Cheekbones {a btvs Spike story Buffy}

Chapter 4 - Black Nails

Amber sits, bored, on Spike's bed. He's more of a gentlemen than anyone would have ever thought: he lets Amber sleep there and he sleeps in the armchair. She shifts restlessly, still buzzing from her first human feed so sleep is out of the question. She steals quick looks at Spike but he doesn't notice, - or ignores her - still quietly brooding.

"What you thinkin' about?" Amber asks. 

"None of your bloody business," he replies, expression unreadable.

"Can I paint your nails?"

"What? No."

"Please!" she begs, "It'll be neat, I swear."

"Fine," he agrees reluctantly. He struts over to a battered chest of drawers, rummages for a second, then produces a black bottle.

"Nice, where'd you get this?"

"Stole it," he replies, almost like a reflex, "I mean - I definitely didn't steal it. I used money and stuff."

She gives him an odd glance, as if to say 'ok then?'. He just sits next to her on the bed and says sternly: "If you spill any of this, I'll kill you."

"You can try." She smirks and takes the cap off the bottle. She takes his hand and he flinches slightly at the contact. She looks up at him. He looks surprised.

"You ok?"

He grunts and she starts painting. Amber relaxes with each stroke, coating Spike's nails in a colour that reminds her of the graveyard at midnight. The polish is actually good quality, she always wondered what brand he used. Amber admires his signature black nails - it's cool that Spike, as a guy, feels comfortable enough to pull it off. She concentrates, out of habit, sticking her tongue out slightly. She finishes his left hand and gently takes his right. She smiles up at him and strangely, he smiles back. She instructs him to stay still and lets out a whoop of triumph when she's done.

"See, that wasn't so bad, was it?"

"I guess not. Hey, you got some on my skin here." Spike complains, shoving his thumb in her face.

"That's your own fault, Spike. If you didn't fidget so much it would have been perfect."

Amber decides to go to bed, as the sun peaks over Sunnydale. She misses the sun but adores the moonlight, so doesn't feel it's too bad a trade. As she starts to drift off, she could almost swear she felt Spike's hand touching hers again.