You have my word as a LeBlanc. I'll not strike you again, no matter the circumstances.
[She snorts a faint laugh.] Well said. I'll continue my research for you and let you know what I find that might suit you better.
Don't be. It was your birthday and you wanted to enjoy yourself, as was your right. It's done.
I wouldn't know, to be honest. But I've never known someone to turn down wine.
Company and a secure environment tend to make it easier for one to enjoy themselves when they normally would not.
This was your first on your own, celebrated as a man your age.
...
Did you open my gift?
...
Did you open my gift?
Good. It'll make riding in the fall and winter more comfortable for you.
I just took what you tended to wear normally and extrapolated from there.
Perhaps when we have time you could...teach me to ride? I never was much of an equestrian.
Better transportation will make it simpler for those that wold work on the farm to get there in a timely fashion- it really is a productive project you've created here. Watching it come to fruition must be gratifying.
"Take care, Gregor," she bade her farewell with a rare use of his full first name. Buffy had once seen a Gregor sliced through the chest with a hubcap and she often prefered to distance herself from any association between that violence and her recent friend; however, today? Gregor deserved his name. So -- in Spike's skin -- she gave him one last smile before slipping out of the apartment.
In the tall but narrow gift bag left behind, he'll find a pair of cowboy boots. Simple but supple enough. And red. With them was a note:
Greg,
Voila the riding footwear of my countrymen: cowboy boots. I'm not sure it gets any more plebe than this. If you like them, I'll get you a matching hat at Christmas.
Thanks for the lessons. Can't wait to get back to them when I'm feeling more myself. By now, you either know what I mean or you'll find out later.
Happy Birthday & many more,
- Buffy
In the tall but narrow gift bag left behind, he'll find a pair of cowboy boots. Simple but supple enough. And red. With them was a note:
Greg,
Voila the riding footwear of my countrymen: cowboy boots. I'm not sure it gets any more plebe than this. If you like them, I'll get you a matching hat at Christmas.
Thanks for the lessons. Can't wait to get back to them when I'm feeling more myself. By now, you either know what I mean or you'll find out later.
Happy Birthday & many more,
- Buffy
It's not an option normally available to you, is it?
I don't even want to try imagining that. Not really.
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