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STAKE YOUR CLAIM


Chapter 3: Part II




William ‘Spike’ Giles was a fairly logical man, at least for the most part that is. He was hardened by the the life his Father had brought him to when he was fourteen years of age, but he’d taken to this wild place immediately and left his memories of England, his birthplace behind, permenantly.

However, right now, staring into the most brilliant green eyes he’d ever seen, why did he feel like such an unhardened romantic/poetic ponce? ‘They never told me she looked like this,’ he reasoned about his Father and Stepmother, ‘I didn’t know she was an Angel on earth.’

There, he’d done it again, used the word ‘Angel’ for this intoxicating little creature in front of him. Oh, sure, his Dad, Rupert and Stepmum, Jennifer had told all of their family that little Miss Elizabeth Summers-Abrams was small of frame, quick of mind and was a young widow, but they hadn’t said a word about how beautiful she was.

‘Her eyes are like emeralds, her hair is like spun gold; such a little thing; but she shines like the sun. Christ!’ he muttered, ‘I sound like a bloody poetic ponce!’ ‘Hmmmm, wonder what what she looks like under that prim, proper little grey number?’ He couldn’t help himself, he looked her up and down with what he hoped was a dazzling smile.

It had taken precisely five to ten minutes, after the train had arrived for his Father, Jenny, young Connor and Miss Elizabeth Summers to descend from their car. In that time, Spike had grabbed his family’s luggage, talked briefly to young Daniel Osbourne, the Station Master and made his way to meet the school Marm, Miss Summers that is.

All’s the time that had passed had been five, maybe ten minutes, but that’s all that was necessary for him, Spike Giles, the biggest baddest bad ass in Cheyenne to catch a glimpse of ‘her’ Elizabeth Summers-Abrams. In that short time, he’d been struck by lightning, hit by thunder and well, shot through his heart with Cupid’s arrow. Something that had never, ever happened to him in his entire twenty-two years on earth. And, she hadn’t even said a word to him.

‘Great,’ he muttered to himself, ‘all the towns in the United States and this little porcelain doll has to wander into mine! A woman like this, this school teacher from down South had swept into into town, turned his world upside down without a word, in less time it took for him to drink a pint of beer.

‘Bloody hell,’ he hissed, eyeing the little widow up and down again, ‘a woman like this is more dangerous then a fucking Colt 45 or a Winchester.’


Buffy just stared into the indigo blue eyes that met hers, ‘gosh,’ she sighed inwardly, ‘I’ve never seen such blue eyes before.’ She was acutely aware that this fair-haired, blue eyes British man was eyeing her up and down like he might know just what she looked like underneath her prim and proper little grey traveling suit. A warm flush shot through her and she just knew she was blushing like virgin bride under his appreciative stare. This did not make Buffy Summers very comfortable, in fact, it made her somewhat nervous and shy.

“Uhm,” Buffy stammered, suddenly shy, even for her, “I’m Elizabeth Summers, Buffy actually. May I ask who you are sir?”

This handsome man smiled at her, okay, make that he ‘smirked’ at her, kind of, and set some luggage down in front of himself. “I’m William Giles,” he said, that deep voice of his, the accent, well, Buffy thought she might swoon from them. And, Buffy Summers never, ever swooned, period.

“Oh,” she responded softly, biting her lower lip, “I see. I thought, well, I guess, maybe I thought.”

William grinned at her, “thought what luv?” he asked silkily.

‘Luv!’ she gasped silently, ‘luv? No one calls me luv and lives to tell it.’ Buffy blushed again.

This little Elizabeth (didn’t his Stepmum say they called her Buffy?) blushed again, a wonderful sight for him. ‘Gonna’ make her blush every chance I get,’ he decided right then, ‘she’s just too damn ‘dear’ when she does. I love it!’ He smiled his most dazzling smile and tried to hear the question she repeated to him.

“Exactly, Mr. William Giles,” Buffy began, a little haughtily he thought, “what ‘did’ you expect? I mean, of me?”

The little school Marm was definitely on the defensive by this time and before he even thought it out, Spike blurted, “I guess I expected a spinster-like sour looking widow. You know the type; sobs over nothing, looks like she has the weight of the world on her shoulders, wears mourning black for the rest of her days. You know, that type!”

He chuckled when he finished his description of what he thought she should look like, hoping to get a rise out of this tasty little morsel. He got a rise out of her alright, but not the one he expected.

“Oh, well,” she started all brave and such, standing up to her all of 5’1” or so, “I guess you’re not what ‘I’ expected either, Mr. Giles!”

Spike grinned again, leaning in close as he thought would be appropriate, “and what was that, Ms. Abrams?”

She shot him what she probably thought was a match for one of his patent smirks, “first off,” she said, batting her golden lashes, “my name is Miss Elizabeth Summers, Buffy to my friends, but you can call me ‘Miss Summers.’ Secondly, I ‘thought’ by all descriptions that you, Mr. William Giles would be, well, uhm, a little ‘bigger’ in stature that is.”

He burst out laughing, apparently infuriating her even more. “Well, I am bigger,” he steadied his voice, his merry eyes meeting her eyes again, “where it counts that is.”

Buffy gasped, audibly, at this uncalled for, odious, overbearing and totally scandulous retort by this equally odious man before her.

‘I can’t believe he said that to me,’ she thought, shocked beyond words and understanding exactly what he’d meant by them. ‘How dare he!’ she was thrown completely for a loss and she just knew she was blushing profusely.

She finally opened her mouth to respond, put him in his nasty little place when Jennifer and Rupert Giles seemed to appear out of nowhere, “we’re ready to go the Rayne’s Miss Summers,” the older man stated, eyeing his oldest son warily.

“Perhaps you should take Connor and Angel, along with our luggage back home, William,” his Father suggested.

William Giles nodded at his Father and Stepmother, then at Buffy, “pleasure to meet you ‘Miss Buffy’ Summers,” he chuckled and turned to gather up his younger brothers.

All Spike got for his trouble was a ‘hmmphh!’ from the little angel and the view of her turned back as she walked away from him. Spike stood staring after her, grinning like a fool when his younger brothers, Angel and Connor finally came up to join him.

“Heard what you said big brother,” Angel chuckled wickedly, “you are real smooth, aren’t you? I think ‘I’ have a better chance with her, now, then you do, huh?”

Angel began to laugh riotously while young Connor just blushed and glanced around nervously, making sure other people couldn’t hear their conversation.

Spike stopped grinning like an idiot and shot Angel a murderous look, “forget it, little brother,” he growled through gritted teeth. “If you even look at our Miss Summers sideways I’ll rip your throat out and shove it up your….”

Connor piped up, “I’m tired and hungry, Spike,” he looked at his oldest brother with a worshipful expression, “can we just go home now?” The oldest Gile’s boy smiled benevolently at Connor, he adored his baby brother and felt the need to protect him at all costs.

“Yeah, we can get home, Conn,” he said evenly, then glared at Angel again. “Just as long as Angel boy here gets the point. Miss Summers is off limits to you, Ang, got it? You and every other moron in this town. I just staked a claim on our new school teacher and I expect every male in the Territory to respect it. Miss Summers is exclusively mine and don’t be surprised if she’s Mrs. Giles before too long! Mrs. William Giles, that is!”

Spike was dead serious about this and he could tell that both Angel and Connor had realized it. Angel just rolled his stupid eyes, but Connor smiled back at his adored oldest brother.

“I gotta’ tell you guys,” the youngest Gile’s male began excitedly, as he followed his hero, Spike, to the wagon, “you gotta’ hear what Miss Summers did on the train; how she saved Mother’s wedding ring and everything!”





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