Stawberry Wine
 Prologue-Chapters 3



Written by: Lady Anne
Author's Website





Summary: Buffy meets a young man who sparks her interest. WIP - Fantasy
Disclaimer: The show Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel (The Series) and all of it's characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, & Fox Prod.
Feedback: Yes, Please. ladyanne@wickedenergy.net





Prologue

She watched the cool stream as it cut its way though the green banks and she smiled. It had been ten years since she was here in this spot and very little had changed. The sun felt the same, beating down on her shoulders. The gurgle of the water as it crashed over the rocks sounded like an old friend. And the smell. The smell of strawberries ripe on the vine in late July took her back in time.

She stripped off her stockings as she settled by the stream, not caring about the grass stains on her black dress, and plunged her feet into the swiftly moving water. As she lay back and closed her eyes, time slipped away, back to that last summer she was here, the summer she was seventeen.

~~~~~~~~~~

The letter lay on the small hall table when she came home from school, instantly recognizable by its delicate cerulean color and spidery handwriting. As Buffy laid down her keys, she knew at once who it was from. The only person who ever sent her letters. Her grandmother.

She picked up the envelope to carry with her upstairs. It was May. School would be done in two weeks. Could it be they wanted her to come this summer after all?

She sank down on her bed as she slid open the letter, the scent of lavender taking her back to a wealth of memories.

Summers with her grandparents in Sunnydale had always been the highlight of her young life. Every year from the time she was a little tiny girl, as soon as school was out she’d beg and plead with her parents to go stay with Gramps and Gram. Her mom came from a big family, several sisters and multiple cousins, but they lived far away on the east coast, distant relations she barely knew from photos and the biyearly Christmas visit. But her dad was an only child and so was she. As the only grandchild, she was the apple of his parents’ eye and they always welcomed her summer visits.

Gramps owned a small vineyard outside of town where he tinkered with the vines, as her dad would say, and he and Gram lived there in a old white house that never seemed to change. They were fairly isolated, no near neighbors, no other kids her age.

But Buffy rarely noticed. She had her own special room at their house, fluffy and frilly and covered in white eyelet ruffles her Gram sewed just for her, where she felt like a princess. And down by the stream that meandered on the edge of the property, her Gramps had built a small treehouse where she could hide away and watch the world.

She could go out and trail Gramps around all day, bugging him to tell her about the vines and what he was doing. Or Gram would show her how to bake one of the cakes she was famous for, or let her tag along to pick the strawberries that were her specialty. Her Gram always teased Gramps that one day y understood why her dad had suddenly decided to walk away. Her mom called it a mid-life crisis, complete with the little red convertible, and Buffy wondered sometimes if she thought he was coming back when he’d gotten it out of his system.

She didn't think he ever was. And part of her was glad.

Every time her dad would invite her over for a visit to his new apartment, or she’d see her mom with red eyes, she got a little more jaded about the idea of love and romance and the whole fairy tale. She’d had friends whose parents had split, but she’d never thought it would happen to her family. Not to Hank and Joyce. They’d always seemed so . . . perfect. So in love.

She could remember, almost like an old movie reel, watching her dad creep up behind her mom, catching her off guard as he swept her back for a big screen style kiss - the kind the curtain came down on. Her mom had squealed and threw her arms around his neck, giggling as she called out his name. She’d been fourteen at the time, with nothing more than the usual share of unrequited crushes and more than one Tiger Beat star grinning from the walls of her bedroom at home. But she could remember thinking, one day, that’ll be me. In love. Because that, she was sure, was what it looked like.

But then the fairy dust cleared as her fifteenth year brought quiet arguments, her sixteenth outright fights, and now, at seventeen, the shattered bits of a couple she’d once watched with starry eyes. She knew better now. Love might have meant something back in her grandparents’ day, but not anymore.

But there were two people who had a different kind of love for her that she was sure was unconditional. Which brought her back to the letter. She began to scan the lines quickly, then leapt from the bed in her excitement as she found the words of invitation she’d been looking for. Come spend the summer with us. She flew down the stairs with the letter, babbling happily to her mom and begging to go.

She said yes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The day after school was done for the year, her dad picked her up and drove her up to her grandparents’ place. They didn't have much to say to each other, and conversation dwindled to a halt after the usual standard inquires about school and jobs. He mentioned he’d be leaving town soon for a working vacation, but promised he’d be back for the big Fourth of July weekend he always came and spent with them. It wouldn’t be the same without her mom, but she was glad he hadn’t forgotten. They listened to the radio then, forgettable adult contemporary tunes as the miles flew by, bringing them closer and closer to Sunnydale and a fresh start. Somehow Buffy knew that if she could just get back there, everything would be alright again.

When they arrived, her dad went in for a moment, carrying her suitcase onto the front porch as he gave his mom an awkward hug and shook hands with his father. The air hung with unanswered questions and he didn’t stay long, claiming work required him to hurry back. As the taillights of his car eased down the driveway and back to the main road, she was engulfed in the hugs of her two favorite people, chattering happily. She was home.

Gram held her at arm’s length, eyes twinkling, commenting on how grown up she’d become, and Gramps told her she’d become quite the looker. The last year had changed her, not just inside but outside as well. She’d lost the roly-poly look she’d had for years and her features had become more defined. She’d finally gotten something of a figure, some recognizable curves. She knew when she looked in the mirror now that she saw a young woman, not a little girl reflected back.

Gramps deposited the suitcases in her frilly room, still the same after all these years, and she welcomed the familiarity that last year has merely annoyed. Gram had followed her up to help unpack. She pursed her lips a time or two over a few of the halter tops and shorts, but held her tongue, with just a few clucks here and thereher strawberry wine would take off and she’d put him out of business, but she really just made it for friends and family.

Yes, summers had always been good. That small white house in Sunnydale was a little place apart, her own secret garden, the place where she could just be Buffy.

And then her sophomore year of high school, her world fell apart. Fights of epic proportions could be heard nightly behind her parent’s closed bedroom door, at least the nights her father came home, while on the surface they insisted everything was fine. The transition to high school that year for a late bloomer like her, still chubby with baby fat and awkward at sixteen, had been less than smooth and teenage hormones had intensified everything. Her parents had been so eager to bundle her off to Sunnydale by the summer, yet for the first time, she hadn’t wanted to go, hadn’t wanted to be excluded from whatever was making her family fall apart, from her few close friends, from the chance to just hang out like everyone else.

Everything had looked different that year. The white house needed a fresh coat of paint, the little treehouse seemed childish, her grandparents antiquated and behind the times. She didn’t want to be alone in the middle of nowhere. She wanted her friends, few though they were, her MTV, access to the nearby beach where the cool kids would hang out. Instead she spent the summer sullen and moody, complaining about everything, the lack of cable, how far they were from town, let alone a mall, how much fun her friends were probably having at the shore with everyone else. She’d ruined her own little Eden with her discontent.

For the first time, Gramps didn’t invite her to go down to the vineyard with him and help, and she fought constantly with her Gram about everything, from how much makeup she could wear, just a little chapstick and some light blush according to Gram, to how she was doing in school, not so well\, to what chores she had to do while staying with them. Nothing was good enough for her and finally it was too much for everyone. She left early that year, going back to Los Angeles and home.

And then reality hit in a huge way, as the crisis she’d known was coming started them all on a roller coaster ride. Her Mom and Dad had separated at the beginning of the summer when she’d left for her grandparents, a fact no one had felt she should know at the time. It's complicated, Buffy. We just wanted to protect you, sugar. The explanations didn't soften the blow at all. She arrived back to find her mother packing for the move to a smaller house in a different part of town and her dad more and more absent.

Money was tighter as her parents’ divorce meandered through the legal system. She’d had to get a part-time job, and start worrying if she was really going to be able to afford to go to college after all. In the wake of reality, her priorities of trying to be pretty and popular seemed less important than they had before. Just getting through each day became the bigger task.

By Christmas things had leveled out and she felt more settled. It was like the roller coaster had crested a peak, and she’d finally hit the bottom where she could just coast for a while. And with the freefall behind her she remembered what had happened during the summer, and how she’d hurt two people who had always loved her and wanted to be there for her. Who’d never let her down.

So she wrote the first long letter to her Gramps and Gram, apologizing for the way she’d acted and they responded in kind with even longer letters. Actual mail almost seemed an anachronism in the days of instant communication, but she treasured each of those missives, written on this fine notepaper in the elegant scrawl that marked her Gram’s script.

The dialogue back and forth gave her an outlet for what was happening between her folks, a place for the pain and anger to go. Her grandparents were a sympathetic ear, having always liked her mom and none of them reall. Buffy teasingly offered to loan her something for date night with Gramps, and Gram laughed at the ludicrous thought of her in a midriff baring top as she shooed her down to the kitchen for a snack.

They descended the steps together and returned to the kitchen where Buffy found her grandfather sitting with the most beautiful man she’d ever seen. At that moment she knew the summer was going to be different from any other.

And she was right.

 

Chapter 1

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 too. 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.

 

Chapter 2



It was Thursday by the time Spike and her grandfather came back from LA. Buffy was still hadn’t managed to craft a subtle yet believable scenario to corner him alone.

Until her grandmother did it for her the next day.

She’d been washing up the dishes from lunch when the first twinge hit her. By the time she’d finished drying everything and putting it away, the cramps had started in earnest. She’d trotted upstairs to the bathroom to find her monthly visitor had come early. Crap. She stared at the blood and groaned. Now, where had she packed her tampons?

She hunted under the sink without success. Maybe she’d left them in her room? A thorough search revealed nothing. How could she have forgotten to pack them?

"Gram? Can you take me into town? Like now?"

"What ever for, Buffy?"

Buffy trotted down the stairs. "I need to get some things." At her grandmother’s blank look she grimaced and added. "You know, girl things, Gram."

"Oh, right dear."

Just then Spike popped his head in the door.

"I’m going to post these letters, Mrs. Summers, can I pick up anything for you while I’m in town?"

"Well, actually, Buffy needs some . . ." she looked at her frantically motioning granddaughter. "Buffy needs a ride into town to pick up a few things. Would that be alright with you?"

He shrugged. "No problem."

~~~~~~~~~

"How on earth did you convince him to let you drive this car for the summer?" Buffy patted the seat of the perfectly restored Desoto that was her grandfather’s pride and joy. "He adores this thing."

"And well he should, she’s a bloody classic. I did a bit of a tuning on her first off when I came, he knows I respect her."

She rolled her eyes. "Oh please, not you too. This is a car, Spike, not a person. What is it with you men?"

Spike shot her a grin and patted the dash lovingly. "Ignore her baby, she’s just jealous."

"Whatever." Buffy leaned back into the seat, but couldn’t help smiling. They were talking, actually carrying on a conversation. This was great. Now she just needed to keep the ball rolling.

"So how was L.A.? Did everything go well with the presentation?" As his face shut down she realized the wrong turn. Yep, remind him what an irresponsible little kid you were with the vines, why don’t you, Buff?

"It was fine. No thanks to you."

"Spike, I wasn’t careful enough and I’m sorry. I know how hard you’ve both worked on this project and I should have been more responsible if I wanted to be involved."

She was pleased to see him glance over at her with a look of respect. "It worked out alright, short stuff. Don’t worry about it."

She smiled as he parked in front of the post office and turned to her. "So, what did you need to get?"

Yeah, like she was going there. "Oh, I’ve just got to run to the drugstore and pick up a few things. Shall I meet you here when I get done?"

"That’ll be fine."

She bounced out of the car. Despite the sucky cramps, she was excited. He wasn’t treating her so much like a kid anymore, he was actually talking to her for once, instead of down to her. He’d seemed to even warm a little after her apology. Maybe he’d want to hang out with her now. Not like there was much else going on in Sunnydale to entertain him on a Friday night. She might even work up the nerve to ask him if he wanted to catch a movie later at the little duplex here in town.

She crossed the street and hurried down the row of main street shops to the pharmacy to quickly find what she was looking for. She grabbed an extra bottle of Midol and a Coke as well and waited patiently while the clerk rang up her purchases and she paid.

"Do you have a restroom I could use?"

The bored clerk nodded towards the back and she hurriedly took care of the necessaries and gulped a couple of the pills. There, better now. She bounced out of the store and turned back towards the car, hoping she hadn’t kept him waiting too long.

And stopped dead, the cool air of the drugstore sealed off behind her as the door slid shut. Across the street Spike was standing by the car. Waiting. But he didn’t look bored.

Oh no.

He'd found the local entertainment. In the form of some skank, who was leaning back against the car with her breasts thrust out so far she might as well have been offering them to Spike on a silver platter.

Buffy narrowed her eyes and headed back across the street.

"Hey, get what you needed?" Spike called out as she stalked towards the car.

She held up the paper shopping bag, "All done." She plastered a fake smile on. "Are you ready to head back now, Spike?"

"Hmm, oh yeah." He dragged his eyes away from the other girl’s ample charms. "Yeah, I’m ready. I’m sorry Buffy, forgot to make the introductions. You two don’t . . ." He gestured between them.

"We haven’t had the pleasure. I’m Faith, and you must be Buffy."

"That’s right. Nice to meet you, Faith."

The dark-headed girl’s eyebrow raised just a hair as she caught the chill in Buffy’s voice that indicated it was anything but nice.

"Buffy, Faith’s going to ride back with us. We’re going to catch a show at the drive-in tonight and she said she didn’t mind the extra trip. We’ll drop you off, okay?"

"Great." Buffy started for the car just as Faith slid into the front seat. Next to him. "Oh, sorry, shotgun, B."

"It’s Buffy." She gritted her teeth and opened the door to the backseat. The very spacious backseat. That would no doubt be occupied tonight if they were going to the drive-in. Suddenly her cramps seemed to get worse.

Spike pulled the car into reverse and headed for the road out to her grandparents’ place.

"So, you go to school around here?" Faith looked over her shoulder.

"No, I’m just here for the summer, I live in L.A."

"You in high school?"

"Yes. I’ll be a senior this fall." Buffy paused. Faith didn’t look that old to her, except in a jaded ho-bag kind of way. "How about you?"

"Oh, I’ve been out for a few years. Never was much for the school thing." She turned back to Spike, clearly dismissing Buffy as competition. "And how about you, big guy? I bet you’re a college boy, aren’t you?" She slid a little closer to Spike on the seat.

Buffy groaned. Could this get any worse?

Thirty minutes later she watched out her window as Spike and Faith drove away back towards town, and she realized indeed it could.

~~~~~~~~~~~

And then after dinner, as she lounged on the couch reading while her grandmother cross-stitched and her grandfather yelled answers at Jeopardy on the television, she realized the night had yet to hit bottom.

The portable phone rang next to her head, startling her, and she grabbed the receiver and passed it to her grandmother without answering.

"Hello? Why yes, she’s right here Joyce. How are you?" Her grandmother listened for a moment, her face growing troubled. "Oh yes, that’s well . . . I’m just so sorry. Hank’s disappointed us all."

She motioned for her to come closer. "I’ll put Buffy on now."

Buffy took the phone and then headed for the privacy of the porch as she answered, "Mom?"

"Hey sweetie, you having a good time?"

Buffy could hear the crack in her mother’s voice even as she tried to sound cheerful for her. "Mom, what’s wrong?"

"Honey, it’s about your dad."

"Is something wrong with him?"

The sigh carried over the lines. "Well, that’s something I’d like to know as well. But no, Buffy, he’s not hurt."

"Then what is it, Mom?"

"Buffy, your dad decided to stay in Europe for a while longer. He asked me to tell you he won’t be back for the weekend of the Fourth."

"Oh." Buffy clutched the receiver a little tighter. She was used to him not always keeping his promises by now. "Is it work?"

Her mom’s laughter had a tinge of irony to it. "Not exactly. Buffy, you know how your dad got the bachelor pad and the new car?"

"Yeah?"

"He also got the young secretary girlfriend as part of his midlife crisis package. He’s . . . well, they’re touring Europe right now. That’s why he won’t be there." Her mother didn’t bother trying to hide her bitterness.

"Oh." She knew she was starting to sound like a broken record. "Mom, how long has he been seeing her? Is she new?"

"No, baby, she’s not. It seems she’s been there since the beginning." Sobs were starting to clog her mom’s throat now. "That bastard was seeing her the whole time, before he even left. He just didn’t want me to know until after we’d finished the settlement.

" "Oh, Mom, no! How could he do that to you?"

"I’m sorry Buffy, I shouldn’t have said that. He’s still your father."

"Don’t worry about it, Mom, he is a bastard." She shifted the phone to the other ear. "Are you going to be okay? Do you want me to come home?"

"No, Buffy, no. You stay right there. Your grandparents are good people and you’ll be better off there. I just wanted you to know he wouldn’t be coming."

"You know, Mom, it’s okay. I guess somewhere deep down I kind of thought he wouldn’t make it this year. Are you sure you’re alright? You want to come up? I know Gram and Gramps would love to have you."

"No, sweetie, I’m taking a few weeks off to go see your aunt. There’s just too many memories up there at your grandparents for me right now."

"Okay. Be careful. I love you Mom. Call me if you need me."

"I will. I love you too, Buffy."

Buffy disconnected the call and sank down on the porch steps as the screen door opened. "Buffy, are you okay?" Her grandparents were both standing in the doorway.

"Yeah, I’m okay." She surreptitiously wiped a tear away from the corner of her eye. "I guess it’s not that big a surprise, is it?"

The sorrow on their faces was almost too much for her to take as she gently laid down the phone and backed down the steps. "I’m going to go for a walk, just down to the creek. Is that okay?"

Her Gram’s voice carried through the growing dusk. "Just be careful dear."

~~~~~~~~~

She slipped down the path she’d run down a thousand times, ignoring the tears that were now falling freely. She didn’t know why, after all this time, that it seemed so much worse to find out about her dad’s infidelity. At least now there was a reason, of sorts. At least now it wasn’t just that he didn’t love her and her mother enough. It was just that he wanted someone else more.

On second thought, that was worse.

She could hear the music of the stream now as she wiped her eyes, furious that she was wasting time crying over him. And then another sound that caused her to look up to find Spike, sitting at the edge of the stream in her usual spot.

Alone.

"What are you doing here?"

He looked around and took a long slow drag off the bottle in his hand. "Could ask you the same thing, short stuff."

She plodded over and sat down beside him. "Can I have a drink of that?"

He noticed the tear tracks on her face now that she was closer. "No. Not contributing to the delinquency of a minor tonight. What’s the matter?"

She busied herself untying her shoes and carefully set them to the side so she could stick her feet into the stream.

"Don’t want to talk about it. Where’s the ho bag?"

That raised a chuckle. "The ho bag?"

"Yeah. Faith. Thought you two were going to the drive-in."

He took another drink. "Plans changed, took her home. Decided I wanted a night to myself."

"Yeah, that’s what I was hoping for as well."

"I was here first and ‘m not leaving."

"Didn’t ask you to. I can be alone with you here."

"Thanks ever so."

They fell silent then, watching the moonlight play across the water that continued to run quietly along its banks. She found herself still wiping away tears that seemed to fall of their own accord.

"You might as well tell me what the waterworks are about. It might make you feel better."

She glanced at him. "Make you a deal. You tell me why you’re down here hitting the bottle instead of out on a hot date first."

He shrugged. "Just family stuff."

She was surprised by his admission. "Same here." He met her eyes then and she saw a spark of understanding , a reflection of her own pain and disappointment. She found herself telling him everything as he sat quietly and listened.

"My dad, he’s kind of been a big sleaze lately. And my mom called to tell me he wasn’t going to come up to visit like he promised. He is, at least he was, cheating on my mom. With his secretary." She laughed sadly. "Isn’t that such a cliché? And now he’d too busy with her to come see me either."

He turned towards her then and awkwardly patted her shoulder. "Buffy, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be such a prat, didn’t know what was going on."

She wiped her eyes one last time, feeling soothed somehow just to get it out. "I’m okay. It’s just, I don’t know, just hurts."

His hand remained on her back, rubbing small circles of comfort. "Yeah. It does."

She looked at him expectantly.

"So it’s my turn, I suppose?" he asked.

She nodded silently.

"’s a bit ironic really. Your dad’s a tosser who can’t keep it in his pants and my mom’s the one who’s runs around cuckolding the old man with any willing dick she can find."

She cringed a little at the venom in his words.

"She’s been doing it since I was a little tyke. If I weren’t the spitting image of my grandfather at this age, I’d wonder sometimes if I was even really an Aetherton. But she’s gone one step too far this time." She noticed the crumpled letter laying on the ground beside him for the first time. "Grandfather wrote me. She’s taken off again, with my father’s best friend. He’s gone off on a bender and Grand says he expects he’ll probably kill her if he finds her."

"Oh." His dad’s best friend, how awful. She impulsively leaned over and gave him a quick hug. "Spike, I’m so sorry. Is there anything I can do?" She drew back a little, but took his hand in hers, giving it a little squeeze. "Or do you need to go home?"

"No, that’s why he wrote me. Grand’ll calm Father down, he’s always been able to before. Mum’ll come back around at some point, begging him to take her back. I just hope he’ll stand up to her this time."

He took another swig off the beer and then passed it over. "Here, guess you might need this after all."

She took a tentative sip of the bitter liquid, swallowing quickly to get it past her taste buds. "Ugghhh."

He laughed at that. "Not much of a drinker, I take it."

She wrinkled her nose. "Nah, I’m pretty much a lightweight."

"So’s your mum alright?"

"She’s getting there."

"Good."

The silence that settled between them this time was comfortable. The usual soft noises of night sounded as time passed and they simply sat, hands still connected until she knew she needed to get back to the house.

"Thanks for listening to me, Spike. It helped." She stood up and brushed off the seat of her shorts as he too climbed to his feet.

"Same to you. And hey, chin up, short stuff. Men aren’t all like your dad. You’ve got a hell of a grandfather up there who would make anyone proud."

"He is pretty great, isn’t he?"

"Yeah, he is."

As they stood there, she was suddenly struck by something. "Are we having a real conversation?"

"Yeah, I guess we are. You know, I have to admit, I think I misjudged you, Buffy."

She was surprised and warmed by the admission. "Oh really? How’s that?"

"Your grandparents never stop talking about you, you know that? I think I was just expecting some sort of spoiled brat, or a little princess, and didn’t give you much of a chance. I’m sorry ‘bout giving you such a hard time before, in the greenhouse. You didn’t deserve that."

She smiled. "Thanks, Spike. You know you’re not so bad yourself, at least when you aren’t ignoring or lecturing me."

He grinned in acknowledgment of what she was saying as he wiped the sweat from the bottle off on his pants and stuck out his hand. "How about we take this from the top?"

She couldn’t suppress the big smile on her face at the full throttle charm, no matter how uncool it might be. "Hi, I’m Buffy Summers." She stuck out her hand as well and he grasped it firmly.

"Hello, Buffy Summers. I’m Spike Aetherton and I’m very pleased to meet you."

"Pleased to meet you as well."

He tilted his head to the side as he regarded her in the shadowed night. "Well, this could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship. Now how about I walk you back to the house before your Gramps sends out the dogs to find you?"

They started up the path side by side and Buffy felt a little like that roller coaster might have started to climb again. But unlike before, this time it felt good.

 

Chapter 3



Whose bed have your boots been under?
Whose heart did you steal I wonder?
This time did it feel like thunder, baby . . .

Buffy twirled across the kitchen with a spoon clutched firmly in her hand as she belted out in sync with Shania blasting across the airwaves on Gram’s favorite station. While her delivery might leave something to be desired, and she had serious doubts as to whether or not she was on key, she thought she had the dance moves down as she pirouetted and gyrated across the linoleum in her socks.

Whose bed have your boots been under?
I wanna know . . .

"Do tell, little missy."

Buffy yelped and leapt into the air at the really horrible version of a Southern accent behind her. She turned to find Spike leaning against the doorway, a smirk firmly affixed to his face at the startled look on hers.

So, Buffy, whose bed have your boots been under? Don’t let me stop your musical stylings to this melodious noise."

She reacted to his sarcasm- tinged words by marching over and snapping off the radio before turning back to him. "Cute, Spike. I suppose I could ask you the same."

He laughed. "Ahh, but a gentlemen never kisses and tells, now does he, pet? So I’ll keep my footwear’s placement to myself. Now, on a far less interesting note, I actually came to find you, have a chat."

She tried to ignore the little skip her heart made at that announcement. They’d been much friendlier over the last few days, but mostly in a joking sort of way. The sort of bond that shared pain could create, which was great. Having a friend who understood was . . . it was like it filled a hole up that she hadn’t known was there.

Starting over and meeting the new Spike hadn’t make him any less attractive to her though, quite the contrary. That kind of attention from a guy like him? Well, it didn’t hurt the ego any. But now that they were starting to get along, she wondered if her earlier daydreams of a summer fling would be a bad idea. She actually kind of liked this friends vibe, and she’d hate to mess that up. Wouldn’t she?

"Oh? Need something?"

"Your grandfather and I both do actually. He could use your assistance on this next bit we’re working on. And I think he’s right, you can do this. You will be careful this time, won’t you?" He smiled, but then his voice grew a little more serious as he leaned forward. "He’s not been feeling as well lately, Buffy, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but on our trip to L.A., he tired out pretty quickly."

She nodded. "He does seem frailer than before. Is he . . has he told you something’s wrong?"

"No. But he’s shakier, it’s harder for him to work on the vines with a steady hand, so I thought you might be willing to assist."

Buffy tossed the spoon in the sink. "Absolutely. I’m in. And I know how serious this project is, I’ll do a good job. When do I start?"

"How about tomorrow? But can you make it appear a bit of a volunteer on your part? That you just wanted to get out there again? This is a bit of an end run around behind his back, I’m afraid, but I agree with your grandmum he needs to take it a little easier."

"No problem." She ducked her head a little. "I’ve kind of missed it really. I always liked pottering around out there with him, but I didn’t want to be in the way."

"You won’t be. Good. I’ll see you in the greenhouse then tomorrow about 8:00ish?"

"I’ll be there." He turned to leave and she stopped him. "Oh, and Spike?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks. I appreciate you looking out for him like this. I don’t know what he would have done without you this summer."

"He’s a good man. Puts me in mind of my grandfather."

"Do you miss him?"

Spike dropped back into a chair at the kitchen table as she poured herself a glass of water, and at his nod to her silent gesture, poured one for him as well.

"Yeah, I do. Went home right after exams, before I came here, spent a week or so with him and the old man. He’s still going hard as ever. I’m not sure anything’s ever going to stop him. Did you ever meet him? I know he’s been here before."

Buffy shook her head. "No, I never did. Gramps has talked about him a lot though."

Spike took a drink of the water and contemplated the glass. "Yeah, he practically raised me. Training me up to follow in the family footsteps, like him and my father."

"Is that what you want to do? Be in the wine business?"

"I suppose. Been raised for that since I was a tot. What about you, you going to take over from your grandfather? Sounds as though your dad’s well out of it."

She snorted. "Yeah, you can say that again. Bastard."

"Well at least we got lucky with the older generation didn’t we? He held up his water glass. "To grandfathers, may they live long and in good health."

She nodded and raised her glass. "To grandfathers."

~~~~~~~~~~~

As July began, the more temperate days of June began to give way to the muggy heat of mid-summer. The weather forecast called for a string of days with record breaking temperatures to come as Buffy headed for the greenhouse. She pulled her thin t-shirt away from her skin that already felt as though a film of sweat was covering it.

"Hey, short stuff." Spike jogged up next to her just as she was about to go inside.

"Stop calling me that." She poked him in the ribs.

"What?"

"That stupid nickname."

He grinned at her. "Awww, is Bitty Buffy sensitive about being vertically challenged?"

She frowned. "It makes me feel like I’m twelve. And I’m not. And it’s a stupid name, William." She drawled out his given name, knowing how much he disliked it.

He held up his hands and backed away. "Ohh, Buffy’s playing hard ball. Very well. Truce, short stuff."

At her glare, he tugged her ponytail. "Fine, fine, just Buffy."

"Thank you."

Gramps joined them then and the playful bickering stopped as they picked up on their work from the previous day until the clock showed noon approaching. Her grandfather sat down heavily and Buffy looked over in concern. Since Spike had approached her a few weeks ago, she’d taken to watching her grandfather more closely, and she’d seen things she hadn’t caught before. The way he was just a little slower in all his movements. How his hands trembled when he reached for something. How tired he seemed at the end of the day.

It worried her more than she wanted to admit. He was one of the constants in her life, and she wasn’t ready for him to be gone.

"Gramps, you okay?"

He looked up at her then, the sweet smile that reassured her despite the lines around his eyes.

"I’m doing just fine." He gestured to the worktables. "We’re doing well with your help, Buffy. I’m so glad you decided you wanted to be involved again."

She ducked her head shyly at the praise. "No problem, Gramps."

"Well I believe it’s time for lunch. We’d best head for the house. Wouldn’t do to invoke your gram’s wrath now would it?"

Spike caught her grin. They’d been late for lunch last week and Gram had lectured them all soundly about the importance of regular meals. So promptness was a must.

"After you, just Buffy." Spike held the door for her with a sweeping gesture as she passed through after her grandfather, then fell in step beside her. Since she’d started working with him every day, things between them had changed for the better. He’d become part big brother, part pest, part confidant.

The best times were in the evenings. After dinner she’d wander down by the stream and Spike would join her. They’d talked for hours some nights, just watching the water as they talked. He’d tell her about his life back in London, regale her with stories of college life, anecdotes that amused her, though she sometimes suspected he was making things up for dramatic effect.

It always was certainly more exciting that anything in her little world and made her long for the end of high school even more. She enjoyed those times together, surprised that he listened so attentively to her tales of high school life, something that seemed trivial and beyond boring for someone like him. But he’d laugh at her stories, ask questions, and grant her one of those heart-stopping smiles before her tug a lock of her hair and suggest they head back in.

He also teased her mercilessly, now, and she responded in kind, a constant banter between them which always kept her on her toes. But she never knew quite how to take his comments and playful hugs. Did they actually mean something? Or was he just kidding around with her?

But she did know she liked it. And hoped he didn’t stop.

They started for the house through the sweltering heat that had deepened during the hours in the more temperate greenhouse. Her grandfather shaded his eyes as he stared at the cloudless, shimmering sky.

"You know what I think? I think we need an afternoon off. Let’s start the holiday early." He turned to Buffy. "Why don’t you take off down to that swimming hole of yours and cool off. You’ve been working hard, all cooped up with us. Need to get a little sun in your cheeks, girl."

She couldn’t help a little thrill of excitement at the prospect. It had been days since she’d managed to just laze down there and it would be so nice to cool off in the water. Still she felt bad abandoning them to go play. She shot a glance over at Spike.

"And take that one with you, boy’s too pale."

"Mr. Summers . . ."

Her grandfather waved them off. "Nope. Not another word. Off with you two. I’ll have your grandmother pack your lunch. Tomorrow’s the Fourth, we’ll all be headed into town for the day and there’s nothing to be done this afternoon that won’t wait."

"Okay. See you in a minute, Spike. Got to go change into my swimsuit."

She ran into the house without a backward glance. If she had, she might have seen that the look on Spike’s face was a mix of trepidation and desire.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Spike closed the door to his room and sat heavily on the bed. He was supposed to head off for an afternoon swimming with Buffy. Which meant Buffy cavorting around in a skimpy little swimsuit. Buffy frolicking in the water, beckoning him in. Buffy lying all golden and bronzed in the sun, waiting for him to join him.

He laid back and covered his head with his pillow, muffling his groan. This would such a bad idea.

She’d gotten under his skin that first day. He’d been with the Summers for about two weeks before she arrived, and his hosts had never stopped talking about Buffy. Buffy this and Buffy that. They clearly adored their granddaughter. Except from the way they spoke of her, he’d expected a little girl, someone twelvish, perhaps, with bows in her hair.

Instead there’d been this nymph with blond hair and hazel eyes who didn’t look twelve in the slightest standing in the doorway staring at him. She was wearing a pink t-shirt that hugged perky breasts, and white shorts that highlighted the tan of her legs that ended in little pink shoes with butterflies on the toes. Utterly feminine. Utterly beautiful. Utterly innocent.

And utterly off-limits.

Oh, he’d known that from the start. Buffy was no-man’s land as far as he was concerned.

Except that she was hard to ignore.

He tried. First he’d snubbed her. Pretended she wasn’t around, smiling that cute little smile, tossing her hair in that long ponytail she wore half the time. For some reason it always drove him especially crazy when she wore it that way, made him want to run his fingers through it, play with those long strands and slowly release all those curls.

Ignoring her wasn’t easy. He wasn’t stupid, he knew he was a good-looking bloke who had his fair share of attention from the fairer sex. Buffy was an innocent. He could tell, just from her reactions to him, that she wasn’t like some of the girls he’d run into on the campus, the teens who crashed the frat parties, probably more experienced than he was. She still had a sweetness to her that was both refreshing and alluring. But for all her naiveté, she was clearly interested in him. He’d caught her watching him out of the corner of his eye, blushing when he’d looked her way. The fact that she’d had a crush hadn’t made it any simpler.

But he’d have been fine if it hadn’t been for that night by the river. Before he’d been able to put it down to a big case of lust for forbidden fruit and kept his distance. Buffy was ripe, poised on the cusp of womanhood and oh so ready to be plucked. He was just a man, he could hardly expect to be immune to that. But it didn’t mean he had to act on it. She wasn’t the first girl he’d thought was hot and she wouldn’t be the last. And the price for getting involved with her just wasn’t worth it.

But that night, when she’d poured out her heart to him and he’d done the same, something had clicked. He’d really seen her for the first time. Not the body or the face, but her. And he’d found something he didn’t know was missing. A friend.

So for awhile he’d told himself that was all it was. He wanted her companionship, the back and forth and snarkiness, her bad quips and goofy laughter. Someone he could chat with at the end of the day, here in this isolated place.

Not that he didn’t want to be here. Being here had been good, he’d needed the break and there was a strange peace to the place that he couldn’t explain, almost as though it were some magical pocket where time stood still. He thought that was half the reason his Grand had insisted on him spending the summer here, and not back in London where he’d had partied half the night away with the social set he was supposed to mingle with, being seen and seeing all the right people. It was part of the business, he knew that, contacts and whatnot, but sometimes it just got old. He was happier here, at this moment, with her.

But this afternoon was still a bad idea.

He sighed and stood up, rifling through the dresser and pulling out a pair of black trunks. He didn’t want to cross the line with her today. No matter how everything tumbled out, being more than friends with Buffy would be a disaster. So he’d keep it simple, the light, teasing rapport that had been working so well. Think of her as his kid sister.

His kid sister in next to nothing, dripping wet, rubbing up against him as they played in the water.

He looked down and realized he was already more than half-erect at the thought. Yeah, apparently his brain refused to see her as a relative. Which was probably good, otherwise he was really a perv.

He pulled on his trunks and threw a towel over his shoulder. This was going to be a long afternoon.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Buffy debated for all of a split second before grabbing the pink two piece. She stripped off her clothes, leaving them in a heap on the floor as she wiggled into the bottoms, settling them around her hips. She tied the top in place before throwing a tank top over and sliding on a loose pair of shorts. Sunglasses slid on top of her head, her multi-colored beach towel under her arm, sunscreen in her hand and she was ready to go.

She paused for just a second in front of the mirror. Her cheeks were bright with excitement and her eyes sparkled. An afternoon to play with Spike. She felt a tremor of nervousness at the prospect coupled with a shimmy of excitement. At this point, she had no idea what could happen. Or would happen.

But an afternoon with sun and fun and Spike? She couldn’t see the bad.

She pounded down the steps to meet him.

CONTINUED...


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