked, pointing to the instrument.

"It's a lute," he replied as he adjusted the strings.

"A lute?" she repeated, confused. "Like, what medieval people used to play?"

"Miss Cillian," he said disapprovingly. "Lutes are thousands of years old. And people still play them to this day."

"You mean people other than you, right?"

"Hush, woman!"

"What are you going to sing?" she asked, snickering. "Did you write it and everything?"

"Alas, no," he admitted. "I'm not very good at arranging music or writing lyrics. This is a song that was written many years ago. I heard it again recently, and I immediately thought of you."

He paused, mentally preparing himself. He took a deep breath as he shyly glanced at Cassandra, then began to play. It was a gentle tune with a melancholy tone to it. As he plucked out the notes of the introduction, Cassandra thought she recognized the tune, but she couldn't quite place it.

Jenkins began to sing. He didn't have a strong voice, it was a bit thin and reedy, but he was expressive and pleasant to listen to. Then she heard the words he was singing:

Whenever I'm alone with you

You make me feel like I'm home again,

Whenever I'm alone with you

You make me feel like I am whole again.

Whenever I'm alone with you

You make me feel like I am young again,

Whenever I'm alone with you

You make me feel like I am fun again.

However far away, I will always love you;

However long I stay, I will always love you;

Whatever words I say, I will always love you;

I will always love you!

Whenever I'm alone with you

You make me feel like I am free again,

Whenever I'm alone with you

You make me feel like I am clean again.

However far away, I will always love you;

However long I stay, I will always love you;

Whatever words I say, I will always love you;

I will always love you!

The song finished, he stopped playing and cast a quick glance to gage Cassandra's reaction. Seeing her only staring at him, her hand covering her mouth, he quickly dropped his gaze. Suddenly feeling very foolish, he began nervously plucking the lute's strings, idly playing bits of tunes as he tried to hide his embarrassment. Jenkins, you idiot, he scolded himself. This is the 21st century, not the 12th—Women these days do not find lute-playing to be even remotely seductive!

"Is that how you really feel, Jenkins? About me?" she asked softly.

He kept his eyes on the strings of the lute. "It is," he timidly murmured. "You've...you've changed my life, Cassandra. I know it sounds trite, but it's true. You've made my life so much better, made...me better."

They were silent for several seconds, the only sounds coming from the lute and emerging nighttime insects. Suddenly Jenkins heard a loud sniffle, and looking up he was dismayed to see her cheeks glistening with tears in the candlelight. He put the lute aside and went to her, taking her in his arms.

"Cassandra! What's wrong, my dear?" he asked, concern filling his voice.

She pulled the blanket closer, self-consciously trying to cover her nakedness. She looked up into his worried eyes.

"Do I really mean that much to you?" she whispered.

He pulled away from her and took her face in his hands. Confused, he stared into her blue eyes, watery with gathering tears.

"Of course you are!" he said ardently. "Cassandra, you mean the world to me. I love you, with my whole heart—I would die for you!"

The Librarian laughed nervously and lowered her head. "That's not much of a declaration, coming from an immortal and all."

Her teasing broke the tension, and he chortled at the joke. "Nonetheless, I would die for you if I could, that's how much I love you." He softly kissed both of her tear-stained cheeks.

"I'm not used to being so important to anyone," she said. She waved a hand around them, indicating the tent, the fields. "I've never had anyone do things like this for me before. Not even my parents. I guess part of me is afraid to believe that you really do love me so much, in case it turns out not to be true." She gave a small shrug of her shoulders and a self-deprecating smirk.

The knight sat down next to her and put his long arms around her and pulled her close. Her bare back resting against his chest, he nuzzled her neck, kissed her.

"I truly love you, Cassandra," he said softly, sadly into her ear. "I love you so much, it sometimes takes my breath away. But only you can give yourself permission to believe me." He hugged her tightly for a few seconds, then released her. "Come to bed, my love."

He stripped off his shirt and trousers and then they both settled in next to each other beneath the covers of the bed. Cassandra removed her crown of flowers, setting it carefully aside, and rested her head on his shoulder as he wrapped his arm around her. She stroked his chest for a few minutes, listening to his heart beat.

"Jenkins, would you sing that song for me again, please? You don't need the lute, just your voice is fine."

He began singing for her, softly, his voice low and forlorn this time, full of longing and want. It nearly broke her heart.

"You sound so sad this time," she said quietly. Jenkins gave a small sigh.

"Ah, well, that's because I'm sad now," he said. "You've questioned the sincerity of my love for you, and that's a terrible thing for a knight—to have his lady question his love." He heaved another sigh, deeper this time.

"I suppose I must do something to prove my love. It will have to be something big. Flashy. Dangerous. Young ladies used to be very impressed by dragon slaying. Shall I slay a dragon for you, my dear? I know of a particularly large and nasty-tempered brute, not too far from the Annex. Though I'm afraid I'm rather out of practice when it comes to dragon slaying. I'll probably end up having most of my extremities burned off, though I expect that at least some of them will recover and grow back...eventually."

Cassandra, realizing that the immortal was teasing her, laughed and slapped his chest lightly. "You're awful!"

Smiling, he tightened his arm around her. "It's true, my dear; I'm awfully in love with you."

"I love you, too, Galahad," she murmured.

"I know you do, my dear. I think your problem is more that you don't think you deserve my love. But you do, just as I deserve yours. We just have to keep reminding ourselves of that."

Cassandra snuggled closer to him. "Sing to me again," she sighed. Jenkins obliged, singing softly, the tone lighter, more joyful. The Librarian drifted off to sleep, smiling contentedly.

#######

Cassandra blinked awake early the next morning. The first thing she saw was a small bird that she didn't recognize on the ground next to her. It cocked its head, eyeing in the pair of lovers curiously, then lifted its head and let loose a loud, cheerful song. The redhead wondered sleepily how such a big song could come from such a tiny body, then smiled at the little bird. Behind her, she could hear Jenkins snoring lightly as he slept through the impromptu concert.

She gently extricated herself from Jenkins's arms and slipped out of bed. Grabbing an extra napkin, she quietly left the pavilion to find a place to relieve herself. She hurried back to the pavilion and began preparing a plate with leftover cheeses, nuts, fruit and bread. While she was working, Jenkins awoke.

"Cassandra?" he called drowsily.

"Right here, sweetheart," she called back. He got out of bed and padded over to where the naked woman was arranging food on a plate. As he peered over her shoulder she slapped his leg. "Hey! I can't surprise you with breakfast in bed if you're not actually IN bed!"

"My apologies, my dear, but I'm afraid nature calls!" When he returned he rushed back to the warmth of their bed in the cool morning air. Cassandra brought the plate of food over and sat next to him on the blankets. She smeared a thick layer of brie onto a piece of bread and handed it to him, while she took a large slice of peach for herself. As he munched on the bread, the Caretaker heard a low humming coming from his companion. He glanced over at the pretty young woman, and did a double-take as he realized that she was eating her slice of peach in a rather unorthodox manner.

He stared as Cassandra seductively licked the peach slice, poking it in and out of her mouth and gently sucking on it. He felt a tingling surge in his groin as she slowly bit into the bright yellow flesh. Juice dribbled down her chin and throat; one particularly large drop fell, landing perfectly on the nipple of her left breast, hard and pert in the morning air. Jenkins gawked at the drop of juice, transfixed. He unconsciously licked his lips, the piece of bread in his hand completely forgotten. Cassandra rise to her knees and held her arms away from her body so he had a clear view of her body.

"Would you like a taste of my peach, Jenkins?" she asked with exaggerated innocence.

Tossing the bread aside, Jenkins lunged towards the redhead, grabbed her around the waist and dragged her squealing into the bed. He hungrily licked and sucked the sweet, sticky juice from her throat, lips and breast, then worked his way down towards juicier, far sweeter fruit.

#########

The back door hummed to life and swung open, and Eve Baird, Jake Stone and Ezekiel Jones looked up from their respective desks. The Librarian and the Caretaker stepped through the door and into the workroom, arm in arm, Cassandra, wearing her wreath of flowers and beaming like the sun, Jenkins smiling at her adoringly. Both of them looked somewhat bedraggled, with mussed hair and rumpled clothing.

"Ah!" said Eve brightly. "Finally! The 'walk of shame'! Looks like you two had a good time."

"We did!" the redhead enthused. She cast a sideways glance at the tall immortal. "Um, Eve? Could you come help me with something real quick?"

"I thought you'd never ask!" shot back Eve, a large smile coming to her face as she jumped up from her chair and quickly followed the mathmagician down the hallway, the two of them already whispering and giggling as Cassandra began telling Eve all about her birthday surprises.

Jenkins fondly watched his love until she disappeared from view, then turned his attention to the two grinning, leering young men.

"Mr. Jones, Mr. Stone. After I get myself put back in order, would the two of you be so kind as to help me bring back some things from France?"

"France?" the pair responded together.

"I took Miss Cillian there yesterday for her birthday. I hadn't planned to be away for so long, but we ended up spending the night there. I need to remove our things quickly before anyone else discovers them."

"Sure, no problem, J," said Jake as he slapped Ezekiel in the shoulder. "Come on, Zeke, let's me and you go break out the haz-mat suits!" The two burst into guffaws at the bawdy joke.

Jenkins frowned and pinned them with his sternest glare, and they tried to bite back their glee. As the Caretaker passed behind them as he headed towards his room to freshen up, he casually reached out slapped them both sharply in the backs of their heads. Jones and Stone burst into renewed peals of laughter as he walked away without a backward glance.