Cheekbones {a btvs Spike story Buffy}

Chapter 14 - Saving Spike

With the careless lift of a finger, Glory drags Amber over to her, until there is no gap between them at all. "I don't know what your deal is. All I want is my key." Her voice is sickly sweet and mocking. Glory strokes Amber's hair, tucking it behind her ear.

"Don't touch her." Spike manages, coughing up blood in the process. Amber winces as it dribbles down his chin. 

Glory turns her attention to Spike, about to make a witty comeback. Before being given the chance, Amber punches Glory in the face with all the strength she can muster. Glory's hands fly up to her nose while Amber darts over to Spike. "That was NOT fair!" Glory complains.

Amber cuts the ropes and cuffs with the axe and chants a spell quietly. Glory stomps over, anger and fire in her eyes. Amber continues chanting until Glory falls to the floor, as if she had just smacked into a glass window. She flips her hair out of her face and scowls. Still on the floor she shouts, "You bitch!"

The containment spell Amber's set between her and Glory should hold her for a minute or so. With Glory's immense power, Amber doesn't doubt she could probably break through it sooner.

She helps Spike up and they stumble to the door. Glory says something but the ringing in Amber's ears is too loud. They make it out alive - surprisingly - and travel back to the crypt as fast as they can.

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Amber slowly takes Spike's long black trench coat off his shoulders and hangs it carefully on a semi-broken hat stand. The tension and questions in the air are thick and dripping with urgency. With Amber's help, Spike slowly sits in the armchair, while Amber fetches him a pint of blood. He looks too pale.

"Three questions: who was that, what did she want and where does it hurt?"

"Glory. I think she's some hell god but Buffy and the lot are clueless. She wants 'the key'. And, my face."

Amber takes a moment to let her brain process the quick-fire information. A key?

She runs a tea towel under cold water and presses it to the cut on Spike's lip. He smirks "Why don't you kiss it better?" Amber ignores his suggestive comment and gets an icepack from the mini freezer. She presses it firmly on his now purplish eye and holds it there. "I can do it." He says sulkily. She pauses for a second, debating what to do about his stab wound. The knife hasn't cut too deep so she cleans it quickly and puts a plaster on it. Next, she rolls up the vampire's sleeves, exposing all the scraps decorating his strong arms. She wraps them neatly up with bandages and sits back to admire her work. "When did you get so good at this?"

Amber blushes, shaking her head. "I just want you to be ok."

"I'm ok, love." He winces as Amber touches his cheek - he is most definitely not ok.

"You don't need to pretend. If you're hurt, then you're hurt. There is nothing wrong with that."

"Save it." Spike replies. Amber is taken aback by his sudden rudeness. He senses his mistake and apologies. "Sorry." His piercing blue eyes are frosty and remind Amber of icicles. It's ironic that they look like stakes. He leans closer, and she does to. They share a gentle kiss before Amber insists Spike gets some sleep.