"So you needed… what was that again?" Saibara seems lost in focus. He hands Claire a purple mug, his hands shaking. Old age hasn't been doing him any good as of lately, what with the tremors and forgetfulness and increasing... increasing irateness. Claire quickly takes the cup from his hands, thanking him.

Gray sits across from her, staring at her with half-lidded eyes as he drinks his black coffee. In that moment, he inwardly proclaims his love for coffee. What would he do without his coffee? Coffee is always there for him, and will forever be there for him. Coffee doesn't just up and leave; it always just performs its function and does what it's supposed to do. Coffee, sex, and rock n' roll. That's how the saying goes, right?

Claire takes a sip from her mug before answering. "A watering can, that um... thing the grim reaper carries, I forget what it's called, a hoe, and... a hammer."

"That thing the grim reaper carries." Has this chick ever even stepped foot on a freakin' farm? Gray makes a face at her after he's done drinking. "What the hell do you need a hammer for?" he asks rudely, as his grandfather shoots him a look. Why he's being such an asshole, he can't say for certain. The girl is hot; hot like that blonde chick in the second Austin Powers movie from a couple of years ago. Any chance of having her be interested in him is gonna be squashed by his trash attitude. Not that he wants her interested, of course, and not that he likes this chick. He doesn't like anybody; especially not new people. I can literally count on one hand the number of individuals that I actually tolerate.

"I'm gonna apologize on his behalf," Saibara murmurs, swatting his grandson with his cane. Gray scoffs at Claire's amused expression. "He's very antisocial."

"I'm not," says Gray, even though this is a blatant lie. He walks over to the coffee machine to make another cup; unsure if he wants one or fucking needs/requires one after this much forced conversation in the morning. "Just wanna know why Blondie over here needs a friggin' hammer." And why she needs it at 8 A.M. He scratches his stubble, yawning at her, but she just makes another face at him in response.

"I need one for my farm." Claire's tone is very matter-of-fact, until she adds a "duh" at the end of her sentence, and Gray realizes the kind of maturity level that he's dealing with here. She takes another sip from her mug slowly, making him wonder what the hell's in her drink.

"It's definitely gonna be a waste of my time making one for you, that's all."

Claire blinks, turning to his grandfather. "Is he always this charming?" she asks sarcastically. Saibara sighs, rubbing at his wrinkled temples, shooting his grandson another dirty look.

"Only when I'm around little blonde girls who inconvenience me on my day off," Gray mumbles. Claire squints up at him from her seat, chewing the inside of her cheek. When she crosses her arms over her chest, Gray can't help but notice her large bust. Yeah, definitely looks like the chick from Austin Powers. Wasn't she also in Boogie Nights? She was, wasn't she? She was... a pornstar there. With a really hot nude scene-

Wait, why the hell is this crossing his mind right now? He shifts his eyes away quickly.

"Day off?" his grandfather snaps. He shoots up from his seat, and knocks Gray on the head, wincing at his arthritic hand. Why he feels the need to get physical when he's frustrated, no one knows. He's told his grandfather more than once that he's only hurting himself by doing that kind of dumb shit. Gray boxes like his cousin, Flora, in Forget-Me-Not-Valley, so it isn't like any of Saibara's blows do the slightest bit of damage. "You're an apprentice blacksmith, you shouldn't even get days off."

His grandfather reaches for that crumpled up sign from prior, smoothing it out on the countertop with his still-trembling hands. "And that's why I've changed the store hours." This last part sounds triumphant, as though Saibara is proud of the troublesomeness he's caused by doing this. "You come anytime you want, Claire."

"You're so sweet," she tells the old man, grinning at him. "Thank you for the tea." Gray grabs her mug from the table all pissed-off, shoving it in the dishwasher with force. He's beyond annoyed.

"It was nice meeting you," Claire says, rising from her chair to grab her orange knapsack from the floor.

Gray leans against the fridge, crossing his arms with a smirk. "Welcome to the boonies." He anticipates another eye roll from her, but she just laughs.

"Take care," Claire calls. Saibara guides her to the front door, the two exchanging some words before she leaves.

Saibara holds up the sloppy note of her order that he's scribbled down. "Get to work."

"What'd you tell her?" asks Gray. His grandfather shrugs.

"I just apologized on your behalf again. You really are a mean bastard."

That's me alright, Gray thinks, reaching for a piece of scrap metal on his work station.


He finishes her hammer by Saturday, throwing it in a woven bag that Popuri's mother made for the shop. Gray fetches six-year-old Stu to bring it to Claire.

"It's… so heavy!" the little boy cries, lifting the bag. Gray crouches down to his level.

"Guess I'll go and tell your little girlfriend, May, that you don't have the strongest muscles in town," says Gray, tousling his hair.

Stu pouts up at him. "You're always a big meanie, Gray."

Gray stands up, reaching into his cupboard to retrieve the chocolate bar that Stu requested. Poor kid's big sister is a health-nut nurse who doesn't allow the consumption of any sugar whatsoever. The little boy smiles gleefully.

"Not so mean now, am I?" He pauses. "Just don't let Elli see."

"I'm sharing this with May!" Stu exclaims. Gray just smirks.

"That's real nice of you. I'd probably just eat it myself." With his sweet tooth, it's a wonder how he still manages to maintain such a lean physique. Especially since all he does lately is eat. Although Gray isn't a morning person by any stretch of the imagination, he works out before his shifts in hopes that this abundance of food will simply fuel his muscles.

Stu sticks his tongue out. "See, you are still sort of a meanie."

Gray rolls his eyes. "Just go bring that to the new farmer's house. You know where her ranch is, right?"

Stu nods. "I met her at church this morning. She's super pretty."

"Alrighty, thanks, Stu." Gray opens the door for him, the little boy scurrying out. He gets to work on the rest of Claire's equipment, concentrating on his next paycheck.

The next day, Elli knocks on the door to Mineral Blacksmith; Gray half-expected this to happen. He mutters curse words to himself.

"You got my baby brother to deliver a hammer?" Elli asks, when Gray opens the door.

"Hi, Elli."

She just scowls at him. "And, you paid him in chocolate?!" Her voice raises up an octave. She's only a couple of years older than Gray, so he figures that she really has no business yelling at him. Plus, it's too early... for anything, much less this much volume in his goddamn ear.

"Guess so," says Gray.

Elli folds her arms, knitting her thin brow together. She wears her nurse's outfit with a crisp white apron tied over her, fiddling with the bow-shaped broach that Gray made her for her birthday last year. Elli's ailing grandmother, Ellen, placed an order over the phone to Saibara, specifically requesting that Gray be the one to craft it. It's a little bit lopsided, he realizes that now, but he's kinda proud of his earlier work.

"I know you're still hurting, Gray." Elli's voice is soft, and comes out of nowhere. He's taken aback by it. "I know that you think more could have been done for her, but-"

"Elli," Gray snaps. "You're not a doctor, or a therapist, so why the hell are you even talking?" He doesn't mean to get so nasty, especially since the whole town knows the reason behind why Elli couldn't pursue her schooling further to become a doctor. She's got the brains and the drive for it, but had to become Stu's legal guardian after Ellen's last stroke. Gray really shouldn't be adding further salt to her wounds, but he is.

Elli just sighs. His comment seems unsurprising to her, and although she's pretending to look unbothered, there's no way it didn't sting. "I shouldn't have said anything."

"You're right. You don't know shit, so don't pretend like you do."

"Look, Stu isn't your delivery boy. Especially not for tools."

"It was in a bag," Gray contends. Elli glares.

"I don't care! You should be the one to give it to the new girl. Quit holding yourself back from living!"

Gray grips the rosewood door, tracing over its braided pattern. Hadn't his father carved that?

"Thanks for the visit, Elli," he says, slamming it in her face.

Gray spends a good five minutes merely staring at the door, contemplating. "She's got a point," Saibara says, his voice cutting through the silence. His grandfather gets up from his chair, polishing the sickle that he's completed for Claire. Grumbling, Gray grabs the hoe that he crafted to give it a final shine.

"Who asked you?" he retorts. Saibara just weakly rises to hand him all of the completed tools. Sometimes, when Gray watches his ailing grandfather get older, a part of him wants to quit being so miserable. To go back to being carefree and happy like he once was.

Was he ever really happy, though? And how's he supposed to just up and do that, with all the bullshit that's been thrown at him in life?

"Bring this to her, now," Saibara tells him. "Please."

Gray just rubs his clean-shaven face, tossing all of the tools in a bigger bag before making his way to Claire's farm.


"So, just to reiterate, you lied." Claire feels her eye twitching, and taps her foot impatiently. She glares at the stupid, top-hatted man in front of her.

"Yep," Thomas says, callously. Her puppy, Maggie, a beagle poodle mutt mix that she rescued before moving here growls at his feet. Even with Claire's small stature, she's still taller than this moronic mayor of Mineral Town.

"This farm was once stupendous," Thomas continues. He gestures toward the mess that is her ranch. She had arrived Wednesday evening, and while it was not everything she had hoped for, she just wanted to make the best of it all. But, when the mayor visited this afternoon to explain how the shipment-process worked, he had accidentally let it slip out that he intentionally fibbed in the advertisement. "But the owner died, and I mean, how else was I going to sell it without stretching the truth a bit?"

Claire quietly takes out the hammer that little Stu had given her from her rucksack, ready to give Thomas a piece of her mind. She'd really like to hit him with it, but she isn't in some kind of video game or anything like that. Maybe she'll just wack him with the back of the wooden handle to show that she means business.

Yeah, Claire's well aware that she's got to work on her temper. Not today, but eventually.

"Don't!" Thomas cries, cowering and flinching at the sight of her hammer. She just continues to frown at him.

"Can't say you wouldn't deserve it, bud," a voice says. Claire turns to see whom it belongs to. Surely it can't be that jerk blacksmith.

And yet, there he is, at the entrance of her crappy farm, carrying her order of tools over.

"Oh, you're another one, Gray!" Thomas cries. Gray says nothing, tossing the bag of tools at Claire's feet. She glances down at it, then up at him.

Thomas strokes his mustache, as though this action provides him with substantial comfort. "So... you're mad that I tricked you?"

"Duh!" Claire says, shocked at his stupidity.

"Hit him, Blondie," Gray says, smirking. After a moment, Claire just smiles slyly at him. "Please, that'd be the kind of entertainment that people'd pay to see."

"Literally, everyone in this town dislikes you and your shitty attitude, Gray," Thomas snaps. Gray smirks, drawing a fake tear down his cheek. Claire just stifles a laugh.

"Get lost!" she exclaims at the mayor, dumbfounded. Exasperated, Thomas dusts off his red suit, placing his hands on his rounded hips.

"All I'm saying," he says, slowly. "Is that I basically did you a favour! A city girl moving into a farm... I mean, it'll be a good social experiment to see how this all plays out!"

Gray arches his brow, the one without the barbell piercing in it, taking a step closer to her. He reaches into the bag of tools he brought, grabbing the hoe from it. "Need this?" he asks. She grins.

"Maybe," Claire says, taking it from his hands. She holds its weight, sizing it up. "This one would hurt, wouldn't it?"

"Think so," answers Gray. Thomas makes a strangled noise.

"Alright you psychotic teenagers, I am leaving!" He runs off, his stumpy body embarrassingly slow.

"Kinda scares me that you ordered an axe from my grandfather this morning," muses Gray, gesturing towards Thomas' grand exit.

"Sorry you had to see that; I have a really short temper," she apologizes. The two of them glance around her farm, even though it's barely a functioning farm. There are weeds sprawled out everywhere, boulders blocking most of the planting soil, and wild flowers sprouting all along the fields. Claire inwardly face-palms to herself; maybe she should apologize for Gray seeing this metaphoric state of her life right now. "Promise I wasn't gonna hit him, though." She twirls a lock of her golden hair, feeling a cool spring breeze blow against them. Good thing she's got on a pair of overalls to keep her warm right about now. She drops the hoe, and hugs her flannel covered arms across from her, letting out a sigh.

"That chode had what was coming to him," says Gray in response.

Claire giggles, sneaking a quick peek at him. He was so miserable three days ago; she swore that the scowl on his face was seriously permanent. But, when he answered the door and she saw him for the first time, she honestly couldn't help but take in his good-looking...ness. Is that even a word? But for reals, though; it's like he's chiseled out of stone or something. She mentally compares him to teen heartthrob Jonathan Taylor Thomas, circa 1999. Claire had even felt a small surge of disappointment when his grandfather told him to put his shirt on. Not like she was going to do anything, but there's never been a guy with visible six-pack abs that close to her before.

Now, he's dressed in a tan-coloured jumpsuit, tufts of his dark copper hair visible from beneath his UMA hat. He looks down at her, his eyes a light, baby blue.

But still piercing and ice cold.

Maggie interrupts her thoughts, sniffing Gray's shoes. He merely crouches down, and extends his hand at the dog. Hesitantly, she lets her guard down, and rolls over on her back, allowing him to rub her belly.

"Good girl," Grays says. Claire's heart melts a bit; it's the first time that he's looked genuinely... well, she wouldn't say that he's happy, but at least he isn't so pissed off right now. "She's cute," he tells her, scratching Maggie's white and brown patched ears. She kicks her hind leg playfully, wagging her tail at Gray.

"See," Claire says, crouching down with him. "Not everyone hates you." Gray just quietly continues petting Maggie, sharing a small smile with Claire.