Cheekbones {a btvs Spike story Buffy}

Chapter 2 - There's No Place Like Crypt

"So let me get this straight. I'm a vampire with a soul, that's best friends with a slayer and is being forced to live with another vampire that wants my best friend - the slayer - dead. And the stay is going to last MAYBE FOREVER."

"Don't put it like that! You know it's sensible. And not forever. Just until I can get the ring off Angel."

Amber and Buffy are in Buffy's house. It feels cosy and like home, the thought of leaving makes her stomach protest in anxious grumbles. Amber isn't the type to get sentimental but she loves it here. She moved in with Buffy just a year and a half after they met, due to a sticky situation with her parents that Amber doesn't like to talk about. Now, they sit on her bed, packing a bag.

"So, you get me this magic vampire ring that'll make me able to go into sunlight and -"

"The Ring of Amara - yes."

"Whatever. Then I can live a normal life and be me again."

"You are you." Buffy reassures. She looks stern and her gaze penetrates through Amber. It's unsettling.

"Whatever." Amber repeats, casting her eyes down. They uncontrollably prick with tears. Out of fear or out of shock - she'd never know.

"It'll be good for you. You can ask Spike any questions you have about being a vampire and you can stay out of sunlight - and trouble."

"Haha." Amber sarcastically laughs. She pauses after tossing her toothbrush into the case. "I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you too. Come on, lets go before sunrise."

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Spike's crypt is dark and smells like blood. A smell Amber had better get used to. She perches on the edge of a dusty table - unsure of what to say or do, but she manages an awkward smile.

"What?" Spike's eyes narrow as he takes a puff of his cigarette.

"How can you smoke if you can't breathe?" Amber questions.

Spike coughs loudly, choking on the smoke. "First question after turning into a vampire is that? I was expecting something a little more practical if I'm honest."

"You didn't answer my question," Amber presses, raising an eyebrow and cocking her head to one side.

He just chuckles lightly and it fills Amber with a certain type of fiery annoyance that's hard to explain. Already, she feels dread that this living situation is going to be the death of her (figuratively, of course). 

"Fine." She mutters, more to herself than to Spike. "Spike."

"Uh huh?"

"Thanks for what you did today." she picks at a chip in the wooden table beneath her, unable to meet Spike's gaze,  "I mean... I can't really remember what happened but by the sounds of it, you kinda... Saved me, for the lack of a better word."

Spike gets up from the coffin he was sitting on and slowly paces over to Amber. He gets close enough so that if he could breathe, it would have been very awkward.

"I think 'saved' is the perfect word," he smirks. "And you're welcome, pet."