Chapter 11 - The Aftermath

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They don't say anything on the way home. Amber tries to convince herself that it was just the heat of the moment. That shock and excitement were the excuse. Why else would she do something so stupid? She won't look at Spike but she knows he is looking at her, she can feel his intrusive stare. She walks faster.
Amber ignores the flame still dwindling in her stomach. The smoke rises, wrapping tightly around her heart.
She locks herself in the bathroom and showers, in hope that the water will wash away her wrong, wrong feelings. Is there any point denying the attraction she feels towards Spike? Yes, there is. For Buffy, for her sanity, for... Who is she kidding?
She smacks her hands harshly to her face, groaning as she forgot about the wounds there. She scrubs her skin raw, thinking and thinking about what to do.

Until now, she had never had to face her affections. She may have had a little crush on Spike when he first got to town, mesmerised by his sculpted face and reckless attitude. She had accepted long ago that it was silly and he was toxic. Now, more like intoxicating. She craved to feel his lips brushing against hers again. Despite everything, it just felt right. 

She swears repeatedly as she dries herself and gathers her wet hair into a messy ponytail. When she remerges into the room, Spike is nowhere around. Deciding to just go to bed, she slips off her dressing gown and throws on her cosiest pyjama set. Sliding fluffy socks onto her feet, she nestles under the covers to Spike's bed. She barely closes her eyes, when sleep takes her from this world.

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She gets ready as quick as she can. Amber wants to be out of this place before Spike returns from wherever the hell he's got to. She thought sleeping on it would have made everything clearer, but she's just as perplexed as she was in the cemetery. She pulls a cute, lilac jumper over her head, getting her arms mixed up in the sleeves in her haste. She pairs it with dark leggings. She's managed to sleep all through the day, and plans to hang out at The Bronze. Picking up her flip-phone, she types speedily, asking if Xander and Willow are free to meet her there. She slides the device into her back pocket.

"Going somewhere?" It's Spike - of course - leaning against the doorframe. Amber sees him differently now, as if before he was hiding something and now he isn't. 

"Yes." she says plainly.

"Goodbye kiss, pet?"

Amber's on him in an instant, pinning him against the wall. Her stake is clutched in one hand and the other forces his arm to stay in place. She drags the stake up to his heart and pierces the skin. Spike doesn't say anything. He stands still, waiting.

"I don't know what you're playing at, but that kiss meant nothing to me," she lies. "It was stupid and I was caught in the moment. And don't you ever call me pet again." She can't tell if she's angry or confused. Probably both.  

"Oh, if looks could stake, pet." Spike mocks and Amber digs the stake ever so slightly deeper. When his smile doesn't fade, she hits his head back into the solid crypt wall.

Spike loses his patience and grabs her by the shoulders, slamming her into the opposite wall. Amber groans as her back hits the stone. She tries not to show on her face how much that bloody hurt. 

He whispers into her neck, "How about I call you 'love', instead?"

There's a tense moment of anticipation before his lips crush into hers. Amber's eyes widen before closing, sinking into the buzzing feeling. He is strong and safe, she can't help herself from melting into his touch. His tongue desperately caresses hers, as Amber pulls him closer by the shirt. Not close enough.

Spike's hands are on her hips, guiding her closer. She moans softly into his lips when they split away for half a second. Amber takes her hands and runs them down Spike's back, making him kiss her harder. The passion rises and rises, swirling around them like a hurricane. 

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