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Buffy blinked, blinked again, and then was fairly certain she blushed. He had electric blue eyes, that was the first thing she noticed, that held hers as though he could read her soul. Model worthy cheekbones and eyelashes she would have killed for, a soft, almost too delicate mouth, but a strong chin that saved him from appearing too feminine. His hair was unusual, not so much for Southern California, where a beached look was common, but for the small farming area her grandparents lived. He was dressed casually, in faded dark jeans and a old T-shirt, but he had a grace and elegance in the way he moved as he stood up when she and her Gram entered the kitchen, that belied the suggestion he was just a local boy brought in to help for the summer.

Gramps stood as well and pulled her over, obviously proud and ready to make introductions. She honestly couldn’t recall later if she’d said much. She thought she’d got out a hello, or pleased to meet you, but not much more than that. Buffy processed the fact that his name was William Aetherton, that he went by the unusual moniker of Spike, which her grandfather seemed amused by, and that he was there for the summer to work with him on a new hybird grapevine that Gramps had been toying with for years.

After the introductions had been made, they left for the fields, and Gram bustled around the kitchen, fixing some warm bread and strawberry jam as a snack after the long trip.

"So he’s staying here? You don’t usually let the summer guys stay here," Buffy sneaked a pinch of bread off the loaf as her grandmother smacked her hand away.

"He’s the grandson of your grandfather’s friend. Do you remember the Aethertons visiting when you were little?"

Buffy shook her head, but the name sounded familiar.

"Whoa, like Aetherton Wineries? Those English guys?"

Her grandmother nodded. "Those are the ones. Your grandfather and he were good friends years ago, back in the sixties when Aetherton was first buying vineyards here in California. William’s joining the family business soon."

"Oh." Buffy tried to sound disinterested. She hadn’t been able to peg his age, but was certain it would fall in the category of too old for Buffy, in Gram’s opinion at least. Better not to go down that road.

"He’s a polite young man, they haven’t spoiled him. Though with that mother of his," her grandmother tutted as she slid the bread in front of her. "But one shouldn’t gossip. Now eat up dear, you’re practically skin and bones."

Buffy grinned. Only her grandmother would see dropping the baby fat as becoming skin and bones. "Yes Gram."

She wanted to know more about Spike, but the moment had passed, so she let the subject drop and they talked about the changes in the last year.

"So Gramps is really cutting back huh?"

Her grandmother nodded. "The Thurmans have leased most of the fields this year. He just can’t go like he used to. But he seems happy, says it gives him more time to work on his project."

So how it that hybrid coming along?"

"He says they’re getting there. They’ve cultivated samples and are still working on some more vines. He says if it tests well, it should create a much hardier stock against that new root rot that’s been plaguing vineyards."

"Great. So he thinks this time he’s got it?" Her grandfather had developed hybrids for years, some with varying successes, but had been working on this plant for more than a year now.

"He hopes so. William has been a big help in assisting, not just with the actual tinkering they do out there, but the business records and so on. He’s been studying the past year here, at UCLA, they have that program, you know, for vineyards. Smart boy, he’s also been doing business."

"Really?" Buffy quickly took a bite, secretly impressed and a little overwhelmed. That all sounded like a lot of work.

"Yes, though he’ll be headed back to England for his final year at the end of the summer."

So he was still in college. Hmmm. Something about her face must have given her away as she placed her plate in the sink and headed out to find her grandfather.

"Buffy?"

She turned, hand on the doorknob, as her grandmother looked directly at me. "Sweetheart. He’s too old, he’s from a different world and he’ll only break your heart, then leave."

"Oh Gran, please, don’t be silly."

Her grandmother merely raised an eyebrow as Buffy continued out the door.

Sometimes she wish she’d listened to her.

~~~~~~~~~~

"So you’re Buffy, right?" The honeyed tones of his accent startled her a little and she almost dropped the cup of coffee she had blearily poured after staggering into the kitchen.

She nodded and turned around to find him hovering behind her, looking just as edible as the day before. If he’d be a senior in college this fall, what would that make him? About twenty? Maybe twenty-one? That wasn’t that old, in the big scheme of things. After all she was seventeen and about to be a senior too. Her sense of romance might be dead, but her hormones weren’t. It was fate. Him, her, thrown together for the summer here . . . Her daydreams faded as his voice snapped her back to attention.

"Unusual name there, pet. Story behind it?"

Buffy shrugged and took a slow sip, trying to calm her nerves. "Not really. Just the name my mother gave me. What about you, Spike? Must be a story behind that one."

He grinned, making him possibly more adorable than before, at least until he opened his mouth "That there is, but not for the likes of tender ears like yours. Little girls aren’t meant for such tales."

Little girl? It wasn’t like she was seven or something. And where did he get off treating her like some kid? Cute mug or no, she decided, Mr. William Aetherton, a.k.a. Spike, was going to eat his words before the summer was over. She’d show him she wasn’t a baby.

Before she could act on this new impulse however, he’d gave her a nod and was out the door, a cup of coffee in one hand, a slice of something her grandmother had baked in the other.

And so her summer with Spike began.

~~~~~~~~~~~

When she thought back on it later, the first part of the summer was something of a blur of familiarity, much like past years. A regular quiet rhythm to the days and nights.

Mornings were early, not much sleeping in, and there were her summer chores do be done. Part of the housekeeping, feeding the few animals they kept, a cow and a small number of chickens, because her grandmother insisted baking was better with fresh eggs and milk. She’d never minded, everyone had to work to earn their keep and it was a welcome distraction.

But then her days were free, and she’d take off to her favorite place, the bend of the stream where the water was deepest and she could paddle around and cool off. She’d swim, lay on the bank, read, and just enjoy being lazy.

By lunch, she’d come back, help Gram get everything together for whoever was going to be around that day. Maybe help afterwards with some project, as Gram liked to call the various crafts she did, or tag along after Gramps.

But this summer there was that one additional note that varied the regular tune of the days. Spike.

She didn’t made much progress with catching his attention at first. Or proving anything to him. He spent his days working with her grandfather, and while he was pleasant enough at meals in a general sense, it was always in that vague, barely aware of her existence sort of way that adults sometimes had, as though she were part of the scenery.

It drove her nuts. So getting his attention became her pet project as the last weeks of May slid into June.

Phase one was learning her subject.

They had converted the old carriage house into a bachelor pad of sorts for him, really just a bedroom/sitting room and small bathroom to the side. Very plain and functional, sparsely furnished. She’d checked it out one day when he was out. Just surveyed the room, because she wasn’t a snoop. Though she really did want to check out the suitcase at the bottom of the bed.

She discovered he ran every morning, very early. She’d happened to glance out her window as the sun came over the horizon and saw him slowing under her window, wiping the sweat from the early morning jog off his torso as he panted from the exertion.

It was a beautiful sight, and she found herself setting her clock just a little earlier to catch it.

Then he’d disappear back to his little apartment and grab some breakfast before disappearing into her grandfather’s office, until Gramps would join him and the two would head for the greenhouse.

He often had dinner with them, but occasionally took off into town at night, to do what Buffy wasn’t sure. She hadn’t yet figured out a good reason to ask if she could ride into town with him sometime, but she was working on it.

She found as she watched him that the initial allure began to fade into something oddly more comfortable, yet at the same time even more intriguing. He was a conundrum, projecting this air of being all big and bad, but an incredible gentlemen to her grandmother and always respectful to her grandfather. He seemed to really take his advice to heart, to listen to him. And that impressed her.

But he continued to virtually ignore her. And that was just plain annoying.

She decided she needed to move to the next phase. She’d observed long enough. It was time to take affirmative action.

~~~~~~~~~~

"Buffy, good morning dear, would you like to join in?" Her grandfather beamed at her as she silently slipped though the door to the greenhouse where he worked with his experimental vines.

She noticed Spike roll his eyes slightly at her interruption, but he didn’t say anything, just kept deftly cutting away at the stake he was sharpening.

"I’d love to Gramps, I’ve missed working out here with you. I just didn’t want to interrupt anything important."

"Oh, no, you’d be a great help." He turned to his young assistant. "You should see her Spike, she’s got quite a deft hand." He gave Buffy a set of gloves and the tools she’d need to work with before setting her in front of the latest round of vines they were preparing to graft.

Buffy listened as her grandfather reminded her of the procedure and showed her the vines she was to work on. She nodded with understanding, it was just like she’d done in the past, and quickly began as her grandfather turned back to his work. A comfortable silence settled over the room and Buffy found herself sneaking peeks at Spike across the table. His brow was knit with concentration over the calculations he was now focusing intently on and his lips moved silently as he worked though whatever problem was before him.

Why did he have to be so aloof with her all the time? She was sure he had to get lonely sometimes to. She loved her grandparents dearly, but there were times when she really wanted to talk to someone who wasn’t from the greatest generation. If he’d stop being so stupid, they could definitely hang out or something. Her eyes drifted to those lips again and she grinned a little. Or something indeed.

Her brain started to drift off on that track, one of her more pleasant daydreams that involved her, Spike and those lips. Except she wasn’t really sure how to get started on that. What with him not noticing her and all.

As she mulled possibilities over in her head, she noticed her grandfather had stepped out and the two of them were now alone. Maybe she should say something , something witty and adult that would make him see her differently. She racked her brain for an opener as she watched him work. Nope, she was coming up blank.

"Buffy? What the hell are you doing?" His barked question brought her up short as she looked down at the vine in her hand that she had ruined. He stalked around the table and removed the grafting knife from her hand.

"This is why we don’t let little girls play in here. Do you know how long it took to get to this point in your grandfather’s research, how hard he’s worked on these vines? You’re just lucky this was the only one that you ruined."

Her voice was small as she said, "I’m really sorry. I guess I wasn’t paying enough attention."

He snorted. "You guess? Yeah, you’d guess right. Now why don’t you run back and play with your dollies and leave this to the grown-ups. I’ll salvage this before your grandfather gets back."

Her eyes narrowed as she drew herself up to what was admittedly not that impressive a height. "I do not play with dolls. I’m seventeen years old, I’m not some little kid. I made a mistake, but I can fix it."

He stepped closer to her, invading her personal space until he was just inches from her face as he used his fingertips to tilt her chin up so their eyes met. "You think you’re a grown-up Buffy?"

Her heart was trip-hammering at his presence, the faint smell of some scent she didn’t recognize but that seemed to be very Spike wafting around her and clouding what little judgment she had left, but she managed to choke out a stammered, "Yes."

He laughed then and stepped away. "Just cause you look like one doesn’t mean you are. You have so very much to learn, little girl. Now get out of here and let me fix this mess."

He thought she looked like a woman? She started to reengage him, but he’d already turned his back in a dismissive gesture and she exited the greenhouse. She had screwed up, she’d been drifting and daydreaming and had almost ruined the plants. She’d apologize to her grandfather. But that other, the way he looked at her? Well that required some thought. Maybe he wasn’t quite so impervious to her as he acted.

~~~~~~~~~~~

The buzz of the alarm clock the next morning startled her and she rolled over to hit the button as she flopped on her back. Ugh, she was never going to be a morning person. But, there were some things worth getting up early for. She grinned as she slid out of bed and wandered to the window to wait for her favorite runner.

But there was no Spike.

She frowned and glanced at the clock. Had he overslept? He was always here this time of the morning.

What if he’d fallen or something? She hastily threw on her shorts and a t-shirt as she hurried down the stairs to where her grandmother was starting the morning coffee.

"Good morning Buffy, I guess everyone’s off to an early start this morning."

"Huh? I mean good morning." She shook her head. "Sorry Gram, still a little fuzzy. What did you say?"

"Oh, just William and your grandfather got such an early start this morning. They’d already left before I could make them breakfast."

"They left? Why? Where’d they go?"

"Los Angeles. They’re taking in those samples to the labs on campus. I’m glad William will be with him, you know how your grandfather hates that drive."

"Oh." She thought for a minute, "Gran, that one I messed up yesterday, was it okay?"

"It was fine Buffy, your grandfather wasn’t mad at you."

"Good. I really didn’t mean to."

"He knows dear, it’s alright."

Buffy poured a cup of the strong smelling brew that was getting her synapses firing. "So when are they coming back?

"A few days. It’ll be good for your grandfather to get away. Hopefully, it’ll give him a bit of a breather, he tries to do too much around here still, and he’s not as young as he once was."

Buffy smiled. "I know, but you and Gramps will still be around and kicking when you’re a hundred, Gram." She grabbed her mug. "Well, I’m up, guess I’ll go get started." She dropped a kiss on her grandmother’s soft cheek and headed for the door.

As she absently scattered the feed for the chickens, she pondered what had happened yesterday. She shouldn’t have been such a spaz, should have been more focused. But he’d noticed her.

Those few seconds, when he’d been so close. She shuddered. There had definitely been something there. Maybe not quite flirting. He’d been too annoyed for that. But he had looked at her, for what seemed the first time.

And if he’d noticed her then, he’d notice her again. She just needed to come up with ways to spend more time with him, preferably alone. And with him gone, she had a few days reprieve to come up with a plan.

She smiled as she moved to pet the gentle cow who stared at her wide-eyed. This was going to be fun.





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